Cecilie and Marie, the tall, blonde girl, also rode the same school bus with Angelo, though they got off several stops before he did.
During the ride, Angelo found out that Marie wanted to be a journalist and that Cecilie wanted to write and perhaps become Hollywood screenwriter. Both were on the school literary magazine, and Angelo volunteered that he had written some short stories on Wattpad, himself.
"Maybe you can get published in the Winged Verse," Marie said.
"Winged Verse?" "Yes, that's the name of the school's literary magazine," Marie said. "I'll show you a copy tomorrow."
Angelo felt like skipping to Mary Elizabeth's house as he got off the bus. After a scary beginning, Angelo felt that the school day had ended marvelously. He loved his new friends, and best of all, they accepted him, just as he was. He couldn't wait to tell Mary Elizabeth.
He rounded the corner onto the street heading to his house and stopped suddenly, ducking behind bushes in front of a home two doors away.
In front of his foster mother's home were two cars. Four people were exiting those cars, including the hateful Miss Pentecost of Social Services, Anna Simms, the social worker, and two uniformed officers. Angelo knew immediately they must be coming to take him away.
He watched as Mary Elizabeth opened the door for the four and although he couldn't make out what was said he could tell she was arguing with them.
Miss Pentecost showed his foster mother a pack of papers with a blue cover. Mary Elizabeth looked at them with obvious disgust, muttered something and opened the door to let them enter.
Angelo's stomach twisted in knots and he felt like he was going to cry, but he knew he couldn't let that slow him down. He had to figure out what he was going to do and he had to think fast.
He knew he couldn't go home; they'd take him away. But, if he didn't come home, where would he go?
He decided he would have to go somewhere they'd never look for him, because if they ever found him, they'd definitely put him in another foster home or maybe a group home, maybe even juvenile detention.
He buried himself deeper into the bushes, well hidden by the heavy late summer foliage. He told himself: "I must not cry. I must be strong." But what was he to do?
His only friend was Tanya, why couldn't he go there and maybe she would be able to help him come up with an idea? It was only a mile away, a walk of no more than 20 minutes, and Tanya should be home from school. He knew Tanya's mother worked, and wouldn't be home and he could stay an hour or so with Tanya until he figured out what to do.
It was the obvious choice, and Angelo emerged from the thicket of bush and headed toward Tanya's house, running most of the way.
He was fighting back tears, but they flowed anyway, as he cried about his worries for his own future and over the pain he was causing his foster mother, Mary Elizabeth, a woman who had respected him for whom he was.
"Angela!"
Tanya was surprised to see Angelo standing there, looking as he did when she opened the door.
"What happened to you? You look awful, and you've been crying."
"I don't know what to do, Tanya," Angelo said.
"Come in and tell me about it. Together we'll figure it out." Tanya took Angelo's hand and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.
They took a seat on the couch and Angelo proceeded to tell Tanya about seeing the child welfare people at his foster mother's home and how it looked.
"Let me hug you," Tanya said leaning in. She had already changed from her Catholic Girls' Academy uniform into shorts and a tank top, and Angelo felt a feeling of security as he nestled into Tanya's warm, comforting hold.
Tanya was taller and huskier than he was, and they cuddled for several minutes, before talking about the options Angelo faced. "They should just let you be a girl," Tanya said. "And you know Heather and Michael want to help you and your foster mom fight this. Eventually, everything will be okay."
"I know, but that'll take time, a long time," he said. "And I know I can't stay here until then."
Tanya got two cans of soda from the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table with Angelo before she answered: "You know, I'm going to call Michael. He'll know what to do, for now," she said finally.
"Thank you, Tanya. Would you? I just can't go back to child welfare. I can't do it. They'll put me in a home or group home with all boys, and I'll be picked on. Or worse, beat up and abused."
Angelo started to cry again. He cursed his physical weakness, his inability to relate to boys or to even enjoy doing boy activities.
Tanya tried to call Michael but got no answer, so she left him a message to call her. She then tried her sister. No answer there either.
After about half an hour of talking while waiting on a callback, Angelo said finally: "I can't keep waiting on a call from Michael. I have to do something. Can you loan me some of your clothes? Let me dress up as a girl."
"I can," Tanya replied, hesitantly. "But what are you planning?"
"I've got $40 in my pocket," he said.
"Where did you get that?"
"I always keep it hidden in my wallet for an emergency. A foster kid had always gotta be prepared."
Yeah, I guess this would this qualify as an emergency."
"Yeah, and it should be more than enough to buy a bus ticket to Denver. Can we look online and see what time a bus leaves for there?"
"Yeah sure, come on, but why Denver?"
"I know a girl there who might take me in."
"Really? Who's that? And how do you know she will?"
While Tanya looked up the bus schedule, Angelo explained that this girl had lived next door to them when his mother was alive. She was seventeen then and used to babysit Angelo.
The girl, whose name was Debra Jean, had in many ways, been Angelo's best and only friend, before Tanya. Though she was six years older, she had encouraged his interest in girls' clothes after catching him trying to steal a pair of hose from her drawers once.
She had, with his consent, sometimes put him in pretty outfits, made up his face and fixed his longish hair. "There, you look just like a pretty little girl now," she would tell him whenever she finished, to his great delight.
"I just know she'll help me. She has a good job there, and is going to school in drama," Angelo said.
Tanya wasn't so sure this was the best idea, but she could think of no other options. "Why do you have to dress as a girl?" she asked.
"Oh, I think I'll be safer," he said.
"Safer? As a girl? How do you figure that?"
"I look like such a sissy boy. I always get picked on. I can be myself as a girl. And if they try looking for me, they'll be looking for a boy."
Tanya had to admit this was true. She got up and went to her room, where she found an old book bag. It was pink, with a cartoon drawing of a freckle-faced pigtailed girl on the outside. She put several changes of panties and bras, some girl socks, a camisole and blouse and several denim skirts in it.
"I've out-grown these, but I think they'll fit you fine."
After some deliberation, Angelo decided to wear a pair of dark denim skinny jeans, padded training bra, and a white shirt over a pink camisole. He placed a light blue girl's baseball cap on his head with his hair poking out of the back.
Tanya painted his lips a light natural, glossy pink, and highlighted his eyes with just a hint of black eyeliner and mascara. She then quickly painted his nails a natural pink. Her theory was that if he dressed rather plain he'd be less noticeable.
"You're still cute as ever," Tanya said when they were done.
In truth, Tanya was always jealous of the daintiness and cuteness of Angelo. She always considered herself too tall and fleshy to be beautiful, but the fact was her bright eyes and cheerful disposition had marked her as a girl who would never lack for friends. As she remembered, the boys at the mall seemed to be looking at Angelo first, before noticing her.
"If mommy wants to know about me, just tell her I ran off, but that I will be safe. Tell her to please not worry about me."
"Are you sure you should do this?"
"Yes, it's the only way I can survive," Angelo said, tears coming to his eyes. "I'll call you and mommy once I get settled and feel it's safe."
Tanya hugged him again, and they both stifled an urge to cry, before Tanya said, "If you wanna make the five o'clock bus, you better hurry."
Angelo slipped his feet in a silvery grey pair of Tom's and hurried out the door. Afraid he might not make it before it was too late, he ran most of the way to the bus station. He ended up getting there in plenty of time and was able to get a window seat on the bus.
The ticket was $32.00, leaving him just enough to spend on a little food until he could find his friend. He had Debra Jean's phone number in Denver and would call her from the bus station as soon as he arrived.
The bus began to pull out but didn't get six feet before the driver stopped the bus and reopened the door to let a late-arriving passenger on board. It was a stunning, tall well-dressed woman, perhaps in her 30s.
The woman's eyes scanned the bus, and even though there were four other empty double seats, she still chose to sit in the empty seat next to Angelo.
"Mind if I join you, young lady?" she asked as she put her bag in the overhead compartment, taking Angelo's silence to be approval. "I don't like sitting by my myself on long trips. It's boring. I like to be able to chat with someone interesting."
As the bus left the city and moved into the lush, beautiful Colorado countryside, the woman introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Gigi. And who are you, my dear?"
"Angela," he said softly, and he had to repeat it over the bus noise. "Well, aren't you a pretty young lady? How old are you?" "Fifteen," he said, adding a little over a year to his age. For some reason, he felt that saying thirteen, even though his birthday was in a few days, may have marked him as too young for traveling alone on a bus.
"Really?" she said. "You hardly look a day over thirteen."
Angelo tried to look offended, and answered most truthfully, "I guess I look young for my age."
The woman continued to ask questions of Angelo and showed great interest. Angelo was smart enough to realize that it would be unwise to tell a stranger too much, so he merely said he was going to Denver to visit a friend. The more Angelo looked at the woman, the warier he became.
At first, he had thought she was dressed as a classy woman, but soon he realized her outfit was actually rather garish and cheap-looking. She was loaded with costume jewelry, and her language, too, seemed rather crude.
Gigi never really gave up trying to push Angelo for information, but he felt he had been discreet enough. He hadn't given away the fact that he was running away. Fortunately, about forty-five minutes into the two and a half hour ride, Angelo was finally able to fall asleep and the woman was no longer able to hound him with questions.
He slept for about half an hour and when he woke up, Gigi was asleep. He was relieved, seeing this. Staring out the window he began to have doubts about what he was doing.
The longer he sat there the more frightened Angelo became. He had never been to a city as big as Denver, and he wasn't completely confident that Debra Jean would be willing to put him up.
Would she even answer her phone? He could always go to her apartment, at the address he had found for her and wait for her to come home, but did she even still live there?
All these thoughts were going over and over again his head when the bus finally reached the bus station on Market Street in a sketchy, rundown section of downtown Denver.
"Here's my card," Gigi proffered as the bus pulled to a stop. "If you need any help, call me. I can find work for girls like you if you need it. Good money, too. Real good money, and a place to stay,"
Angelo took the card, saying, "Thank you, but I don't think I'll need it."
Gigi smiled, though Angelo felt it was not a sincere smile.
"Darling. Don't be too sure. I've helped many girls like you."
Angelo knew suddenly that this woman must have figured out he was a runaway. Would she really help him out, particularly if she learned he was really a boy? Who was she? Does she work for some agency? Maybe she was a cop in disguise, or a social worker, he thought.
Whoever she was, his instincts told him that he should try to steer clear of this woman.