little crisis

Rosco wasn't expecting to see Carrie at the grocery store. He was sort of busy. Actually, he was. These cans of pork'n beans needed to haul ass to the summerfest display.

"Can I talk to you?" She asked. He thought then he'd never seen her this much in daylight. Usually, it was half dark. It was like seeing a different person now. She looked so innocent. Not the fierce persona as she was on the drums.

"I guess. What's wrong?" He could she was about to burst into tears.

"I need you, " she told him.

"Well, I can't exactly do anything at the moment, I'm working," he said. "Whats this about?"

"I need a place to stay. I have to move. I can't-"

"What happened?"

"I hate my roommates. They don't care about me, at all. They use everything. I have nothing." She frowned into tears. "Except a bed. And what if they take that next, huh?"

"I don't know Carrie." Rosco shook his head, no. What was she asking?

"Please," she grabbed his arm then. It felt slightly comforting him to be needed. "Will you do this for me? You're the only friend I have."

"I seriously doubt that."

"You've got the room. Its empty. You don't even have a bed. I do. You know a bed is important." She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.

"God, OK." He couldn't take it. "We'll figure something out."

"OK, great." Her smile was big. "Give me your key, I loaded up my stuff in the neighbor's truck. I have to unload it, like yesterday."

He dug in his pocket then and gave her the key.

"You won't be sorry," she told him. "You won't."