Logan and I were sitting on the filthy, unmade bed and I squirmed uncomfortably. The woman's apartment gave me an absurd feeling, something I couldn't describe. It was dark with the slightly tattered, but thick curtains were drawn and it seemed like the place had never been bathed in sunlight. The wooden coffee table in the corner was unclean with crumbs of biscuits, milk stains, empty bottles of beer and an ashtray. The floor and the sheets on the bed itself were sticky, and an unpleasant stench engulfed us. I was going to vomit any second from now.

The woman emerged out of the tiny bathroom and strode across the room confidently, her semi-nakedness not bothering her one bit. She was still clad in her nightie with her feminine bits showing, but now she had a flimsy shawl draped over her shoulders. She had sprinkled some water on her face, her mascara running down. She grabbed a scruffy towel and nuzzled her face against it, languidly wiping off her smudged makeup.

I glanced at Logan in doubt and flinched involuntarily when she said, "Don't worry, I won't snitch on you."

"Oh," that was all I could manage to say since I was clearly intimidated by her.

She tossed the towel carelessly beside Logan on the bed. Logan was in deep thought, his eyes downcast in distress. The woman turned around and without makeup, she didn't look so old anymore. She looked like she was in her early to mid-twenties, her grey eyes which was almost transparent had a gloomy mist surrounding it. She untied her hair from the bun and shook her head, yellow curls cascading down her back. She picked the pack of cigarettes, took one out and lit it with the lighter. She drew out long puffs from it, her body visibly relaxing and eyes closing in peace before she walked towards us and offered one to Logan and me.

Logan looked up and politely denied, while an embarrassing cough escaped my lips, tears stinging my eyes. Logan rubbed my back in concern as I tried to shrug his hands off me. Sometimes, I liked to pretend that I was healthy, but people fussing over me gave my façade away- albeit I didn't blame them.

The woman studied me for a few seconds, her piercing gaze sweeping over my timid frame and asked, "Sick?" I nodded meekly and her eyes softened. She went back towards the coffee table and instantly crushed the cigarette against the ashtray. She then leaned against the wall.

"How do you know each other?" I asked curiously and Logan and the woman's eyes met, a blush creeping up Logan's neck.

"A decent kid he is, isn't he?" she said-almost stated, not answering my question and fixing her fake nails. She wiggled her fingers, admiring them and continued, "It's difficult to find men who won't leave one opportunity to fuck you."

Her crude language shocked me, perhaps because I wasn't expecting her to say anything.

Once I had recovered, I added playfully, "Well, Logan has his moments too."

"What?" Logan's face was red with mortification and to his chagrin, the woman laughed.

"Of course, he does." She smiled enigmatically.

"I do not," Logan protested childishly and suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Our short conversation lulled and Logan and my eyes widened in alarm. We both shot up from the bed.

"Go to the kitchen," the woman directed us and placidly made her way to the door. Logan and I scuttered to the kitchen which was as small and dirty as the rest of the apartment. He grabbed me by my arms and shoved me in the crammed up space beside the refrigerator.

"Who is it you think?" I whispered to Logan who stood an arm's length away in front of me.

We heard the door open and a gruff voice speak, "Hello ma'am, sorry for the disturbance. Can you please assist me in this--- " he paused, there was a shuffling noise and then he continued, "---have you seen this boy around here?"

Logan and I both stilled, barely breathing. The man wasn't Logan's uncle, I clearly remembered Logan's uncle's voice, it was different. But the man was one of the men of Logan's uncle who had accompanied him in his SUV car.

"No, sir," Logan's neighbour's voice was velvety and smooth. I sighed inwardly, we could indeed trust her for she had not ratted us out yet. Logan was still frozen, afraid to make a single movement, but it seemed like he had immense hope in this woman.

"Do you mind----?"

"Marilyn," she introduced, so her name was Marilyn.

"Uh-yeah," the man's voice came out a bit awkward. Marilyn might have flashed her bits for distraction, not that I had any problem as long as she was helping us. In fact, I had already developed a liking for her despite her daunting aura. "Do you mind if I check inside? We're checking in each person's apartment, it would really help."

Logan clutched my hand tightly and both of us gawked at each other in horror. Our eyes were screaming at each other, "We're going to get caught! Damn this plan! Damn his uncle! Everything's done and dusted!"

"Of course, it would help sir," the way 'sir' rolled off her tongue was seductive, beguiling and wanton. I was surprised that I could still decipher what she was speaking because the sound of my own and Logan's heartbeats thudding loudly had captured my mind. Then, I had to strain my ears to the fullest to hear her whisper flirtatiously, "But wouldn't it be an invasion of privacy, sir? Wouldn't it?"

The man cleared his throat, obviously aroused. "It would er-ma'am."

"Marilyn," her tone was still provocative, even a bit pushy. Poor, poor man! "You should call me Marilyn, I quite like it."

"I-I'm sorry--- "

"Why are you apologising for? And what were you saying earlier? Oh yes, you were asking to look in my home and disrupt my privacy. Although, I won't mind if you invade my privacy, sir," sickening honey dripped from every word she spoke- boldly and luringly. She purred softly, "If you know what I mean . . . "

Logan and I both looked at each other uncomfortably, this was getting too intense.

The man's voice came out strangled and hoarse, "Sorry to-to bother you, ma'am . . . Er- Marilyn. I'll be on my way, have a-a nice day."

"Aw, you're leaving? Anyway, you too have a nice day, handsome!" And the door was shut within a fraction of a second. "Come out kiddos, handsome sir is gone," she called out sardonically.

Logan and I both sighed audibly, relief flooding through us. "Thanks, Marilyn."

She shrugged casually. "Not a big deal." Her tone was back to normal, no more sultry, but poised and cool. It seemed like there were two completely opposite people residing in her. Only seconds ago she was oozing of pink, sex and femininity, but now she was back to being her badass self.

"Well, that was close," I gushed, my heart brimming with newfound adulation for this woman. "And I honestly thought that we would get caught. He was just meters away from us, we were bound to get caught. It's all because of you Marilyn, you're really slick."

"Ain't I?" She wasn't the least affected by my praises, she already knew that she had handled the situation well. But it surely wasn't arrogance. There was a bored and indifferent expression lingering on her face like she had expertise in this tricking field. "You kids can stay here till the path is clear, then you go your way."

And we did as we were supposed to do, we left after an hour when everything was normal. I had thanked her again out of basic courtesy, but she waved her hand dismissively. Although, I didn't miss the small, surreptitious smile playing on her lips which made her youthfulness surface. It might not have been intended, but rather subconscious. Either way, I knew that we weren't a nuisance to her.

We cautiously slipped inside the truck and Logan started to drive. The heaviness was still weighing down our shoulders, but there was a sort of assertiveness that since we had outwitted his uncle twice already, we could do it again.

"Marilyn is nice, isn't she?" I said suddenly and Logan jolted upright. "I could visit her as a friend. She liked our company."

"Don't get too involved with her," he said in a warning tone and I gave him a puzzled look.

"Why? I guess she was weird in the beginning, her place's odd and she shows too much skin, but we need to stop being judgemental. She has been nothing, but kind to us," I pointed out and he reluctantly nodded.

"She is kind," he drawled, his eyes fixed on the road. "But you don't want to get too involved with her, not that it's bad . . . " He couldn't find the right words to explain and I snorted.

"Is she like a prostitute or something? I feel bad for even suggesting this after the way she has helped us," I said in guilt and noticed Logan's features harden, his lips set in a straight line. "Wait, she is a prostitute?"

"Sort of- yeah," he confessed in a low voice. There was a strange silence for a few minutes and then he said, "It doesn't matter though."

"Yeah, it certainly doesn't," I agreed sincerely. "What matters is that she helped us."

Logan nodded vigorously, but I couldn't bite my tongue from saying more.

"I kind of had the idea from the way her place smelled and how she carried herself with so much ease. She got a solid vocabulary for a person who-who . . . Never mind. I guess all people who do that don't necessarily talk using slangs, it's another stereotype maybe." I tapped my index finger on my chin in wonder. "You know, in a weird sort of way, her eyes remind me of Eliza- my Liz. They have different coloured eyes, but both have or at least had that similar desolation looming. Don't you think or-or maybe it's just my imagination?"

"Yeah," he said faintly, but I didn't know for which question he had agreed.

"I want to help Marilyn because I see a part of Liz in her, you know. Like a doll- pretty, hopeless and bleak, but I think Marilyn wouldn't want me. She's fierce and unlike Eliza, she would die trying before she admits to her defeat. Whereas Liz, she had already admitted her defeat. She did try, of course . . . " I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. Logan was listening quietly, the same hard look on his face and I shifted towards him. "Anyway, how did you befriend Marilyn?"

For a moment, I thought he had lost control of the truck, but he regained quickly.

"She's uh . . . " His face flamed and his gaze momentarily flickered to me. "She's not my friend, but-but--- "

"You slept with her, didn't you?" I practically screeched, accusingly and teasingly.

He shook his head frantically, he could scarcely contain himself. I was enjoying his discomfort and he noticed that because he took a deep breath and said sharply, "No, I didn't. A bit of kissing and-and a bit more."

"Wow, you got frisky with an older woman, prostitute or not. That's a real achievement!" I encouraged cheerfully and he looked like he would burst into pieces from embarrassment.

"Stop now," he said indignantly and I grinned.

"Isn't that illegal though?"

"None of what we're doing is legal," he reminded me and my grin widened.