The Jacket

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1. Jacket

Hi. My name is Louis Tomlinson.

A lot of people would call me selfish. Okay, *very* selfish. I don’t think that makes me a bad person, per se. I just don’t like to share. I work hard for my money; why on earth would I want to give it away?

But all that changed when I met him.

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Day One

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I’d just left my soul-crushing office job. Yeah, I know it sucks, but it pays the bills, and that’s all that matters. Stuck at the longest red light in history, I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel of my 2010 Honda Civic. I couldn’t help but notice something—or someone—out of the ordinary.

He was a young man, maybe eighteen. His green eyes were sunken, his curly hair bleached by the sun, his skin weathered and worn. He held up a sign: “Anything Helps, Even a Smile.”

“Wow,” I whispered as the light turned green. I inched forward, passing him. He gave me a dimpled smile. It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.

As I drove away, my heart ached with a sudden, unexpected sadness. But why? He’d chosen to be homeless. It was his own fault, right?

Driving home, I couldn’t shake the image of that smile. God, it was beautiful. But what on earth did he have to smile about? It made me curious.

Later that night, curled up on my couch during my twentieth consecutive episode of *The Office*, he crossed my mind again. “He’s probably freezing,” I murmured, tugging at my hoodie sleeves. I felt terrible. I had to do something.

I stood up, rummaging through my closet. I pulled out a large coat and slung it over my arm. As I walked toward the front door, I hesitated. “You don’t even *know* this guy,” I said aloud. “He could be a serial killer, a creep, a druggie.”

I held the doorknob, weighing every possible outcome. Finally, I silenced the argument and opened the door, heading for my car.

Driving toward the same red light, I shook my head in disbelief. “What am I doing? What am I doing?” I chanted, glancing at the coat beside me. “Who am I?”

I reached the light, desperately searching for the boy I’d seen earlier. He wasn’t there.

I bit my lip in disappointment. “Well,” I gripped the steering wheel. “I tried.”

Driving home, I passed a park. I squinted. A figure lay on a bench. “Could it be him?”

I spontaneously pulled into the park, trying to get a better look. It was too far to tell.

I sighed, looking at the coat. “Well,” I put the car in park. “It couldn’t hurt to try.”

I grabbed the jacket and opened the car door, walking toward the bench. The brisk air stung my face. How could anyone survive out here?

As I got closer, I saw a head of curly hair, trembling arms wrapped around themselves for warmth. My heart ached. I heard quiet whimpers.

I took a deep breath, approaching him from behind. “Um…” I cleared my throat. “Hi.”

He gasped, looking up. His green eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks wet. Was he crying?

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He took a shaky breath. “You’re fine. I—I just get scared easily.”

“I can only imagine.” I gripped the jacket tighter, and he looked down at it.

“Um…” I lifted the jacket higher. “This is for you. I figured you might need it more than I do.”

He shook his head. “I—It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to take it from you.”

“No. It’s fine.” I pushed the jacket onto him. “I want you to have it.”

He lifted his arms. “Are you sure?”

I chuckled. “Yes. Take it.”

He grabbed the jacket, quickly putting it over his worn t-shirt.

“Thank you so much,” he said sincerely. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Consider it a gift.” I smiled as I saw his shivering lessen.

He smiled back.

“Anyway,” I cleared my throat. “I should let you get some rest.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Thanks again. I—I appreciate it so much.”

“No problem.” I muttered awkwardly. “Well… uh. See you around?”

I quickly turned away, fumbling for my keys and heading back to my car.

As I sat there, I couldn’t help but smile at my small act of kindness.

“Dang it,” I clutched the steering wheel. “I should have asked his name.”

I shook my head. Maybe tomorrow.