She didn't really want to drag him into the mess that was her life. She didn't want him to know that she was homeless, that she lived in a tent beneath the bridge. He deserved someone nicer, fancier, cleaner. He deserved someone who had money like he had. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was spending time with him simply because she wanted his money.
She sighed when he insisted that he walk her home. She shrugged as she headed towards the door. She thanked Ernie the bartender before she pushed open the door and began to walk down the sidewalk. She was a little unsteady, but functional enough.
A few feet from the door when they were out of earshot, she stopped and turned to face him. "Look...I've been living on the streets since I was 16. I can handle myself." As a sixteen year old, living on the streets was a terrifying experience. She was so afraid of the other homeless people, the crime, the constant fear that she'd be raped or murdered. But years living that lifestyle had shown her just how kind and genuine a lot of the other homeless population was. She wasn't afraid anymore.
She ran her hand through her hair as she sighed. "I live in a tent beneath the bridge near the ocean. You'll be sorely out of place if you walk me home." He had no idea of her struggles in life. He had no idea just how hard she worked to be able to afford the drinks she drank tonight. She had given up a lot in her lifetime to just get by.
But for some reason, he was still standing there. "Now's the time you run far away from me." He could do better. He could have any woman so why would he want the homeless girl who lived in a tent and woke up to the sunrise over the ocean?