Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Ludus- Three

We stepped outside into the sticky air, me lagging a few steps behind trying to keep up with her large strides.

Jane dug around in her pockets and searched for the keys. Once found, the garage door began to rise with a loud screech.

The car made a clicking noise and within seconds she was inside with a seatbelt already on. I hadn't realized I had still been standing there, the engine erupted and created a fog in the hot air before me. Hurriedly I got in, pulling the seatbelt over my chest and sitting back.

She backed out of the long driveway and began heading into town. She drove with both hands on the wheel while I kept shifting around on the cool nylon seat. It was quite low to the ground and I felt like I was being swallowed by the cushion. It smelled just like her bedroom, and her bathroom, and the soap I used to wash away my dried up sweat and tears in the shower. "Won't it be a little..." I licked my lips, just like last night my words got lost in my throat. "Weird if people see us out? Together, I mean."

We passed by neighborhoods where children rode bikes and ate ice cream on their front porches. I smiled.

"What's weird, Florence?"

"You know . . .?" She took her eyes off the road and gave me a look that said she really didn't know. "You're a teacher and kids from the high school go to the town square all the time."

Jane adjusted in her seat and thankfully switched on the AC. "They're not worried about me." She gave me another look, but this time it looked like 'and they're not worried about you either'. "And with it being summer break, the last thing they want to see is a teacher. Most of them are off at the beach this time of the month, anyway." She reached over and patted my thigh, "Relax."

I brushed off the tickle that graced my leg, taking a deep breath. She was right, I needed to relax. Here Jane was giving me a bed and food yet I was looking over my shoulder like I was on the run. In a way, it did sort of feel like that. I was indeed running, whether it was to or from something, I couldn't decide.

We inched closer to the town square. With the weather getting warmer more people starting coming out. Even with the occasional rainfall people still dressed in shorts and tank tops and wore glasses to hide themselves from the relentless sun. However, even with the nice weather, the town center wasn't nearly as crowded as I assumed it'd be.

Jane pulled into the bakery parking lot. She decided that after my shower it would be nice to go out for dessert and get some fresh air, after all the house had grown stuffy and latched onto your lungs

I looked up at the sign "Sweet Tooth" and realized I had been here on occasion with my mom to pick up Fatimah's cupcakes for some student government end-of-year celebration. That had to be freshman year (though each year after that we found ourselves ordering and picking up more when she was promoted to student body president). I've never been inside. My mother would have just finished scolding me and I had no desire to show my face.

"You comin'?" Jane was outside of the car standing with the door open. I quickly moved, flushed with embarrassment she had caught me in another daze, and unbuckled myself.

Inside Jane ordered and shooed me away to go find a table. I settled on one in the back, close to the exit near a window where across the street was a fountain, the town's prized possession. Outside kids were playing and splashing in the water while their parents sat on nearby benches keeping a close eye on their wandering children.

Jane came back with a small plate and forks. My hands were in between my legs and my muscles were tight. I didn't get out often, I think Jane could tell.

She took the seat across from me and set the dessert down. "It's lemon raspberry, I think you'll like it." While handing me a fork her fingers brushed against mine.

"Thank you." My voice had barely come out above a whisper.

"Good, huh?" She took a bite and slowly removed the fork from her mouth, licking her lips afterwards. I wished she would've gotten some coffee or water to go with it, my throat was becoming dry. With averted eyes, I nodded and looked back at the park.

"My dad used to take me there all the time when I was a kid." She said suddenly.

My eyes dropped to the half eaten cake, "My father never let us do anything like that. He didn't like the idea of us wearing bathing suits or splashing in unfiltered water."

She chuckled softly, "Seems a little strict." Her voice trailed off while she leaned forward and allowed her chin to rest on the top of her hands.

"He had his ways." Addam Patel, my father, despised us. I more than Fatimah, but still a strong disliking no matter how it was worded and never failed to remind me of it. He, like most Pakistani men, had hoped for boys.

A year after we were born, he and my mother had tried again. And again and again. When I was five, I scarcely remember my father's grunts through the walls, my mother always silent, three days out of the week.

Thankfully that one week out of the month we got a break, and that seemed to be when our mother was the happiest.

But each time they tried, they failed. My father said it was a punishment for not marrying a nice woman who was fruitful and had a womb big and healthy enough to bare all the children in the world.

"What about your mother?"

I didn't like the path this conversation was taking. I took another bite at the cake then slowly put the fork down.

"Florence," She hesitated, "Were you kicked out?"

Another thing about Jane, she never did sugarcoat things. If she had something to say—whether you liked it or not—it would be said. "No." Not exactly, I thought. "It doesn't matter." It wouldn't matter, it couldn't matter. I won't let it.

She had gotten no where with me. I shook my head, ready to retreat back to the fold-out couch in the middle of the living room.

"You're thinking very hard over there . . ."

I looked her in the eye, frightful still after this only being the second or third time I had done so, and swallowed. I got lost in her green, got warm there, made a home for awhile, and for a second, relaxed like she had told me to. Jane was good at holding eye contact, I was still fidgeting around in my chair and it wasn't until the bell above the door chimed, my gaze was brought down to the cake-coated fork.

I managed to speak because the silence had lasted too long and although I had broken contact, her eyes remained focused on me. I cleared my throat once more, "There's a lot to think about."

"That's true." She swallowed now and it made me think that she could use a glass of water as well. "Thinking is kind of a tricky thing to get around."

"Yeah ..."

"Words are nice too."

"Words are just as tricky as thoughts, maybe even worse because they're spoken aloud."

She laughed and it showed off all her teeth and a dimple. "Are you going to dodge everything I say?" I think she was joking, because of the laugh, but her tone was so utterly serious I almost thought I was in trouble.

Crossing my arms, "I just believe some things are better left unsaid."

Jane stood up and pushed in her chair, "I think we've had enough dessert for one evening." I followed behind as she led us back to the car. It had grown to be dark now, the summer heat turning to a coolness and suddenly I didn't mind the jeans and long sleeve I'd been wearing. I had hoped that I didn't upset Jane. She didn't say much of anything when we got in the car and it continued until we had gotten to the less populated side of town.