Picasso's Promise

Episode 22| Chinatown

Greeted with a smile, I threw Picasso's open after having read his text to meet him outside minutes ago. When we signed-out for lunch, I said I had to rush to the restroom before we could leave, and he agreed to bring the car around for me.

I'd seen the outside of his car a multitude of times, but this would be the first chance I ever got to drive in it with him.

A flutter started in my chest when I touched the handle, biting my lip to fight the grin on my face as I slid inside. He rode around in a car that was low to the ground, making me duck my head more to get in. The car was painted a dark shade that looked almost black from a distance, but up close had a green hue that was speckled with sparkles in the paint if you looked close enough, making it shimmer under the sun.

Picasso was ahead of himself, diverting the conversation quickly after a short hello, and asked for me to explain what I experienced with Yenifer before homeroom. I hesitated, squirming in my tan leather seat when he asked, however, found the courage to relive the altercation.

Bursting in, I had thought the stalls were all empty and that I was alone from the first glance. I rushed to the sinks to wash my hands, rinsing off my sticky fingers. That morning, I had breakfast in the cafeteria, picking at the flat pancakes till they began to taste less like food and more like cardboard drenched in maple syrup. I hated the viscosity of artificial syrup, but despised the unpalatable flakey batter even more.

A stall I'd thought was unoccupied flew open, stretching a dark shadow across the white tiled restroom floor. I looked at them from the mirror, masking my horror at the appearance of Yenifer with a glance back down at my fingers that had a paper towel in between my palms.

"You gotta lighter?"

My throat tightened, slowing the movement of my hands on the damp paper. "Are you talking to me?"

"There ain't nobody else here."

"I don't have one."

"Damn."

Before I could stop myself, I asked, "They search our bags; how could I sneak a lighter in?"

She swore softly to herself, tapping her nails across the blue bathroom stall door in a manner that reminded me of an addict, erratic and impatient. "They took my vape last week."

She brought that to school? She was stupider than I thought. What did she think would happen bringing it to school?  That they'd frame it?

"You got a vape?" she asked.

"No, I don't suck on batteries to smoke. I like my air clean and without carcinogens."

She snorted a laugh. "That don't even sound like English."

My eye twitched, losing a brain cell with each second I spoke to this braindead individual.

"It is English; maybe if you read the words on the boxes of what you smoke, you'd see it says that word. It means the formation of cancer, which can happen when you smoke that garbage."

She shrugged. "We all die of something; I'd like to choose the way I die."

What was with her? Why was she talking to me like we were friends? Why was she acting like she hadn't thrown me into a dumpster to snatch off my shoes less than two months ago? I wanted to yell these things to her, give her a piece of my mind, but decided that would only get me in more trouble.

Originally deterred by Genesis' other friends, she was still no match one on one. The girl stood close to six feet tall, capable of touching the ceiling of the restroom if she jumped high enough. I could hardly touch the top of the door frame leading out of the restrooms, making me dwarf beside her when she crept in closer.