The Near-Dimensions Traveller

CHAPTER I: It may be a family curse

SHE WHIRLS AROUND before blushing again, willing herself to walk as naturally, but in an attractive way. Like she saw a lot of her friends doing back when she wasn't a pariah and they're hitting the clubs and pubs for fun.

"Hi, Kee!"

"I hope you left already," her friend says in a bored voice, hoping Maissa isn't late as usual. And she wouldn't have been, if Christian didn't pop up on her way.

"I'm on my way to the train hop, I'll be there in a few," answers Maissa as she stops before her favourite bakery. It smelled delicious and she nearly drooled when she saw the middle-aged woman put her favourite chocolate simits in the showcase, steam still going up in circles off of them. "Do you want a simit?"

"If they're fresh," says Kirly as Maissa walks into the bakery.

She walks to the slim, middle-aged cashier and orders two chocolate simits, just as she hears her friend on the phone, "I'm allergic to chocolate, Maissa!"

"Since when?" Asks Maissa back, as she puts a finger in the air and the woman only wraps a simit. "Whatever, Kirly. Do you want anything else?"

She wasn't about to argue with her friend over her just-discovered chocolate allergy. Kirlyam is a diet enthusiast and has tried a number of slimming regimes over the years they've known each other. Her friend had a weight problem since childhood, but it's not as bad as Kirly believes. They both fall on the curvy spectrum, but although Maissa is totally proud of her curves and edges, Kirlyam can't help but try to lose weight. Perhaps it's because she's the only one out of her sisters that doesn't have runway model measurements. For Maissa, being healthy and athletic is far more important than showing off her bones in crop tops. And she tried to help Kirly as much as possible to accept herself, but her friend is more stubborn than a battering ram.

"Just hurry," says her friend and Maissa pays up and leaves the bakery. She opens up her bag and takes a bite of her simit, before continuing her way to the train hop.

"Can you check for me when the next train arrives?" Asks Maissa, taking another bite and almost jumping with joy at the blissful feel of chocolate on her taste buds.

"Train?"

"R335 or R253."

"What? What train are you talking about, Maissa?"

"I just told you!" Answers the girl another beep sounds on her phone. "My mom's calling me, Kee. I'll see you soon."

She hangs on her friend and dumps her empty bag before answering her mom.

"Maissa? Have you taken my burgundy mask?"

"What mask? Halloween's months away."

"This joke is too old even for a historian, Maissane. I'll just use the sapphire-blue one. Do blue and pink look good together right?"

"Colours usually work good together. I'm surprised you even have clothes that are not black, dark grey or navy blue."

"Well, technically they're yours but I told my date I'm a few years younger than my actual age so I have to dress the part," says her mom and Maissa laughs at it.

"Who was talking about old jokes?"

Maissa often told her mom to try to move on from her heartbreak and pain caused by her dad's betrayal and passing, but she never takes her seriously. And if she were to be honest, perhaps a guy isn't the best coping mechanism for a depressed, jobless woman with bills overdue and two adult kids. But her and her mother still joked around about their equally deficient love lives.