Reclaiming the Sand
Page 27

 A. Meredith Walters

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Ellie laughs and I smile bigger. “I like when you say weird crap, Flynn. It’s sort of funny.”
“Don’t laugh at me. I don’t like that,” I said, worrying that she’ll start being mean again.
“No Flynn. I won’t laugh at you. Only with you. Cool?”
I don’t know what she means but I can tell she isn’t laughing at me so I feel okay.
“You can come to my house. You can have some of my mom’s banana bread. She makes it every day for me,” I tell her; happy she wants to come with me.
“Your mom makes you banana bread every day?” she asks me.
I nodded. “Every day. It’s my favorite.”
Ellie is quiet again. I look at my watch. Three minutes until I will be home.
“Can I stop to pick some flowers?” Ellie asks, pointing at the yellow flowers on the side of the road.
“I have to get home,” I tell her, crossing over the wooden bridge that leads into the woods by my house.
I know where I am. I like knowing where I am.
Ellie stops following me. I look down at my watch. I have two minutes. But I don’t want to leave Ellie by herself.
So I stop. I cover my watch with my hand so I can’t look at it. And I wait for Ellie while she picks the yellow flowers with the black dots in the middle.
I am going to be late. I have two minutes.
But I won’t leave Ellie by herself.
She comes back and starts walking with me. She holds the flowers and twists the stems together into a knot. She isn’t smiling anymore. Her mouth is turned down again.
Then she throws the flowers into the stream by the road. Why did she pick them and then throw them away?
“Why did you do that?” I ask, pointing to the flowers in the water.
“They’re too pretty,” she said.
“Like you,” I tell her. And that makes her smile. I am glad I said it.
She looks at me and I drop my eyes. I can’t look at her. It makes me feel strange.
“I’m too pretty?” she asks, her voice rising but she is still smiling.
I nod. “You’re beautiful.”
It is true. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Much prettier than the lady on television that reads the news. She makes me feel funny inside too. But Ellie is prettier. She makes my stomach turn. I like her.
I don’t look at her though. I have to get home. I should have been home one minute ago.
But then Ellie takes my hand. I try to pull away but she won’t let me. I don’t want her to touch me. But she won’t let go.
Her fingers go between mine and it feels really strange. I don’t like people touching me. But I think I like Ellie touching me. My stomach turns again and I feel a tingling lower in my body. I have never felt that before. I don’t know what it is. It makes me nervous.
“I like you, Flynn. A lot,” she said and I look up at her. She isn’t looking at me but she is still smiling.
“I like you too, Ellie,” I said and she squeezes my hand and then drops it. My fingers curl up and I hate that she wasn’t touching me anymore.
I like it.
I like her.
A lot.
And she likes me.
I am happy.
10
-Ellie-
“So my lease is up at the end of November and my landlord said he’s renting it out to someone else,” Dania was saying as I counted the money in the cash register at the beginning of my shift.
I hoped my friend would leave soon. I had three chapters of reading for my English class that I had hoped to finish this evening. I then had to write a five-page essay. I was strangely excited to get started. I was finding that I loved my college class.
After I had gotten over my initial feelings of inadequacy I was able to get into the experience. And even though Casey and the others kept their distance I was too engrossed in the lessons to care about the looks I still received.
I had even done something crazy. I had spoken with the financial aid lady about whether I could afford to take more classes next semester. She had looked into it and said that the state would pay for me to take four classes. That would make me a full time student at Black River Community College.
I never thought I would be full-time anything other than possible jail inmate or JAC’s employee.
We had talked too about the possibility of my transferring to a four-year school after next semester. I had immediately shut that conversation down. While I was making the step to even consider continuing my education at the community college, talking about going on to an actual university had me close to a panic attack.
I just wasn’t emotionally ready for that kind of preparation and commitment. I was only now getting used to the idea that perhaps there was more for me than minimum wage and the prestigious honor of being Jeb’s employee of the month.
My bag toppled over, my textbook falling out onto the floor. I hastily kicked it under the counter before Dania could see it and start asking questions. I wasn’t ready to hear her unsupportive opinion.
I tried to give Dania my full attention. I couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t looking very good. Her skin was chalky and she had dark circles under her eyes as though she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her long, dark hair, normally glossy and full of body, was lank and dull.
“So what are you going to do?” I asked her, knowing that problem solving wasn’t Dania’s strong suit. I knew I would be called on to help fix her situation. It’s what I had always done.
So why was I now feeling slightly resentful at her inability or unwillingness to figure this stuff out on her on?