“They were in all the mailboxes a few days ago.” “You didn’t get my flyer? About the rising cost of water in San Diego?” He tapped his chin. I was just heading up to see your mother about the bathroom fixtures.” I closed my quivering lips around my straw as he stopped short of the stairs and turned to us. “Where does he buy his jeans?” Marisol whispered. We both turned to see Thomas, manager of the year, cross the patio toward the staircase. My North Park fairy tale could never have any language of its own, whether Spanish or English, or anything out loud.īehind us, a door slammed a trio of tiny black birds fluttered from one of the courtyard olive trees, zooming past our heads. Nothing more in my world.” I drank my mango smoothie, stopping just short of brain freeze.Įxcept it won’t stop feeling like something more.īut I couldn’t, couldn’t tell anyone-not even her, my shorter, curvier other half. “Look, he’s just a Jefferson graduate who happens to speed-read his way through his breaks at my workplace. “You mentioned he has a girlfriend like it matters.” Marisol grinned that grin, and I knew it was gonna get bad. Whom you dressed in finery and just watched prance around the Jefferson stage.” “He didn’t, and I didn’t, either.” Only from midnight to four-thirty.
“He probably thought about it all night, Darcy.” Our alley antics were just me, remembering stuff I’d read and thinking fast. “There was nothing between us to change in the first place.
I pressed my fingers against both temples. Won’t it be weird now?” Marisol said, back to English. She sipped the blueberry smoothie she’d brought, our Saturday morning tradition when I didn’t have work. “For the tenth time, I was not kissing him. Besides, she was too preoccupied with me lodged against Asher lodged against a brick wall. I’d conveniently left out the part about her jacket being lodged against Asher’s back and a brick wall. “¿Mientras que yo estaba a la escuela, tú estabas besando a Asher?” She fanned herself. By the time I’d gotten to street tacos and Asher’s accident story, I’d shocked her completely into Spanish. Two minutes into my run-through of last night’s events, I thought she was going to topple off our mosaic table bench. Barrie, Peter Pan, and Peter Pan Mystery Scribbler
And that the one thing would be anything but him. To have only one thing to feel for the whole day. “Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.” I wish this could be me.
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