Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

|| 12 ||

The next few pictures are of her and people who look like they would be her family. There is even a family portrait. It looks to be at least twenty people posing in someone's backyard. There's a picture of a younger version of her mom in a wedding dress. Actually, her mother doesn't look as old as she should be, given this picture and her children's ages. Good to have an idea of what Andi may look like when she's older. And well... not bad.

The man beside her looks quite a few years older than her. That may because of her deceptively young appearance, but I can't believe she would be the same age as the man with the beginnings of grey speckles peaking through his dark brown hair.

"She was thirty-five," Andi says, popping up from behind me and taking me by surprise. "He was forty-five. They were kind of friends for two years. Dated for three months. Found out my mom was pregnant with me. They were in love and figured they should try marriage. Had the wedding about two months later. Had their first fight on their honeymoon. I think it was from then on that they started just working just to be married. Not that they didn't have good times or love each other, but their marriage was more of a struggle than either of them really expected. Five or so years later, everything seemed to change almost instantly. Things fell apart all at once, then slowly until we were all at least a little miserable."

She continues staring at the picture with sad eyes and a smile. I think that pretty much sums up her life; always sad eyes and a smile.

"Who's this kid?" I ask, moving on to another picture. I recognize one as Hayden, but I have no idea who the blonde-haired boy beside him is.

"That's Jax," she says. "He's Hayden's best friend. A weird kid, but really fun. I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough. We can never seem to get rid of him for very long," she jokes.

"Do you ever bring them to the warehouse?" I ask.

"No. Hayd kinda knows about it, but he's never been there."

"Are you ever gonna take him?"

She thinks about it for a second. "I don't know... I guess maybe when he's older. It's not the most kid friendly place."

I chuckle. "Hide the booze and you'll be golden."

"Not to mention R's stash of condoms behind the fridge," she laughs.

"Hmm... Good to know." She slaps my chest. "Kidding!"

"Yeah, sure," she laughs. "You ready to get to work?"

"Ugh," I groan playfully. "I suppose."

"I don't know what you're complaining about. You have to sit there and do nothing."

"Still." I shrug.

"Whatever," she chuckles. "But let's go out in the back. There's horrible lighting in here."

"Yes, Mrs. Parker," I whine. She shoots me a scowl but continues to lead me through the door and down the stairs after picking up a pad and paper. We step out onto a wooden porch and walk down the small stairs. I expect her to stop before the tree line, but we continue through the little forest area. We walk a bit before coming to a stop by a tree with a swing hanging from a branch. There was a little wooden floor set where the branches meet in the middle that has blankets and pillows scattered about.

"Is this you little hideout?" I ask, looking around in awe. I could completely see her hiding away out here, escaping for a bit to breathe and relax.

"Yeah," she sighs, smiling. "My dad built it when I was little. I've always had a thing for swings. It's my happy place. Something about having your feet above ground and the feeling above. You're not on the earth anymore, and all its troubles can't touch you."