Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈𝐈. Pragma- ThirtyFour

"I was praying," Her fingers wrapped around the thin string outside of her cup, dipping and pulling the bag, "and I wanted to wish you luck, though I know you won't need it."

"Yeah, well, let's see if I can keep up." The steam from the coffee warmed my cheeks. I've heard little of her disconnect with her religion, starting with her father and then being banned from the mosque I knew had a whole other layer of reservations about. I didn't pry, having no comprehension of a power beyond myself and religious inquiries that would cause me to be devout enough. "I didn't know you still practiced."

"I haven't, not until recently."

"That's good. I'm happy you're finding your faith again."

She nodded, not lifting her gaze from her plate. "Are you ready?"

"I don't have a much of a choice now do I?"

"I mean, it can be a lot to digest after a year of being off..." She was treading lightly. Smart.

"Don't you think I know that?" I whipped my head, feeling my eyebrow flex into a frown. The venom of my words was apparent to me too. I tried to quickly recover, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to say it like that. I guess..I guess I am a bit anxious." I was aware my sudden angst no longer caused a visible reaction from her.

"Well if you scold your students like you do me then everything should go over smoothly." She didn't bother letting me finish my breakfast, taking the plates to the sink and beginning to wash.

"It's different with you."

"You've said that before."

"Because it's true."

She scoffed, "you'll always find a way around my words, won't you?"

"I will." It was a true. I had a habit of mending things  into my way. "I should get going, there's a bit of a commute."

"Yeah..." She stood at the entryway with the rest of my coffee in a tumbler. The door stood wide open, the remains of a breeze whisking the strands from my ponytail. She anchored her weight to one foot, eyes widening in deep concentration.

She had me a nervous wreck this morning. I bit my lip, unsure of how this departure was to go. "We haven't quite figured out the phone situation but the landline is here. I'll be in classes all day but you can leave a voicemails..."

Florence closed in on the distance between us. The immediate closeness slowed my rambling and I circled in on those dark brown eyes. "I'll be okay, Jane." She rose a bit on her tippy toes to reach me at my heeled height, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Have a good day."

I brought my hand over her waist, squeezing. "You too, Florence."

She let me go after that, keeping her head peaked out of the door until the elevator descended.

-

I thought I was done with bars after my last time at Nicky's. It was right after I kicked Florence out and had stupidly decided to confide in him. Much of that seemed a blur now but I was fully aware that I had gotten belligerently drunk and made another reckless mistake for the third time that day.

I've known Viola Quinn for years. At least, as long as I worked at Westlake High School when we were hired together our first few years out of college. I had no idea what I was thinking moving back to the town I visited when seeing my estranged father but staying in California, with my mother, was not a choice. And after receiving my degree and finishing my second year of teaching, I was not feeling as fulfilled as a successful twenty-something should be. So I fled—another tasteless habit of mine—and wound up interviewing at the very same high school my long time friends, Nicky and Kaylee, went.