Buttercup [H.S]

Chapter Twenty One

I'm breathless when I hold out my hand to the young girl, hoping - praying - that she steps forward.

I see her swallow, her hands opening and closing in anxiety at her sides.

But she doesn't need to feel anxious here. Doesn't need to worry about her every move, about taking up space.

I give her a reassuring nod when she nervously meets my eye, and I promise myself that I'll never miss another week of this class if it means this girl feels she has someone in her corner.

The way Harry had always been in mine when I needed him most.

A friend to dance with when your world fell apart around you.

Abi steps forward, and I guide her into the circle of thrashing and gyrating people.

And she dances.

Timidly at first, but I stay in front of her, keeping her focus on me rather than what's happening elsewhere in the room.

I swing myself around foolishly, hamming it up so that she at least has a chance at feeling a little less self conscious if this twenty seven year old I front of her is making such a fool of herself.

Eventually she loosens up, until between the two of us we're competing in some sort of dance off; most ridiculous moves wins, prize being a plethora of laughter.

We carry on like this, each of the children calling out for different songs - Baby Shark being blared out of the little speaker twice - before the kids are being picked up to be taken home.

Before Abi heads out, I jog over to her.

"Abs, wait!" I call out, both her and her foster mum - Diane - waiting by the doors. "Here."

I hand her a little gift bag that'd been sitting in my hallway since the first time I'd met her. I hadn't managed to find any of my old art supplies, but I had managed to buy her a little sketchbook and a set of sketching pencils, as well as a fancy little tin of water colours and brushes.

She looks into the bag, Diane attempting to peak in as well.

I stumble back when Abi hugs me. My arms are floating in the air around her, glancing back to Harry worriedly. He'd told me we weren't allowed to touch the kids, and yet he's smiling at the two of us.

I look back at Diane. "Is - is this okay?"

She simply nods, and I'm quick to wrap my arms back around Abi. She's holding me so tightly, and I wonder how often she allowed herself to indulge in this sort of affection - she was such a closed off little girl, trying to keep emotion closed in. I could only begin to imagine why she'd made herself that way.

So I hold her, letting her decide when it's time to let go.

Harry drove me home after the music class, as always, and he'd followed me right up to the door. Something he'd taken to doing ever since that night with Kyle.

Kyle had yet to show up like I'd expected him to. I hoped that it was in part due to the restraining order I'd taken out against him a few days prior - with the support of my friends and Linda, my therapist.

I hold my keys in my hand, readying myself to say goodnight to Harry, when I pause.

I look up to him. His hair has gotten longer since I'd first seen him again - curling just past his ears, and constantly falling into his face.

He was leaning against the little brick wall of the tiny porch before my front door, looking off down the street, waiting for me to unlock the door and dismiss him for the night, as per our routine.