A Pearl In The Oyster ☑️

22. L'avenir - The Future

What did one need to be friends with Lily Jones? I didn't know a thing about friendship, or the things it consisted of, or the terms that made the word friendship.

I did a lot of contemplation on the matter, but I came to a blank every time. Did someone even need a qualification to have a friend? I was being ludicrous, but the matter just didn't leave my mind. I spent the entire night thinking about it, and woke up with an exhausted mind and body.

Even two hours later, as I waited for Lily to pick me up, I spent time trying to tear off the skin on my lips. If someone saw me, they'd think I was on the brink of life and death, and here I was worried about a simple shopping trip.

A text message arrived on my phone, and I jumped at it in nanoseconds. Lily and I had exchanged numbers from our brief meeting yesterday, and I believed that text was from her.

'Come out, I'm here,' she had written. Taking a deep breath, I walked out of my room. On my way, I made it a point to straighten the dark blue full length tunic I'd worn over my off-white tee. Clutching my black bag in hand, I skipped the steps of the staircase and opened the front door.

In front of the fountain, stood a white Audi. Lily rolled down the windows, and gestured for me to step in. Hesitantly, I walked towards the car. Once I was seated, I looked over once, before averting my eyes.

It must have taken her almost twenty seconds to put her car into reverse and get out of the estate. But, those twenty seconds were the most awkward moments of my life. I fiddled with my thumb endlessly, looking around awkwardly.

"What's the matter? Are you alright?" Lily asked me, and I nodded.

"I'm fine," I replied. I couldn't possibly tell her how awkward I was feeling. She would just laugh at my stupidity.

"Why did you wear a full length dress? It's so damn hot outside," Lily said, and I noticed her outfit.

Clad in pink shorts and a cream off the shoulder top with bishop sleeves, she was rocking the summer look. It was the end of July, and New York was more humid than ever. That didn't really stop people from roaming the streets, but she was right. As soon as we would step out of the car, I would be sweating in no time.

But what could I do? I didn't own anything that didn't go below my knee, because I preferred it that way. Someone had once told me, that I must always cover myself up from head to toe. That's how I wouldn't be labeled as a putain.

I shivered as soon as those memories resurfaced. Those crazed eyes, that sleazy laugh. Mama's cries that echoed in the background. The hot stick that burned through my soft flesh. The silent tears that flowed on my cheeks like a waterfall. My nails that dug so hard into my skin, that my palm cut through and bled.

I pinched my eyes tightly, as if doing that would help expunge those memories. Memories that were like overstuffed clothes in the carrier of my mind. No matter how much I pushed them inside that furthermost part of my brain, the more they plopped up. And even if I succeeded in getting them all inside and zipping them up, it was a matter of time before the carrier would open up out of pressure.