Girl of Mine

Chapter 56 - Dear E.

«Are you... are you okay?» She whispered, as her lips talked into my hair—holding me close. Lanky fingers stroked through my hair as she shifted to cup my outer upper arm, consoling me with such warmth. You could say tragedy brings people closer together, as Sal pictured that saying well. I unapologetically relished in her touch.

«I'm... Heh... It was a lovely letter, honey. I don't know what I am, though.» I breathed out, confused by my own mind playing tricks on me and exhausted by looking past them. «Did you bring the cards?» I asked, knowing Billy had taken a liking to them and might not have let Sal run off with them.

«I did. I brought Pepsi too.» Her upbeat voice uttered.

«Thank God.» I enunciated with a heavy breath, dramatically inclined.

«Thank God? I'm pretty sure I moved my feet on my own.» She smirked, playing off being offended as I gave her credit away, making a rounded burst of longed-for laughter escape me.

◌ ◌ ◌

Popping a second bottle of Pepsi, I pressed the sugary liquid to my lips. That striding, long, stretched-out body of mine supported itself at my elbow. And as if taking notes on my posture, Sal mirrored me and held her cards on the opposite side of the deck of shuffled cards. I had the nerve to let the crook of my smile get pulled upwards by an imaginary fish hook. She held her cards close, studying them, and the sight of her eyes crossing made me chuckle.

«What?» One of her eyebrows tried climbing her forehead as she plunged her cards into her chest.

«Nothing,» I smirked, struggling not to show any more signs of laughter.

Handing her other eyebrow a ladder, both of them now rose. Sal tilted her head as to say, 'I don't believe you for shit.' «Sure it was.»

«No, it wasn't,» I said, pulling the Pepsi bottle close to show off my very own crossed eyes.

Faster than lightning going for the kill, she fetched the checkered kitchen towel covering my Mama's baked goods and slapped me silly once. «Hey!» I called apprehensive, chuckling through my words. «Now, you really remind me of your mom last year.»

Cleverly, a cheeky smile showed on her lips—dragging the moment out as if preying on prey. «Careful, you don't want me to remind you of my father.»

Opening and closing my mouth, stunned by the turn of events, Sal got me straight into thinking back to Earnest's judgy glare with lowered glasses in the hall of the apartment in Madison that winter night of last December. «Ooooh... No, I don't.» I weighed my words, smirking in the corner of my lips.

Left at a faint angle, I stabled the Pepsi bottle against the fallen tree trunk and reached for my face-down cards. The inner edges of my eyebrows tried imitating an arrow as I thought through my possible moves. Sal's frame captured my eyes. Put to rest; she left her cards and cheek on the blanket.

My chin moved an inch to watch her strand of hair circle her cheek, and I had to stop my urge to brush her hair away to the nook of her ear. «Tired?»

«Maybe a little.» Cute as a button, her eyes closed with a smile.

Nodding for no one to see, I gazed blankly from the cards at my hand, resting my eyes on the blanket down below. Thinking back and forth, going through the thoughts within me where I wondered in which state our relationship truly was at, I couldn't take going on unsure any longer. I had carried the fear of her mind since the day before I came home, and I'd had enough of the pretending. «Sal?» I swallowed nervously, but my voice stayed calm. If only the calm before the storm.