The Guadeloupe Squadeloupe

Chapter XXXIV: Guad

  Bob shakes his head at me, pretending he doesn't know what I'm talking about. "Why wouldn't I be able to go to San Diego? It's just another city isn't it?" His blue eyes pierce me like a knife in my heart. He knows exactly what I'm talking about. "They all are."

  "Should we trust these people?" Janis asks out of the blue. "I mean, Bob's parents could have been involved in HEXA."

  Diana narrows her eyes at her. "Why should they be? They wouldn't let their own son be experimented on. No parents would."

  I have the sudden desire to put a hand on her shoulder, to explain to her that not all parents are perfect. And some, like mine and Bob's, cared enough about themselves to betray their children.

  "Let's kill some time, guys. Okay?" Perry says, interjecting in the conversation. For once I'm happy he's spoken. Not all of us have had the same experiences, and if we let our opinions break us up in our choices as a group, we'll never make it to America.

  "Would it be a terrible idea to buy clothing?" Diana asks. "I thought it would be a cool idea for us to check out some clothes from here."

  "I don't think that's a terrible idea," I tell her. It's been over a decade since I've gone shopping for clothes, but ever since I've worn the sweater Perry bought for me, I've finally understood the appeal of new clothing.

  "You all know how stylish I am," says Bob. I glance at his blue sweater with tears and holes singed with fire and I want to laugh. The only thing I know about Bob's "style" is that he only wears long sleeves. To hide his bar code, I guess.

  It's only a few minutes until we're in a clothing store, surrounded by racks of fresh shirts, pants, ponchos, and accessories, which Diana describes as "scarves and stuff."

  I find myself with her amid these articles. Before I know what's happening I have something being roped around my neck.

  "Whoa," I exclaim, staggering back a few steps. My hands go up to my neck and my fingertips graze one of the softest substances I've ever felt. "Whoa," I say again.

  Diana's eyes squint as she laughs and her smile is made known for one of the first times since the "Diana's next" note.

  "It's a scarf," she tells me.

  "I've realized that," I laugh. I unwrap the scarf with difficulty, wondering how she got it on so quickly in the first place. When I have it in my hands I look down and examine it. It's simple and silky, a light green that doesn't stand out to much. Like myself. I couldn't understand how quickly she could pick one out that matched me so well.

  "I like it," I tell her.

  "You do?" The excitement at my words is almost more than I could have asked for.

  "How could I not?"

  "No," says someone behind us. They interrupt our conversation in the shirts section.

  Diana and I join the rest of the squad where Janis and Bob seem to be arguing.

  "You don't want it?" Asks Janis. "You yourself said it looked cool."

  "It does but I won't wear it," says Bob. He holds a short sleeved t-shirt with a llama in a poncho on it.

  "Why not?"