Red Vengeance

Chapter 4- Smiles

   Tortiglioni, rigatoni, fusilli, farfalle... they all looked interesting. Devi and I were having a little Christmas get-together, just me, Devi, and McAllister. Of course, I was in charge of making pasta for it. I'm the one of the three of us who knows how to cook, but of course, I know nothing about making pasta. Spaghetti sounded easier than the rest, but I really wanted to make something a little more exciting. I studied all the different types of noodles on the shelves, trying to decide what I was going to do. In the corner of my eye, I saw a girl. She was also shopping for noodles, it seemed.

   I took a moment to look at her. She had long, blonde hair that looked so fine that if someone with rough hands like me touched it, it would fall apart into fairy dust and blow away. She wore a short, pink dress with white hearts printed all over it, and her lips were painted pink to match the dress. She wore tall, furry, knee-high boots that gave her a smooth appeal, something I liked. I couldn't see her eyes very well, they were studying the noodles on the shelf in front of her. Unlike me, she seemed to know what kind of pasta was best. She grabbed a bag of fusilli spirale noodles and began to walk away before I even got a chance to have a good look at her face.

   "Wait!" I accidentally spoke aloud. She stopped and turned around to look at me, a puzzled expression on her pretty face. I felt so silly for blurting that out, embarrassed even. But hey, at least I got a good view of her face. "Um... can you help me?"

   I studied her pink lips, her blue eyes, her smooth skin, her small, dainty nose, for a sign of anything. I wondered if she was examining me in the same way. Probably not.

   "Is something wrong?" she said.

   My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt my face heating up. I hadn't spoken to anyone but Devi and McAllister for so long. I had somewhat forgotten how to talk to strangers.

   "What kind of pasta would you suggest?" I asked.

   The girl smiled and came over to me, then picked up another bag of fusilli spirale and held it out to me.

   "This kind absorbs the sauce really well. It makes it really good," she said.

   I smiled and nervously took the bag. I was lost for words, I just wanted to look at her and to listen to her sweet voice. She kept smiling as well, and we seemed to make eye contact, just for a second. She quickly looked down, her cheeks almost as pink as her dress and her lips.

   "Special occasion?" She could tell I had no idea what I was doing when it came to selecting and preparing pasta.

  "Yeah," I stuttered a bit.

   "Me too," she said. "Every Christmas, me and my brother get together and have a pasta party. Or at least, we used to."

  Her face was sad then, and it disdained me to see such a pretty girl so sad.

   "You don't anymore?" I asked. She slowly shook her head.

   "He passed away... he was murdered."

   I felt the heat and rage rise up inside me. Whoever killed her brother was going to pay for wronging such a beautiful and innocent girl.

   "Who? Who murdered him??" I wasn't even trying to hide the anger in my voice.

   "I don't know," the sweet girl broke into tears. "He just disappeared without a trace... no one can find him. There are still search parties out searching for him, but I've given up. He's just gone, I can feel it."

   There was a lump in the back of my throat. "How do you know he was murdered?"

   She sniffled. "There was blood on the floor in his house in Molly City... A lot of blood. I heard the police talking to each other and they were saying that he was most likely murdered... I don't want to believe it, but I know it's true."

   I had the strangest suspicion in the back of my mind, but I didn't know if it was wise to confront it. I ignored it for the time being.

   "I'm so sorry," I said, trying to use a comforting voice. I offered a hug, and she gladly accepted it.

   I wrapped my arms gently around her, and she cried into my shoulder. At that moment, I felt more helpful than I had ever felt before. With her face still buried into my shoulder, she asked me a question.

   "What's your name?"

   "Sabi," I said.

   "Sabi... I'm Lydia." She looked up at me and smiled, still very close to me with my arms around her.

   We made eye contact again, and I quickly took my arms off of her and backed away, awkwardly.

   "Sorry," I said. She wiped some tears off her face and slightly laughed.

   "What's your special occasion?"

   I found myself smiling again at the sound of her laugh.

   "My friends and I always celebrate Christmas together with pasta," I said. She smiled again.

   "That sounds nice."

   We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, just looking at each other.

   "Um... want me to walk you home?" I asked. She looked more than thrilled.

   "Sure! I would love that." She said.

   It's a good thing I wasn't some dangerous guy.

   The two of us went to go check out together, then I walked with her back to her apartment. We chatted the whole way there, a few awkward pauses between topics of conversation. We discussed our hobbies, she talked about her brother's death some more, and I told her a little about my life. Of course, I didn't share with her the secret of what Devi, McAllister, and I do as a pastime. Finally, when we reached her apartment, Lydia and I exchanged cell phone numbers.

   "I guess I'll see you around," Lydia said, still smiling. I smiled and nodded.

   "Again, I'm sorry to hear about your brother." I said. Something about that was bothering me.

   She nodded. "You cheered me up tonight... thank you. I haven't smiled like this in months."

   "It's good that you're smiling... it's pretty." I probably sounded like an idiot, but it made her smile even bigger.

   "Thank you," she said.

   "Lydia... I have to ask. If your brother is gone, why are you still making pasta on Christmas?"

   Lydia's smile faded once more, and I was angry with myself for making that lovely smile go away.

   "Kevin's dead, but his spirit lives on. I feel like I should keep the tradition going in his memory." She said.

   Then, I froze. I knew it.

   "Sorry, what did you say his name was?" I asked. The lump came back in my throat as I knew what her answer was. At that moment, I felt awful.

   "His name was Kevin," she said. "Kevin Foxx."