Street Girl

08 | elliot

After what happened the other day, that makes sense. My chest pulls, but it isn't pity I feel for her. I'm not like Katie. I don't pretend, at least not like that. I just want to help.

"Fine," I say, "I'll take it back. Wanna come in for a bit?"

"What? No, I think I'm good."

"I have Fruit Roll-Ups."

Lucy's nostrils flare. "What?"

"Fruit Roll-Ups. You know, those—"

"Yes, I know what they are, Elliot. Are you seriously bribing me with fruit snacks to get me in your house?"

"Yep. Take it or leave it."

After a few moments of silence, where she eyes the shit out of me, she huffs. "Fine. I'll come in for like, five minutes."

Grinning, I hold the door open for her. Lucy passes under my arm, and once again, I'm alone with this girl. Her eyes—dark brown, spotted with gold—shine under the lobby's chandelier. They're so pretty, but she looks at me like I'm a freak.

"Are you seriously high right now?" she asks.

"What? I had a shitty day, okay? Don't judge me."

"Okay then. Anyway, you said something about Fruit Roll-Ups?"

"Right, they're in the pantry."

She kicks off her boots and sets them on the mat next to Charlotte's old Uggs. I follow her to the kitchen, and it's funny how she already knows where to go. Little stalker girl. And she's so... short. Her green and black flannel reaches past her hips while baggy jeans hide the thinness of her legs. Lucy goes straight for the stool she sat on last time, and I toss a Fruit Roll-Up at her.

"Hey so, look..." A faint blush crawls up her freckled cheeks as she tears off the wrapper. "I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday. You were trying to help. Thanks."

"That's okay." I pause. "Did you know those guys who attacked you?"

"Sort of. Everyone knows everyone around there."

"You're okay now though, right?"

"I look okay, don't I?"

Aside from the fact that she's super skinny, yeah. She looks good.

We fall quiet. A million words are on the tip of my tongue, but I'll just babble like an idiot if I open my mouth, so I keep quiet.

"You know..." Lucy's Fruit Roll-Up dangles from her lips like a snake's tongue. "You're not very good at this whole talking thing."

"Well, fuck. Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

"Sorry—shit, I mean. I'm not sorry?"

I laugh. She does, too, but she hides her teeth with her knuckle. It's pretty cute, not gonna lie.

We sit for a while, and I tiptoe around asking her questions about herself because I don't want to be too pushy. Mostly, I ramble. She listens to me complain about my dad and hockey and school, before she eats three more fruit snacks and says she should go. It sucks, because for a minute there, I'd actually forgotten everything going on with my friends and the team.

Chimes cling at the front door and echo through the hall.

"Shit, that might be my parents," I say.

Lucy scampers to the back door, but I slide in front of her.

"No! It'll be worse if they see you sneaking out back. Just play it cool, pretend you go to Saint Jacob's."

"What?"

"My high school, genius."

"Don't get snarky with me, Junior."

I raise my eyebrows at her, just as Mom and Dad walk in with grocery bags in their arms. Their eyes land on Lucy and widen.

"Oh!" Mom exclaims.

"Hi." Dad frowns. "El, aren't you gonna introduce us?"

"Right. This is Lucy. She's my—"

"We're partners," Lucy says.

"Yeah." I nod. "For Science."

"Right..." Dad's hawk eyes squint at me.

Oops. Not supposed to have girls over when they're not home. Sorry, forgot.

Dad sets the grocery bags on the counter and faces Lucy. She walks right up to him and shakes his hand.

"I'm Lucy. It's nice to meet you, sir."

My jaw nearly drops as she gives the same polite greeting to Mom.

"Aren't you adorable," Mom gushes.

Lucy grins and hides her mouth, and I swear her cheeks redden. No longer the mischievous thief girl I've been getting to know, she adopts the persona of a nice, shy student. And it's genius. Mom and Dad eat it right up.

"El," Dad says, "is Lucy staying for dinner?"

Lucy backs away. "Oh, no, it's okay."

"You sure?" I whisper. "My mom's making pizza."

"No, really." She nibbles at her bottom lip. "I can't intrude..."

"Nonsense, you wouldn't be intruding at all!" Mom points in the air. "It's decided, then. Lucy, you're joining us for pizza. It's been way too long since one of El's friends has been over."

Lucy forces a tight-lipped smile. "Of course. Thank you, ma'am."

While Mom and Dad put away the groceries, Lucy follows me into the living room, where I face her with a smirk.

"You know, you're awfully polite for a street girl."

She shoots me daggers, leans up on the tips of her toes, and whispers, "I'm going to kill you for this."