Fish Eyes

10

"So what's that you use in your hair?" I tried my best at casual flirty as I glanced down at Dalia.

"So you took me seriously when I said 'next time you stalk me at my home,' eh?"

"Was I not supposed to?" I grew clammy almost instantly.

She just rolled her eyes in response. My chest sank in relief. She pulled away from the door. "Lock it, dude."

Don't gotta tell me twice.

"Oh, and I'd say this is the most impulsive thing I've done," I reminded her of our game, yet again.

She continued walking back to her bathroom. "Stalking me at my house? But you've done that before."

"I was referring to meeting you in the first place," I contended.

"I don't feel like I'm impulsive. If anything I'm predictable."

"Maybe to you, Dalia."

She flipped on the light of her personal bathroom. It was spacious and had two mirrors and sinks; for what reason, I had no idea. Her items were sequestered to one side and the room had a tub and shower separate from each other. The toilet was in a little closet to itself. "How much money does the studio even make?" I muttered more to myself.

"That's a question I cannot answer. All I know is enough."

She pulled out a bottle of something. "This is my shampoo. I swear by it. It has a matching conditioner," she pulled another purple bottle out and slammed it on the counter. "Take pictures," she demanded.

She continued to walk me through her process, one with a thousand and one steps.

"Who actually has the time for all this?"

"People whose hair rejects Cantu. Next question."

I  leaned against her bathroom sink.

"What's your sexual orientation?"

Her big eyes bugged out of her skull as she gaped at me. "I thought I told you not to make this weird."

"I'm not being weird," I raised my arms in protest. I was definitely being weird. "I just remember you saying you didn't like guys when I first met you, and I never knew which way you meant."

She squinted her eyes before saying, "I'm bi."

"With a preference for women," I joked, citing the reason I'd asked her in the first place.

"I wouldn't know, really. I haven't dated anyone. My childhood crushes are about equal though. I really find Zoë Kravitz to be a dime."

I remained silent.

She took my lack of response as discomfort and offered for us to sit on the living room couch. 

I looked around the house questioningly, wondering why it was so quiet. Our footsteps seemed to echo off of the high ceilings. 

"No one else home?" I asked.

"Nah, parents are at work and Tanesia's at daycare."

"Tanesia?"

"My infant sister."

"Ah."

I sat down on one of their leather burgundy couches and instantly felt more relaxed. The thing felt like wealth.

Instead of sitting so she could look at me, she opted to lay back on the couch with her fingers crossed across her stomach, as if she was looking at the stars. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon. "Do you like the stars?" I asked her, sounding dumb and simple.

"It's not your turn, fool."

"Right."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah. A lot of family in general. We all live together. Which is why this house being so quiet is... unsettling to say the least."

She contemplated this. Her fingers drummed against her stomach, and I was glad I got the privilege to observe her without her staring back at me like I was a creep.

"Yeah. Money requires time. We're home all together more than most families I know, but then again, there's only four of us. And my parents work together."

"Being broke requires time too. None of my family is at home at the same time either, but there are more of us, so it never feels lonely."

"Who said I felt lonely?" she asked, notably without irritation. She was still drumming her fingers.

"Wasn't me," I responded. 

She continued this conversation. "How much family we talking?"

"Ten of us."

"Wow," she held her mouth in the 'o' shape for a while. "Sounds like a hassle."

"It can be, but that's nine people who are required to love me. Makes things a little bit easier to deal with. I'm protective of them. We're a pack."

She hummed in response as if she was contemplating this. "I do like the stars. Pretty decently, I guess." 

"How so?"

"Well I'm a Pisces, and we're supposed to be into shit like that. I like them in theory. We don't see much of them in person in the city so I've never had the chance to like them outside of that. I like the idea that there's something up in the sky that we can see and sees us right back."

"Like a god?"

"Like a friend."

"What's your sign?"

"I'm a Scorpio."

"So I'm guessing you like the stars too."

I actually had grown up in a rural area where there were lots of 'em. We'd play and frolick during the day and catch lightning bugs outside. There were more trees than people cars and buildings, so the air was clear enough for us to make out constellations. It was one of my blurry yet significant toddler memories.

"I like anything that can inspire me to make something," I responded, not wanting to talk her ear off about my personal life.

"I had an idea for our photography project, speaking of which," I diverted the subject.

"Yeah?" she sat up, a glint in her eyes.

"Yes ma'am. Wanna go see it?"

-

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