KJ's POV
"Hi, Charlie," the girl peeks behind me, and Charlie stands upon her presence and I look between them. Something a kin to a smile crosses her face. Noted. "Charlie, you're free to go," she stands and I motion towards the now open seat, "Wanna have a seat?"
"It's Ella," she corrects me as she takes a seat, "You know, with the 'll' . Like the Spanish word for 'she'."
"Gotcha," I nod, taking a seat of my own, "How are you doing today?"
"I live unwanted in a group home," she laughs dryly, "You know exactly how I'm doing."
Fiesty... "Well," I produce her file, "I didn't exactly want to go off circumstances, or at least not the one's listed in your file. Charges for arson, breaking and entering, battery and assault, theft... This could be the counselor in me talking, but I wanna believe there's more to you than circumstances."
"What if there's not?" she crosses her arms, challenging me, "You don't know me."
"I'd like to get to know you," I shrug, "Beyond your criminal record that is."
We stare at each other, me awaiting a response and her not providing one. I shrug, "Or we can just stare at each other and make this hour the most painful hour ever."
Still no response. "Okay cool." I slide back over to my desk and begin working on something else.
"That's it?" she seems surprised.
"I'm not gonna fight with you kid. I'm grown and get paid whether you talk or don't," I pull my laptop from my bag, and begin looking into getting some bean bags into the office. One thousand dollars for a bean bag chair? You tried it.
"What if I told you that I want to die?" she asks. I turn to her, "I'd warn you that I'm a mandated reporter, so anything you say that I deem is a threat to you or others, I have to notify Ms. Lea, and then you'd probably make up some convoluted hypothetical where it's you but it's not you and and I know it's not you but can't do anything because it isn't you technically."
"What if I told you I'm in love?" she asks again.
"I'd ask 'who?' and 'why?'" I reply, "But I should warn you--- I'm an adult who thinks I know everything so all your answers would be met with immediate skepticism."
"What if I told you I watched a man die?"
"I'd be intrigued," I give her a once over, "but not surprised."
"Why are you doing this?" she asks, and I momentarily divert my attention back to her.
"Well I figured that if I got some better sitting options in here I could make it seem more comforting and less 'kill me now,' ya feel?"
"No I mean why are you a counselor?"
"Because between you in me," I lean in, "The right counselor is the only reason why I'm on the other side of this desk and not dead in a casket." I sit back, "That's why I'm here. Because I want to be the right counselor for you kids as well."
She nods, "Can I go?"
I glance at the clock, "Go for it."
She sits in my office a couple minutes longer, then stands and exits.
Layne's POV
Dear Momma,
You don't like when I bring my gay problems to you, which is why I write to you I think, because I want you to love me without the asterisk. I want you to love me, and not have it be because I'm not gay or that I pretend not to be around you and the family.
I just wish you'd come around, instead of waiting on me to stop liking pussy.
I'm glad that you're nice to KJ, even though I know you know that I want her to be your daughter in law someday. Provided you're around to see it.
***
I'm up bright and early for Aunt Saf, but not so early that I seem suspicious. I lay in bed, reading up on her Facebook, and through it locating her Instagram. Same photos on her insta is littered with photos of food and more nature stills. I stalk her insta long enough to find her finsta, which is the same set up only with more baked goods involved. I notice among all of these profiles, there's not a single candid or selfie. It's as if she's hiding.
I realize how absolutely crazy I sound and log off. She's grown. She probably has better things to do than lurk social media.
I check the clock and see it's almost time to go. I work quickly to braid my long hair, then pull it into a bun to get it out the way. Out of time, I pull on a white t-shirt and ripped jeans. I stop and check myself out in the mirror, liking how I look.
You might not even see her. Why does it matter what you're wearing?
I eat a quick bowl of cereal and then check my phone, waiting for it to bus. Outside.
I get in the car and notice Aunt Saf give my outfit a once over. I know I look gay as fuck don't I?
"Morning," I smile at her and she seems to snap out of it. "Morning, child."
She gives me a long run down of everything we'll be doing in town. I have to help set up and take down the town fair and also alternate shifts selling concessions. It's a whole day affair and we won't be going home until late. As we draw closer to town she hands me a schedule, "I need you from 9 to 1 then again at 5 to 8 until break down. What you do between 1 and 5 I don't care about, just make sure you're where you need to be when you're supposed to be there, okay?"
"Yes ma'am."
She parks near the town square and I get out, taking in my old home. I'm not the same person I was when we left this town. I don't even know who that was really.
"Alayna!" Aunt Saf hands me a box and points me in the right direction, "Go help set up."
My entire morning is spent moving and lifting, various adults telling me what to do and where to go. I haven't been here since my mom's funeral, and even though I'd blocked most of that out way before the accident.
I don't know if it's because of the memory loss, or because of the mother loss, but every turn I make someone is patting my shoulder, or talking to me like a child. "Oh, sweetheart" this or "Oh poor baby" that. By the time my break hits, I'm ready to take off.
I leave the square, looking for anything familiar to latch onto. Georgie's. I enter the establishment, a wave of nostalgia hitting me. Dil and me seated in the booth in the corner, grabbing dinner while Mama was at the hospital. Meals with my dad as a little girl, when he'd pull me out of school early.
"Well," I hear a familiar voice, "Layne- fucking- Sinclair!"
I take in the girl behind the register, "Ray Gallehan."
She gives me a devilish smirk, her pierced lip curling upward, "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
I nod and approach her.
"What brings you back to town?" she asks, typing in my usual order without prompt.
"My aunt is having me help with the event in town," I say, "What are you still doing here?"
Ray and I went together freshmen year of high school, and she clearly hasn't changed. Her hair, which has always been every shade but it's natural brown, is now dulled silver, almost grey color. A sleeve of tattoos snakes up her arm, disappearing into the sleeve of her work uniform. Her smile, although altered by the piercings, is still childish and lop-sided. When we started out, I liked her because she was dangerous and my mom didn't like her. But we got older and I started to change. I wanted more than small town life. I needed more than what my town of one thousand had to offer.
Amazing how some things change. How some things stay the same.
She laughs dryly, "I see losin' your memory ain't take any of that classic attitude away?"
I try not to let that cheap shot hit me where it hurts, "Not even a little."
My food comes out and I grab it, sitting in the corner of the restaurant. As I eat, Ray comes out to join me, in her street clothes of a t-shirt and leather biker jacket.
"Can I help you?" I ask.
"Yeah," she smirks, "Can I have a moment of your time?"
"Not even close to subtle, huh?" I laugh at the attempted pick up line.
"Well fine thing like you? I'd hate to waste your time," she shrugs.
I glance at my phone. I wasted an hour eating and had yet to find my way back to my old house. Or have I?
"Ray, do you still have your dad's piece of shit Harley?"
"Of course not," she smirks, "I have my own slightly less piece of shit Harley. Seats two?"
"I sure fucking hope so," I stand, "I need a ride."
***
Ray seems to have memorized the way to my house, and we stop at the entrance to the long drive. "You're stopping here?"
"You said somebody lives there now right? It's private property then."
"Yeah but they're renters and I'm their landlord. I should be able to check in."
"No," she corrects me, "Your brother's their landlord. You're trespassing."
I roll my eyes, "Since when do you care about rules?"
I get off the bike and head up the long drive, eventually reaching the house. As it comes closer into view, my heart starts to inexplicably race. What if she opens the door? What if she doesn't? What if she isn't excited to see me? What if she is? What if I'm wrong about everything?
Why do I even care? It isn't like I knew about her last month. I went years without her, whoever she is. Maybe I'm just inviting trouble by coming up here.
Still, I couldn't convince myself to turn around and head back to town.
I find myself on the porch and raise my hand to knock, but can't follow through with the action.
Before I can talk myself into knocking the door opens on it's own, revealing a shirtless man, sporting a buzz and five o'clock shadow.
"Excuse me?" he seems as surprised at my presence as I am at his.
Before he can ask anything else of me I turn and bolt back to Rae.