Dance Till I Die (gxg) ✓

"Dreams Don't Come True"

ACE

         "Where do we go from here?"

         "There is a safehouse," said Ace, "in Southern France. There is a train in Europe that leaves every two days."

         "Southern France!" Isla's eyes had widened, excitement glazing her expression. "So we can eat croissants and strawberries and cheese all day?"

        "You're lactose intolerant, Isla," Mavis warned.

        "When has that ever stopped me?" Isla said, taking a swig of the chocolate milk Ace had bought for her.

        Ace added, "There are Froot Loops in the trunk."

       "Now I can die happy," Isla sighed.

        Mavis shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

        Ahead, the airport sidled into view, hidden behind a long, curving stretch of grey road. But Ace's eyes cut to her wife. 

        To the tic of her jaw. The fold of her hands in her lap.

       "Mavis?"

       "I'm fine," Mavis said brightly.

       Ace had been trained to spot signs of deception. Of anxiety. And Mavis . . . was lying to her.

       Every nerve in Ace's body sparked on fire.

       Behind them, a car honked.

       Ace's fingers were already tightening on her gun when Mavis stopped her. A gentle hand on her bicep. Squeezing lightly.

       "Please no more killing for today, alright?"

       Ace relaxed slightly. Let her fingers unclench around the gun.

       The drive to the airport was faster after that. In the backseat, Isla finished her Froot Loops and chocolate milk combination just as Ace parked diagonally on the airport's flowerbed.

       "Are we allowed to do that?" Isla said, setting down the chocolate milk bottle onto the concrete near her foot.

       Mavis growled, "Baby, don't you dare―"

       Isla kicked the bottle―a twenty-foot distance, right into the trash can next to the airport's sliding doors. 

       A woman with a polka-dot suitcase startled.

      "Baby, we've gone over this," Mavis hissed to Isla. "No kicking things!"

      "But Mama, I made the shot."

      "That was . . . very good." Ace had not known Isla was athletically talented. With a kick like that, Ace would not discount the possibility of her becoming a true ninja.

       "Thanks, Ace! See, Mama? Ace thought I was good."

       "She's the captain of the soccer team at school," Mavis explained later, as they walked through airport security. 

       "I thought she did not like school."

       "She―well, she doesn't. And she likes playing soccer, but she knows the only reason she's captain is because none of the kids are very . . . good."

       Ace began unloading her weapons.

       Mavis continued, "Middle school starts in around two years, so hopefully by then she'll have some competition. I mean, besides this little asshole Cory."