Vera offered to drive me home that day. I wanted to decline, mainly because I wanted time alone to think about Mr. Lee and how he had seen me cry an endless amount of times. I was tempted to tell Vera all about it, about the way his fingers felt on my skin, his insanely delicious peppermint smell, and his impossibility perfect lips. I wanted to tell her about how I talked for him. Instead, I kept my mouth shut, or more realistically, my pen away from my notepad. After all, it didn't seem likely a topic such as that would be typical adolescent conversation.
"So there's a bonfire tonight," Vera began, the wind from the car window whipping through her hair. The scent of her cotton candy perfume wafted around the car. I leaned against the cold leather seat and shook my head.
"Why not?" She asked, puffing her lip out and quickly glaring at my displeased gesture. "You need to stop being so antisocial."
I raised my eyebrows at her and she presented a teasing smile. She knew I was going to respond to that.
I just went to the mall with you last week! I scribbled and pointed at it. She glanced at it and turned back to the road, the flux of red and orange leaves vibrantly blowing across the window from the trees hanging over the road.
"I don't remember that," Vera lied jokingly. "I think we need to hang out again."
Fine. I wrote. Vera giggled like a child and the anxiety of trying something new was already rising with each breath I sucked in.
Vera insisted that I dress nicer than I usually do, so later that day before I left, I settled with a red dress that flowed below the waist, while the upper torso was tight with thick, thankfully comfortable straps.
"Honey," Dad said quietly, an instant tear rolling down his stubbly cheek. "I haven't seen you dress like that since you were in middle school. You look just like your mother."
I forced a smile and hugged him tightly. "Thanks Dad," I whispered, not having any energy to speak any louder unless I wanted to have a panic attack. I tried with all my might to not think of my mother. Thankfully, the fact that I would be going to a bonfire with people I didn't know took my mind off the real issue.
"Not too formal, but not too casual either," I heard Vera observe when she arrived and I entered the car, looking me up and down with a smile forming on her lips. "Red is totally your color."
I ignored her compliment and put on the black cardigan I had carried with me, already knowing that she was going to comment on it.
"Oh, come on," she whined as she eyed my cardigan, scrunching up her eyebrows in disgust. "Why are you covering half your body with that rag?"
It makes me feel comfortable. I wrote and showed it to her.
"At least wait until we get there. If you're actually cold, then put it on. It's supposed to get chilly later, anyways."
I'm happy she didn't notice the black Converse I was also wearing. Chances are she'd probably puke on them. My causal style wasn't exactly vogue.
When we arrived, Vera literally trampled out of the car, an aura of excitement radiating off her. The realization hadn't exactly hit me until now. She probably wasn't going because she wanted to go with me. She had other friends. She was going to talk to other people, connect with them in ways I couldn't. I was sure of it.
A boy with a leather jacket who reeked of cigarettes and cheap beer came up to both of us. I didn't recognize him from school, not that I would recognize anyone anyways. His mature looking face had me deducing that he was in his early twenties.
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Without The Words
RomancePoppy Rose's life changed six years ago when her mother died in an accident caused by her. After grief, blame, depression and suicide attempts came a difficult case of selective mutism. Now, at eighteen, she refuses to speak due to the shame she fe...