Courage

Chapter One

[Maya]

I was trying to finish reading a chapter of The Outsiders when my roommate, Caroline, and her boyfriend, Caleb, started making out. The sound their lips made whenever they would pull back, just to kiss each other again, was hard to tune out.

"Do you guys mind?"

They pulled back to glare at me, Caroline on top of Caleb with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"You could leave," Caroline countered.

"Or, she could join us," Caleb said, a grin making its way on to his face.

Caroline giggled. "You're so nasty." The couple then started kissing again and I began to feel uncomfortable, so I got up, grabbed my jean-jacket, and left.

As I walked to library I began to feel uneasy as I passed people who were in little circles. For some reason—and I don't why— I get nervous walking past crowd, I always feel like they're probably whispering about me, my appearance, the way I dress, just anything.

I stared down at the cracks in the ground, walking fast, hoping I don't trip over my own feet or an invisible string. While keeping my head down I accidentally bumped into someone.

"Jesus Christ," the girl who I bumped into grumbled.

I looked up to apologize. Francesca Russo. I went to high school with Francesca and her siblings for one year. I never talked to her, she never talked to me. We'd run into each other occasionally when my old friend, Amber, would ask Francesca about her brother, Eliomar, who she had a crush on.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. Her scrutiny made me feel nervous, more nervous than before.

"Well, why not try looking up when you're walking?" She said, as she lightly lifted my chin up. She didn't hide the impatience in her tone.

"Right," I muttered, chagrined.

She picked up the book that I had dropped. "Johnny Cade and Dally die," she said, and then stalked off.

Well, there goes my entertainment.

"Spoiler alert," I muttered.

"'Scuse me?" she asked, as she turned around, her layered hair moving as well.

"Oh, I didn't say anything." I smiled. She turned back around and strutted away.

[Francesca]

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

I chanted that in my head, a technique I try to use to calm myself down. It never works.

My girlfriend, Delilah, and I had just gotten into an argument about me being "materialistic." She had said that money doesn't solve problems. How would she know? She doesn't have enough money to confirm that.

Now I have to suffer through this car ride with her. If I had driven, I may have committed manslaughter. It took everything in me not to spaz out on her.

On top of that, I was disrespected by someone who stutters when they speak. Maya Scott. The girl bumped into me today, so, in response, I spoiled the ending to the book she was reading, The Outsiders. Anyway, she mumbled something unintelligible when I walked away. Punk. I just feel so disrespected today.

After staring out the window, angrily, for fifteen minutes, she stopped in front of my apartment building. I grabbed my purse without looking at her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Delilah asked me.

"Not really," I said, still not meeting her eyes.

"So you'd rather stay angry?"

"Yup."

"Okay, be that way."

I sighed and finally looked at her. "Delilah, you have to understand that you made me upset. I was having a good day, but you messed it up."

"Whatever, feel however you want to feel." She waved me off.

I got out, making sure to slam the car door.

Now I'm pissed.

"Camila!" I called for my sister as I walked in my new, insipid loft apartment.

"I'm in the kitchen," she said.

I walked in and Camila was at the counter with a takeout menu in her hand. My older brother by a few minutes, Eliomar, lives in New York with his girlfriend, and my younger brother by a few minutes, Leonardo, is in New Haven. So that leaves me with my sister, Camila.

"Fran, when are we going to buy cooking utensils?" Camila asked.

"When we find the ones that match the style of the house, that's when," I answered.

"I don't want to keep going to restaurants for breakfast, lunch and dinner," she complained.

"Want to go shopping with me tomorrow?" I ignored her complaining and changed the subject.

"For what?"

"To swim. What do you think?" I snapped. She'd asked a dumb question.

"No, I mean, to buy what?"

"I don't know. I just need some retail therapy. Delilah totally pushed my buttons today." I admitted. "Seriously, is it 'Piss off Fran Day'?"

"What'd she do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, but you brought it up," Camila muttered.