36 questions

Chapter 3

Firefly Park is stunning, but the lack of trees means we are at the mercy of the scorching sun. Thankfully, Lilly spots a lone oak tree that offers shelter from the relentless heat.
She goes to sit down underneath the oak and I follow her lead. I feel a certain tension between us, it's an awkward kind of silence where neither one of us really knows what to say to the other person. She nervously opens her backpack and takes some papers out of it, then she takes her phone and puts it against the tree.

I can't help but feel self-conscious as I look at her, clueless about her intentions or how to break the ice. "Should I hit record?" she asks, her voice feigning boredom, yet her body language betraying her nervousness. Strangely enough, I find comfort in her nervousness, it mirrored my own. "Uh, yeah. Sure," I mumbled, racking my brain for a way to bridge the gap. "What are those papers?" I asked.

Amusement flickers in her eyes as she regards me. "I wrote down the questions in class, so we wouldn't need our phones," she explains. I just sit there, stunned, wondering why. "I was rather bored during English, so it gave me something to do," she ads. That made sense, I supposed.

"Let's start?" I say.
She nods and hits record on her phone. "Alright, so..." she begins, clutching her papers. "The first question is: If you could invite anyone in the world to dinner, who would it be?"
She looks inviting at me, she probably wants me to go first. I think it's a lame question, no one is gonna fall in love because of a stupid question like that. But I guess I have to answer something.
"I think probably..." I really have no idea and I don't really care "Jeremy Clarkson?"

Lilly glances at me, her face a mix of confusion and intrigue. I hadn't realised she could wear that expression. Usually she seemed bored and intimidating. But now, she looked like a curious child. "Who is Jeremy Clarkson?" Of course, she has no clue. "He's like... a car guru. The dude who hosted 'Top Gear'? Ever heard of that?" She shakes her head, her curiosity piqued. "He also did 'The Grand Tour,'" I ad. Still, no recognition. "Basically, he knows everything about cars and racing, and I just love watching his shows."
She nods and asks me "so why do you want to have dinner with this man?"
Shit
I don't know
I had to think of something and he's the first that came to mind. I can't say that tho, too awkward.
"Don't know... he looks like he'd be fun to talk with. He's rather funny and I bet I could learn a lot from him. He's kind of an idol to me"

She smiles
I've never seen her smile
I went with her to class every school day last year and yet I've never seen her smile
Its a real smile, candid and kind

"What about you? Who would you want to meet?" I ask her . She hesitates, only for a moment. "Sylvia Rivera or Marsha P. Johnson," she answers confidently, her determination evident. Her gaze locks with mine, her gray eyes shimmering with a tinge of blue when the sunlight hits them just right. "I don't know who they are..."

"They're great," she replied, feigning boredom again. "They were queer rights activists, and one of them threw the first punch during Stonewall." It didn't seem like she was genuinely bored; rather, she was accustomed to her answers not mattering. "And what's Stonewall exactly?" I asked, genuinely intrigued by her choice.

"It's where it all began," she said, her eyes flickering with a barely perceptible sparkle. "Back then, queer people had no rights. Many of them were discriminated against, poor and the entire community faced police violence. One day, I don't remember the exact date... Anyway, one day, the police raided the Stonewall, a club where queer people gathered. They started assaulting people, which sadly wasn't uncommon at that time. But either Marsha or Sylvia fought back. One of them threw the first punch." I can hear in her voice how important this is for her "That had never been done before. Soon, everyone else at the club joined in, and it turned into a protest of six days. Six. It remains one of the most significant days in queer history."

I'm speechless, my answer seems utterly insignificant in comparison. "Why do you want to talk to them?" It was a stupid question, but it was all I could muster. She smiles a melancholic smile at me. "Because I think they'd like to know that what they did had a profound impact on the world. And..." she shrugs "I really just want to hug them, I guess."

I think it's not the worst thing in the world, being pared with Lilly. She seems like. Someone who actually cares. I wonder what the next questions are like...

"Onto the second question?"