library hearts

13 | fine

After a couple of seconds, she inhales, and says:

"I don't think you're a psycho, Asp. I think you're just as smart, beautiful, creative, and human as anyone else. We're all human. Sometimes, one can just need a little help. It's not weird at all."

"I don't want help" I say, but I'm not even sure now.

"Then that's okay too" says London, and smiles sincerely at me. "It's not that I mind staying with you through panic attacks; that's totally okay. I just want you to feel better."

I nod, unable to reply.

Then, when I glance at her, I realize that she's carrying the pumpkin.

"Should I help you with the pumpkin?" I ask.

London smiles again. "No. It's fine."

I grin, can't stop myself. "When people say it's fine, it's never fine."

London rolls her eyes, smiling. "But this time, it's actually fine."

I begin to cast something back at her in return, but my mind trails off and I stay quiet.

Does she actually think that I need help?

Do I need help?

To prove that I don't, even though I'm not sure myself, I say:

"I've not had any panic attacks for four days, now."

Feeling my cheeks turn red, I add: "When I'm with you, it just doesn't kick in."

I may be wrong, but London's eyes almost seem to shine with salty water when she says:

"That's... that's more than I ever hoped I could do for you. That's amazing, Aspen."

I smile.

As we the stall, London a firmer grip on the pumpkin and I purse my lips, trying not to start laughing again.

I don't think my stomach can take any more laughter.

"I wonder what they'll say when they realize we've taken the ugliest one in the patch" I say, pursing my lips even tighter, my mouth stretching out in a grin.

"Hm" says London. "I'd die if they told us to go get a new one. Literally."

There's no line that snakes its way up to this stall, it's almost empty in this part of the harvest festival area. In the stall, a guy with dark curly hair stands awkwardly, looking at his phone.

Suddenly, I realize  that I recognize him. But I just can't put my finger on where I've seen him.

London walks up to him. As I follow, she knocks a little at the table and says:

"Hey. Are you supposed to work here?"

The boy flinches and looks up, startled. His eyes are a rare color of turquoise blue, like the Mediterrian oceans. "Eh... yeah, you could say that."

His gaze leaves London and glides over to me, back to London again.

Putting down his phone, he fidgets with something under the desk. He nods to a giant metal bowl at the side of the stall, adding: "Put the pumpkin there. The price range depends on how much it weighs."

My mouth has suddenly dried out, and I'm unable to focus on anything but the boy's burning gaze on my back as I walk after London to the weighing scale. If I'll have to talk, I'll panic.

She tosses the pumpkin down into the bowl, all incautiously.

"Careful" I whisper. "We don't want it to be uglier than enough, you know."