The Benefits of Public Transportation - Yumikuri

Chapter 7 - 554 days ago

It was 11:30. I had packed up some lunch in a brand-new picnic basket and wrapped it in a checkered red-and-white cloth, just to be cheesy. I had the basket clutched to me, like a child I was afraid of dropping. Probably because I was afraid of dropping it.

Phew. Breath, Ymir. It's just a date.

She showed up at 11:37, just as mysteriously as she had left before. I didn't see or hear how she arrived, but it was her knocking on the door.

"Um. Hi...hi."

She smiled, tugging on one of my sleeves.

"Whada you say we get out of here..?"

"Haha. Ha. Umm. Yeah. The car's outside."

"Okay. I assume you're driving?"

"Yeah. Um, let's go."

We drove through downtown traffic to a little park buried in the streets. I pulled in to the crowded parking lot, grabbed my keys, and unlocked the doors.

"Ready, princess?"

"But of course. Where we headed?"

I grabbed her hand and lead her through the trees, stopping at what seemed like a good spot. Sunlight dappled the ground, which was covered in leaves and pine needles. I dropped her hand and took the blanket from her, shaking it and spreading it out. She stood, watching me as I did this, a small smile playing across her face. She sat at my indication to do so, and peered at the basket I sat down between us.

"Wow. Ymir, I'm impressed." Said Krista, glancing up through her hair.

I blushed, ducking my head and playing with the hem of my shirt. She unpacked the food, and I sat down next to her.

"Fried chicken and pancakes." She laughed. "And whipped cream, of course."

I handed her a beer and bottle opener.

"It's 12 in the morning you absolute lesbian." She responded.

"Your point?"

"That's fair." She conceded. "I'm always down for a... What is this... Sweetwater Ale? Isn't that an East Coast thing?"

"Humph. Show off." I grunted, swigging. "Anyway I'm fucking starving, pass me food."

"Wow dirty mouth. Watch your goddamn language. Here's your fucking pancakes you nerd."

She applied excessive whipped cream, and handed it too me, telling me to hold on as I started to cut into the first one. She dug back into the basket, and finally balanced a single chicken leg in the snowstorm of whip.

I wrinkled my nose. "That's disgusting."

"Party pooper. Give it to me then," she replied, snatching it back and adding even more whipped cream.

"This is how you get diabetes." I giggled, as she got fried bits and whip around her mouth.

"Fuck you I'm skinny" was her response.

We didn't end up eating much. We just took our beers to the swings and took turns drinking and shooting whipped cream down our throats. As far as first dates go, it wasn't bad at all.

When the whip bottle was just air and the beer was on its last dribble, we packed up.  It was about 2, and lots of preschool kids had arrived. Krista stole my beanie and ran around the playground with them until the white moms made her stop. We walked slowly back to the car, not talking all that much. It was awkward, but it felt nice, companionable. It was good silence.

After we got back to the car and I drove her to her house across town and I waved goodbye and drove home, I smiled. Krista, for all her crude humor and sharp tongue, left behind a happy, childish energy that I had lacked for a while. I caught myself bouncing or humming or dancing around my apartment for the rest of the day, even doing shitty things like paying bills or doing the dishes.

After I ate dinner and had climbed under the sheets, I got a text from Krista.

You look cute when you're nervous. Nite you nerd.

I went to sleep with a smile on my lips for the first time in years.