"How are you feeling?" Mrs. Rubert goes through the same routine of asking the repeated questions.
"Better," I reply grimly.
When she only passes a stare, it's obvious I must feed her more information.
"I got a new job a few weeks ago, and I'm attending my new school Monday."
Still, her wrinkled mouth never twitches to form a word.
"And..."
I'm clueless. What else does she want me to say?
Unable to hold it in, I burst, for I'm running out of patience.
"Look lady, I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I feel like I'm wasting my breath telling a complete stranger my troubles," I say through gritted teeth, which makes my jaw ache.
And now the stupid tears come.
"I don't want to talk about it. It hurts to think about..." A lump in my throat catches his name.
She sighs, and then says, "Dieing is apart of life. It happens every day. And I'm here to help you sort through your confusion about all this. I'm willing to listen when you're ready. It's my job."
Clearing my throat, I decide to share with her what happened today. "This afternoon at work there was this customer, he was just like him. Shy, and... and different."
I laugh to myself. "It's funny how you can learn so much about someone just by looking at them, and with the few words they say to you."
* * * * *
I think of the previous conversation I had with Mrs. Rubert, and then drift to thoughts of the young man who might just become my coworker.
When the light changes to green, I push forth my focus to the road, and forget about the thinking of my day. I hear a muffled sound in my purse. With my fingers tight around the steering wheel, I fumble for my cell with one hand.
I greet with a simple, "Hello?"
"Girl! How you been?" Her loud, improper voice speaks boisterously into my right ear, so I wince.
"How have I been? I've been..." I ponder an appropriate word for the situation that happened a few weeks ago. "...mending."
"I know what you need, you need a girls night out TONIGHT!"
"Well..."
"Great! Pick you up around 8. See you then."
"Don't you think that's a little-"
Click!
I sigh and press end.
"She's so peppy," I say aloud, and beam to myself. I may of lost one of my best friends, but at least I still have the other buddy.
YOU ARE READING
Deal With It By: Audrey B. Holley
RomanceWhat the story is about... All Rights Reserved. We all see it the way we want. Life, that is. Keelie Hems was your ordinary 16 year old goody goody. Sure, she was teased like everybody else in her younger days. She is the type to believe such things...
