Paper Flyers

Chapter 14- Winnie

Skip ahead three months later to Quinn's birthday.

Quinn and I were sitting on a rusty park bench in Woodland Park Rose Garden. Our competition to take the best photograph was reaching its end. The deal was, whoever had the better picture had to be treated to lunch. Even though I had the better picture, there was no way I was going to let him pay for his birthday lunch.

"Well," Quinn said, throwing his hands up in mock-defeat, "I think you may be the photography champion."

I grinned and lightly punched his arm.

"Well, birthday boy, where do you wanna go for dinner?"

"Since I'm paying-"

"No you're not", I interrupted, "It's your birthday and I'm treating you to dinner."

"But-"

"No 'but's," I smirked.

Quinn sighed

"Alright. How about 'The Zig Zag Café'?"

"Sounds good to me!" I replied.

We made our way down the wet streets of Seattle side by side. There was a slight drizzle in the air, and as we walked, the crusty mud in my converse grew damp again and dripped down the sides and onto the gray pavement beneath them.

I had this habit of trying to imagine out the lives of the people who walked by me. Thankfully, Quinn and I usually walked in silence, so my mind had a lot of time to wander.

My eyes grazed my surroundings for a victim of my deduction. A young, blond girl. As I tried to figure out who she was, Quinn stopped.

"Winnie?"

I then realized he had tried to talk to me, which honestly surprised me.

"Yeah?"

He dropped his head.

"What were you thinking about?"

I dropped my head in embarrasment.

"Oh, um, I don't know, my store? My family?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your favorite kind of cake?"

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Chocolate."

"Okay."

And we kept walking like nothing had happened.

When we reached the café, the line was out the door. Quinn and I trotted up to the back of the line. We stood and chatted for probably ten minutes, when I noticed that both of Quinn's hands were together and balled into tight fists.

"Quinn?" I asked, clearly sounding worried.

"Yeah?" he asked, his head dropped with his chin on his neck.

"You okay?" I eyed his hands, and he understood.

"Oh, erm, I'm not really a big fan of crowds. Or waiting." His voice nearly quivered at the end.

"Hey," I grabbed his hands, "We don't have to wait in this line if you don't want to. There are plenty of other good places to eat downtown."

"No, I really do want to eat here."

"Okay."

We were emerged into silence once again.

With nothing left to do, I stooped to the level of checking my phone. I was never really one to use electronics. The only reason I actually had a phone was because my mom got me one before I went to college so I could keep in touch. We would occasionally chat on the phone, but besides for that, her plan for communication had failed.