A story where a boy meets a girl. Where secrets and lies are always exposed and where the past comes out to play.
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"Alexandra, were you just checking me out?"
"I'd much rather shit in my hands and clap."
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When I arrived 20 minutes late to picking Francesca up from kindergarten, one could say the teachers were slightly pissed.
I signed Frankie's release form and waited patiently at the front desk for one of the school staff members to retrieve my daughter.
While I was waiting, I took the time to ponder on Evan's earlier suggestion.
Friends.
I don't do friends. I haven't done friends in over 5 years. I don't plan on settling. This place is just a pit stop to get my past off my back. I don't have time for distractions, let alone friends.
My attention was pulled to the sound of squeaking sneakers on the paving outside.
Miss Russo.
I immediately wanted to run and hide. I was not ready for my second awkward interaction with a Russo. Since the incident last week, Miss Russo has made every attempt to avoid me, or at least that how it seems.
She walked into the kindergarten with confidence. Her beauty is enough to leave anyone awestruck.
She glanced in my direction and froze mid-step. "Alexandra." She breathed.
I nodded and walked towards her, "Miss Russo."
I wondered if she could sense my nervousness and anxiety or was I that good of an actress that I could fool anyone?
"Do you mind if we speak?"
I looked briefly over my shoulder and prayed to the heavens that Frankie took her sweet time to avoid an awkward explanation. The anxiety crawled along my skin.
"Uh, sure." I said when I turned back to her.
As I studied her, I noticed how tired she actually looked. She had dark circles under her eyes that were hidden under copious amounts of concealer.
"Look, I've been meaning to speak to you, but I thought coming over to your apartment would unsettle you a tad." She said, delicately.
"No need to lose sleep over it. Evan already explained everything to me." I quickly explained.
"Oh thank God," she breathed. "I'm sorry but we can't deny that this is awk-"
"Miss O'Riley, here's your daughter." Mrs Lance, a teacher at the kindergarten, said.
"Mommy!"
Miss Russo stiffened next to me as her eyes darted between myself and the figure behind me.
I released a breath, avoiding eye contact with the woman before me. I was embarrassed and upset with myself.
I turned back to look at my beautiful 4 year old daughter.
