The Sweetest Devotion (The Affair Series Book 2)

Two Different Worlds

STEF POV

8 1/2 years old

"That's so cool, Stef. It's really cool! I loved how you made that fat kid eat dirt!" My friend Amanda said to me as we were packing up our books to go home for Christmas break. Agnes Elementary school was about my 10th school this year, and I was really hoping we could stay. It wasn't actually all that bad, I liked my teacher even if some of the kids were shit and often made fun of me. But I was able to hold my own as always, and Amanda Simmons was my best friend.

"Ahh, it was nothing. He had it coming!" I grinned, trying to zipper up my coat, but as usual, it was getting stuck.

"He did. He's so mean, Stef. Do you need my help?" she asked, putting her pretty pink hat over her long puffy braids and matching pink gloves. Amanda always looked nice, and her mom always took her shopping to get new clothes. Never did she brag about it ever, but I had been in her room a few times, and it was like a princess room, and she had a draw just for her socks and shirts. Her mother did her laundry, braided her hair, and took her out all the time. Sometimes she picked her up from school and they went out to eat. The only time I did those things was with Aunt Fran but never with my mother. She never took me anywhere, and the last thing my mother got me was a stick of gum when she made me run to the store to get her a cigarette.

"Nah, I got it. Shit sticks."  Finally yanking on it, I got the zipper up as I slid my hand through my broken backpack strap and put on my torn gloves. "I'm ready." I said, walking to the front of the classroom where our teacher Ms. Morrison stood smiling at us.

"Bye, Ms. Morrison!

"Bye, girls, but before you leave  I have something for you, Stefanie. Wait one second, honey." Glancing at I patiently stood there as Ms. Morrison walked over with a small bag in her hand. "It's just a few extra things I have from my daughter that doesn't fit her anymore.  There is a scarf in here with a hat, gloves, and a few shirts.  I thought maybe you would like them. "

"Wow, really?"

"Yes. They are pretty bright colors that I'm sure you would look cute it. I hope you like them."

"Thank you." Smiling wide at her Ms. Morrison, she was just as nice as my Aunt Fran. Sometimes, when I got to school early, she would give me a bowl of cereal and even a breakfast sandwich she made from home, which was always tasty. A few times, she gave me socks, underwear,  toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soap. It was another reason I really liked coming to school because she was so nice, and it helped when I couldn't see Aunt Fran. It was only hard when she asked me questions that I knew I couldn't answer or better answer properly, too. I had made that mistake once of telling her a man stayed over our place and had pushed me onto the ground. After that, some women from social services showed up, and my mother almost killed me that night. She beat me so bad with the iron cord that my thighs had big welts.

"Now you have a good Christmas vacation, Stefanie, and there is something in their wrapped that you can't open until then. Ok?"

"Ok, I promise." I grinned wide at her as she smiled back at me in her pretty blouses with fancy jewelry and matching heels with skirts she always wore. She dressed nothing like Mama and probably didn't smoke either. Miss Morrison actually reminded me of Debbie.

"Ok, sweetheart. I'll see you in a week."

"See you in a week." Hugging her, she returned it back to me just as warmly as always. Pulling away from her, her smile grew sad as I ran to Amanda, who stood in the doorway. "Bye!"

"Bye honey."

"Wow, she always gives you stuff. What did you get?"

"MM, few shirts and stuff. I'll keep them at my Aunt Frans." I said, stuffing the bag in my backpack.

"Cool. Do you want to come over to Stef?"

"Sure." I smiled as we made our way down 15-mile road. "But I'll race you to the stop sign, Amanda!"

"Ahh no fair you got a head start!" she giggled, running after me as I tagged the stop sign first.

"Don't be so slow then!" Grinning at her and laughing my head off, she made it to the sign out of breath.

"I'm not slow. I'll race you to the next one!"

"Sure." She said as I quickly pecked her lips with mine, and she looked at me wide-eyed.

"Why did you do that?"

"Um, we are friends, and I like you. Sorry." Swallowing hard, I felt silly as she smiled and started to laugh. 

"It's ok, silly. I'll race you to the next poll!" Running away from me, it was now me who laughed and quickly followed behind her. But she was much too fast for me even if I was now catching up to her giggling hysterically.

"Hurry, Stef, now you are the slow one!"

"Never!" I yelled back as she grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her.

It was safe to say that Amanda was really my best friend and the only one I had so far. We ate lunch together all the time in school, she always let me play with her toys and sometimes she played with my hair. I loved her hair too it was very different from mine, and she let me brush it when we played dress up.

"How come it's so puffy?" I asked as she giggled at me, and I continued to feel her soft brown braid.

"I don't know why is yours so straight?"

"I don't know. Born that way, I guess. I like yours."

"Thanks. I like yours too."

"My aunt Fran's friend has hair like you too. But she wears it up, but it's puffy sometimes. Other times, it's straight."

"Oh. Mine is always puffy."

"It's pretty." I smiled again as we went back to dressing up and playing barbies.

As we ran faster and came to Amanda's house, her mom was outside the door as we climbed up the steps. To me, she looked angry, and she never really looked that way at me or us.

"Hi, Mommy."

"Hi honey, go on inside."

"Can Stef play?"

"Go on inside, honey. Now, please." 

"Ok. Bye, Stef."

"Bye." I waved, watching her walk inside as her mother looked into my eyes.

"Stef honey, I know you are a nice girl, but I think it's best if you and Amanda aren't friends anymore."

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"It's just better that way, honey. You look very different from each other and  you just can't be friends anymore.  You two come from very different worlds and yours is, well yours is very difficult. She's going to a new school as well and I'm sure you will make new friends. Take care, Stef."

Closing the door behind her, I felt the tears begin to form in my eyes. What did she mean that we looked different? What did that even mean, and why couldn't we play with each other anymore because of it. Because we come from two different worlds? What worlds? I didn't get it, buy a few what I did get and feel was my first broken heart. The first of many.