six || please take me away from here

71 5 3
                                    

"I'll see you tonight, D," Madison said, smiling with a tinge of awkwardness. She turned around, and followed the light crowd back to our apartment building, only some blocks away. I scanned the sidewalk, and saw a wrought iron bench outside a store next to the one we had just shopped at.

Upon further inspection, the seats were rusted, and there were stains and recycled gum sticking to the armrests. I carefully chose my spot to sit, missing the majority of filth. I crossed my legs and took off my glove in the eyes of nobody but me. Instinctively, I pressed the home button, but my phone didn't unlock.

I couldn't get out of the habit of using the touch ID on my phone, even when now, it didn't work. My fingerprints were, apparently, unrecognisable. On one hand, I couldn't automatically unlock my phone. On the other, it made it much easier to rob banks if the opportunity ever arose.

I typed in my birthday into the number pad, manually opening the phone app. Nitara was the first contact, so I simply pressed her and held the phone close to my ear.

I read somewhere that it was bad to hold your cell phone by your head, because of radiation or something. I slept with my phone a ways from my pillow now, but in the moment, I couldn't care less about it. All I could think about was Nitara and food.

On the third ring, she picked up. "Diana? I was just about to text you; I found some extra time and finished your work uniform-"

That caught me by surprise. "Already?"

"Yep." Her voice crackled. "What's up?"

"I'm on the school route," I explained, looking down the street in the direction of Nitara's apartment. "Did you want to meet me for food?"

"Yeah!" Nitara said, and I could hear shuffling in the background of her call. "I'll be there in five."

I started to say goodbye, but the dial tone hummed once again. Nitara often ended calls like this with everybody, so I didn't take it personally. Instead, I slipped my glove back on and waited.

Ten minutes later, I see Nitara wave down the sidewalk holding a bag around her wrist. I stood up, and my back screamed in protest.

God, I was only a sophomore and I had back problems. It wasn't the classic strain, though, but more of an amplified version of what I felt in the store. A burn that I felt radiating through my clothing.

I grimaced when Nitara walked up, but I fixed my posture as she did.

Nothing slips by Nitara. "Are you okay? You look like you swallowed a bug."

"...Hiccups," I said, grasping my bag and walking again with Nitara. After walking more, the feeling went away. I only hoped that it wasn't from the alley incident and that I wasn't slowly dying. Nitara trailed my eyes. "Where did you want to go?"

I thought for a moment. "Well, I have twenty dollars from Madison, so... we could go to the deli grocery, if you want. It's only, like, four blocks from here, and probably the cheapest option."

Nitara nodded, and thrusted her bag at me as we walked. "Here. I sewed the shirt, bleached it, and I even ironed the pants a couple hours ago. They're still kind of warm."

I took the handles and opened the bag. I could hardly believe my eyes. No stains.

"That black stuff really was a bitch to clean," Nitara hummed. "I soaked it forever. It dried up and was super gross and I kind of felt bad for putting it down the drain, because, well... it did that to you."

fearless || peter parkerWhere stories live. Discover now