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Jimmy ★
"So Miss Ruby," I began. "what do you want to ask me?" I cross my leg over my other leg and clasp my hands together as if I were being interviewed on a talk show.
"Hmm." Sugar ponders with a grin, tapping her fingers against her face in a rhythmic fashion. "Where did you and Jennifer just move from?"
"We just moved from New York. Specifically Brooklyn." I told her.
"That sounds like fun! What was it like there?" She put the palm of her hand under her face and her elbow on her knee and leaned in closer to me to better her hearing.
"It was fun." I assured her. "We had a lot of hip friends. We would run around the city until late causing nothing but trouble. Playing music beneath the city it was-"
"Magical." She finished. She had this starry look in her eye, as if I had just told her she had won five grand and she was visualizing what she would with it. She seems to light up everytime the subject of music comes up. I love seeing her that way.
"Yeah. Magical." I smiled.
"Tell me more about the music!" She insisted. "Did you see any real-life Broadway shows?" At this point, both of her hands were underneath her chin as she peered up at me with her big beautiful eyes. Gosh she is so darling.
"Yeah actually. My moth—" I stop myself from going any further. I was so lost in thought I hadn't even realized I had began to speak about my mother.
I wonder if Sugar has caught on to the fact that this isn't the first time I've refrained from talking about her, like when we were on the telephone the other night.
"Hey." She placed her hands on top of my own. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. Okay?" She offered me a smile. I smiled back.
The thing is.
I wanted to tell her.
As crazy as it sounds, I wanted to tell her about the hell my mother put Jenn and I through.
I've only known this girl for about four days now but there is something inside me that makes me feel as though I can trust her with my life. She makes me want to tell her about the nights my mother came home high off her ass or the many many times she would overdose and we'd be the ones to find her. Even the good memories like her teaching me how to play the piano and how to correctly use my singing voice.
