The Story of Us

six

"So.. tell me something about you." I ask her as we walk on the sidewalk.

"Well, my name is Elina Davis. As you know I'm Russian-American. My name is a combination of my dad's and mom's name, Elijah and Natasha. Dad is American, hence the last name Davis."

"Where's your dad?" I question since I haven't seen him ever since.

"Ask me something else?"

Something tells me she does not want to talk about her dad so I don't pry.

I nod, "How old are you?"

She eyes me, "You had to ask that?"

I grin, "Yup."

"I'm 22," she sighs. "And you?"

"Hey, I'm the one asking here," I push her gently with my shoulder.

"Fine," she groans.

Cute

"Why did you choose to become a teacher?"

She thought for a while and smiled. "One time when I was twelve, me and mom were swinging in the playground and a kid came and sat with his homework and he was alone. I went to him and he was having trouble with adding and subtracting and I offered to help him. He thanked me and ever since then I wanted to teach. To help kids like him."

"That was kind of you," I pat her head and she push my hand away and roll her eyes.

"I've known Igor and Natasha since Krasota opened. How come I just knew you now?"

"Well," she kicks one of the stones, "mom made me study in Asia since I was in 7th grade that's why we never met."

"Why?"

She raise her eyebrow, "Can I ask now?" she try to change the subject.

"Fine, okay." I shrug.

"So, how old are you?"

"You don't wanna ask what happened at the classroom?" I say thinking that she would open up about what happened.

"Not really. I'm sure you have your reasons but we'll get there."

"Does that mean a second dinner?" I grin.

She groans, "age?"

Changing the subject are we.

"17"

"What the fuck? I fucked a minor, god," she shook her head.

I laugh, "I thought you knew that since you said and I quote, 'you don't look old enough to be here' end quote." I tease.

"I thought you were 19 or something. Why did Davin even let you in."

"Money of course," I gave her a smug look. She shake her head and decide to take her home.

"One last question," She say as we stop in front of her house.

"What?"

"Why do you hate your name so much?"

There it goes. She had to ask that question I have longed to forget.

I roll my eyes and ignored her.

"C'mon, I am curious," she imply.

"We're not even close." I tell her.

"Close enough for you to be between my legs," she mumble.

I raise my eyebrow and she look away, blushing. I grip on the steering wheel and bite my lips, not wanting to comment.

"You know what? Never mind," she say as she hurriedly walk out.