I glance down. Stare at her shoes. Navy blue, plastic platform shoes. I refuse to look up at her, let her have the satisfaction of seeing my red puffy tear stained cheeks. If she see's, then they all do, then they all know how much it hurt; how much this meant.
I take in a breath.
"I'll go then?"
I force myself to look up at her. Her eyes cold like metal, an icy wind, like the feelig of a freshly risen goose bump after a clean scare.
Her eyes bare into mine.
"Go."
I rush off stage tears spilling down and hitting my feet. All the girls with their glittering eyes turn to see me dash out the door. A pathetic mess.
I shove my way through the crowd, walking in short stompy strides, elbowing my way across. My eyes catch glimpse of a gleaming glass door reflecting every body that walks past. The exit. I press my body against the metal handle and step out on to the side walk. People who are walking past are beginning to stare. I pretend not to care and lean my body against the brick wall and slide down. The side walk is disgusting, old chewed gum is stuck to the bottom of my thigh. I cringe and bury my swollen face in my palms.
"Have you gone mad?"
I peek through my fingers, too embarrased to show my face. A tall boy with a startled stare looks down at me.
"Uh-Ah.. What?"
Ignoring my question he begins to rant.
"Have you gone mad? This sidewalk is far more gross than a public restroom and here you are wallering in it. Feeling sorry for your self are we?"
Noticing he's getting in the way of the people walking past, he crouches down next to me.
"Take your hands away from your face and look at me please."
Normally I wouldn't take random demands from a stranger, but he acted thoroughly concerned, like a girl in a glittering tattered dress with make up running down her face was fascinating.
I move my hands slowly sliding the tip of my finger across my cheek to catch stray tears.
"There she is." His voice is soft and he pulls out a miniture germ-ex bottle from his jean pocket.
"Clean your hands off, it's quite gross." He has a thick british accent and it works well for him.
I snatch it up quick and squirt a puddle in the palmn of my hand,slowly wiping them together.
"Can I take you to lunch? Maybe you can tell me why you are sitting in the middle of a walk way?"
A chuckle escapes from my lips. I glance up at him and skim over his face, he doesn't seem much, if older than me. His eyes are soft.
"I don't know you."
I stand up and wipe the dirt from my tights.
"I don't know you either."
He smiles at me and points to a diner across the street.
"It's right there, I promise I won't do anything but buy you lunch and listen to what you have to say."
Spoiler! :
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