- 7.
I looked at the girl standing in front of me
and tried to think. I couldn’t come up with
anything. She smiled, and her face lit up like
the sun, chasing away the dark shadows in
my heart.
“It’s Maya.”
<
Maya Anderson, someone I went to school
with, the one I sat next to.
When I was living with Grandpa, she never
made me feel like an outsider. She tutored
me, let me copy her homework, brought me
breakfast.
She was the only kid who ever came to my
house for dinner.
Seeing that I remembered her, she grinned
and reached out to pinch my cheek, like she
used to in high school. I flinched and stepped
back.
Maya realized I was sick.
“Are you really sick?” she asked, her voice
く
I forced a smile.
“I guess you could say that.”
She realized that was a dumb question and changed the subject.
“Is your grandpa doing okay? I still want to
come over and freeload off him one of these
days.”
My heart clenched at the mention of Grandpa.
She must’ve noticed, because she said,
“Oh man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset
you.”
I tried to smile.
<
“It’s okay.”
“Grandpa passed away.”
Maya looked guilty.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay.”
Maya changed the subject again, joking.
“Why are we standing out here? You gonna
invite me in?”
“Oh! Sorry.”
I stepped aside and gestured her inside.
She looked around. The place was big, but
……
….
ལ་ཕཚ་
empty. There wasn’t any furniture.
“Bare bones, huh?”
ސ
I followed her gaze, realizing that I hadn’t
added anything to the place since I moved in.
I couldn’t even offer her a glass of water. I
smiled sheepishly.
“I just moved in, haven’t had a chance to…”
Maya nodded.
“Want me to take you around? I’ve been living
here for like six months. I know everything.”
I was confused.
“Take me where?”
く
Maya playfully tapped my forehead.
“To get furniture! Besides, you need to get
out and see some sun. You ain’t getting
better stuck in here!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do the talking. You just stick
close.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
For some reason, her touch didn’t bother me
at all.
It was like being back in high school, when
they made me run the mile, and she was the
only one cheering me on. When I crossed the
finish line, she was the only one who helped
me up.
L
I looked into her honest, compassionate eyes
and nodded.
