“Okay, now that I’ve got you here where cell service is non-existent and the next gas station isn’t for miles; what is wrong with you? You’ve been out of it for days, we miss the old Andy.”
“We?”
Chase rolled his eyes. “We, us; all your friends who care about you and are worried; none of us can figure out what’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered quietly, dipping another fry in ketchup and popping it in her mouth.
“Well, too bad, cause not talking about it is not an option. Obviously something is bothering you; talking about it will help.”
“How do you know?” Andy asked, her anger exploding out of her. “Your life is perfect, what’s ever been wrong with you?”
Chase shrugged. “Maybe you’re right, maybe my life is perfect. But we’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you.” He reached out and grabbed her left hand, flipping it over and revealing the small tattoo on her wrist.
“Why don’t you tell me what this is?”
“It’s Chinese, it means laugh.” She flinched at his touch as he traced the symbol with his finger.
“Why did you get it?” he asked softly, locking eyes with her. She looked away quickly.
“I don’t know, I just…I knew I was leaving. I knew that I was leaving China, leaving home…again, and I didn’t want to start over in a new place without some sort of reminder. I had already left too much behind.”
She pulled her hand away, tucking it into her sleeve and under the table, clasping it with the other.
“Dad had promised we were gonna stay. He said this was it, our last home, no more moving. And I knew he didn’t mean it. So I wanted to remember.”
No comments:
Post a Comment