Memories of that night flow through my mind. It was scary to realize that I trusted someone so much, even against my better judgement. From the first moment I saw her it’s like I didn’t have a choice.
There was only Helen for me, always. When she squeezes my hand again, I know she feels exactly the same way.
Twenty-Nine
Helen
That moment when we look into each others’ eyes and profess our love might be the most important of my life. After spending my life avoiding high emotion, I never imagined such intensity could come along so softly.
It’s welling inside me like a wave, taking me over. My skin is tingling, and my bones feel electric. It’s almost as if I should be leaping around, screaming and singing, but I’m completely still.
So is Roxy. For the first time in her life, completely still.
I’m frightened by the amount of responsibility that Roxy has just given me. To know that she trusts me, even when she feels like she shouldn’t, puts me in a place of extreme power. I didn’t want it. I didn’t ask for it. I’m afraid of it.
But I’m not going to turn it down.
I grin suddenly, squeezing Roxy’s hand.
“Hey! Waitress!” I yell across the restaurant. “I’m not done ordering.”
Roxy has a sparkle in her eye, watching me and wondering what’s going on.
“What’ll you have luv?” The waitress aims her pen at the paper.
“I want a cheeseburger. With bacon. And onions. I want chili fries. I want some of those fried rolls. And a sundae. Vanilla and chocolate, sprinkles, nuts, fudge. Like seriously, put it in the biggest bowl you have.”
The waitress raises her eyebrows but says nothing. Roxy is trying to hold in her grin but is failing terribly.
“Oh, and a soda. A red one. Put some whipped cream on it would you?”
As the waitress’s eyebrows go right into her hairline she flees back towards the kitchen. Roxy starts laughing and so do I.
“What’s gotten into you, Helen?”
“You did.”
Roxy blushes and looks down. “Come on. I’m just a wild child. I don’t inspire anyone.”
“But you do.” I grab her hand again—the one not shoveling food into her mouth—and hold it tight. “You do inspire me. From the first moment I saw you, something in me yearned for that freedom.”
“The freedom to get kicked out of your favorite club?”
I giggle as she looks at me coyly from under her lashes.
“That was partly it. The way you just mouthed off and said, too bad. In that situation I would have been practically scraping my head on the floor, begging for forgiveness. You just slammed your wisecracks straight into their faces. You refused to take any shit.”
“Well.” She takes a gulp of her soda. “I could have apologized. I really don’t know who ran into who.”
“But at that moment, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you don’t get stepped on, by anyone, ever.”
“But do you really get stepped on, Helen?”
“All the time.” I look into the distance as I think about my days. “I practically invite it. It’s not like anyone is going out of their way to stomp on me, but I throw myself down in the dirt anyway. It’s easier to submit than stand up for yourself.”
“This is true.” Roxy nods and pulls my attention back to her. “But you can easily take it too far, Helen. There’s a big difference between standing your ground and lashing out. The trouble is, you can’t see it when you’re right in the thick of it.”
I understand this, maybe even better than Roxy does. She may have crossed that line regularly, but I’m the one who spent most of my life staying away from it.