“Dania, enough!” I said, gritting my teeth. Flynn’s normally placid face looked almost panicked. He hated being touched. Everyone that had ever interacted with him knew that. And Dania most definitely knew that. What was she trying to do? This seemed so juvenile and beneath someone who was five months pregnant.
“Come sit with us, Flynn. Let’s talk for a while,” she said, her voice smooth as honey.
Flynn shook his head and took a step backwards.
“You don’t like me. I don’t like you. I won’t sit with you,” he said firmly and I was sort of proud of him. He was standing up for himself in a way he never had as a teenager.
Life had clearly taught him some harsh lessons. And I was sure that Dania and I had been his teachers.
Dania frowned, taken aback by his blunt candor. She looked at me and I shrugged. Then she laughed, a high trilling sound.
“Well you don’t need to be a dick about it,” she huffed. But I knew she wasn’t finished. Dania didn’t take rejection well. And she took public embarrassment even worse.
“Hold on, you have a piece of lint,” she said and reached up to swipe her hands across his face in a long, exaggerated gesture. Flynn flipped out. He lunged backwards so quickly he tripped over his feet and crashed into a table behind him.
There was a collective gasp but no one tried to help him. Dania cackled in delight, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes bright with malicious glee. Flynn sat up, looking shaken. His eyes were wide and I could see his hands trembling.
“Stop laughing at me!” he yelled, which only made Dania laugh louder. His face was flushed red and tears dripped down his cheeks.
For a moment I stood there frozen. Once upon a time I would have egged Dania on. Adding to his abject humiliation.
Not this time.
“You heard him, Dania, shut the fuck up.” Without waiting for any more of her hate, I leaned down on my haunches in front of Flynn. I didn’t reach out a hand to help him up. I didn’t invade his personal space. I kept a healthy distance between us but I did meet his eyes.
And he didn’t look away.
“Are you all right?” I asked him, folding my arms over my knees as I regarded him.
Flynn nodded and slowly got to his feet, brushing off his pants in rapid, frantic strokes.
“I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry,” he told Emily, the waitress as he picked up napkins and silverware and placed them back on the table.
And still no one said anything. They stared at him like he was an animal at the zoo and it was pissing me off. I knew what it felt like to be looked at and gossiped about. Our shared role as town outcasts had created an affinity between us long ago and I felt it again now.
I heard the bell above the diner door ring and I glanced out the window to see Dania rushing down the sidewalk. I could tell by her hurried gait that she was fuming. I knew I’d pay for her public mortification later.
I was the one with the attachment diagnosis. It claimed I possessed an inability to empathize with others. Yet it was times like this that I thought perhaps it was Dania who should have been given that particular label. Because she’d never understood how much her words and actions hurt others. She’d never been able to identify how harmful her behavior was.
She was incapable of seeing it.
But I saw it.
“Let me help you,” I said softly, bending over to retrieve the menus scattered across the floor. Slowly the conversations around us resumed, though I still felt everyone’s eyes on us as we cleaned up.
“She’s still mean,” Flynn muttered as he took the pile of menus that I handed him and placed them back on the table.
It was on the tip of my tongue to defend her. It’s what I had always done. It’s what I did despite how often she didn’t deserve it.
But what came out of my mouth wasn’t a vehement defense. It was sad agreement.
“You’re right. She is.”
Flynn nodded, straightening the knives and forks into perfect lines. I didn’t think anyone that worked at Ma’s took such care and attention to their tasks. When Flynn was finished it was the best laid table in the diner.
“You’re food’s ready,” Emily said from behind the counter, pointing back to the booth where Dania and I had been sitting. I had lost my appetite.
“Can I box it up to go?” I asked. I didn’t want to waste the food. A lifetime of scrimping and scavenging wouldn’t let me waste it. I pulled out my wallet and handed Emily some cash.
