"Oh." The young girl flapped her shirt a couple of times, then finally dropped it back into place. "Thanks," she mumbled, passing back the bottle.
I pushed up my short sleeve, exposing the inside of my upper arm and the random pale marks hidden there. "Keep it. My cat got declawed a while back."
The girl's fist closed around the bottle but her eyes lingered on the scars. It was obvious they'd been self-inflicted, and those weren't the only battle wounds I'd taken from my bullying in seventh and eighth grade, but they were the ones on the outside. If this girl had already started cutting, that meant she had a whole lot more that were invisible.
"Thanks," the girl said, but before she could leave, I stopped her.
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Uh." From the look on her face, she was thinking about lying.
I smiled at her in understanding. "It's Cats Peak. I just figured it was easier to ask you than have someone curious about why I wanted to know."
"Faith."
"Nice to meet you, Faith. I'm Violet. Crazy as it may sound, kinda nice to know I'm not alone in this town." I dipped my head at the girl's fist. "Our secret, and if you ever need to talk..." I held out a business card. "I really will just listen."
"Why?" Faith asked, taking the card obediently.
"Because sometimes those cats just will not stop and it gets so annoying. When I was fourteen, my grandmother tried to listen, but it wasn't the same. Telling people who know you? That just sucks. They keep trying to help you teach the cat, but those things have a mind of their own. Sometimes, it's just nice to vent about it."
"But no one would ever pick on you."
I shrugged. "That's what everyone says, but they do. I'm too fat, too old, too weird, too 'big-city' or too 'country' for whatever ideal they have in their heads. The problem is that people want me to live to make them happy, and it took me a long time to realize that the only people I owe anything to is myself and my family."
"Yeah." Faith shoved the bottle of liquid bandage into her pants, but her other hand caressed the card. "I dunno if I'll call, though."
"Or text, but you don't have to." I turned back to the mirror. "Always hated it when people tried to tell me what to do."
"Yeah." Faith pushed the card into her back pocket. "Thanks."
I just nodded, and the girl left. I waited a little longer, not wanting the young lady to think she was being stalked, then made my way out. Ashton had chosen a table near the front of the building, but it was busy enough that there weren't many options. Halfway there, I realized that my food had already been delivered. When I slid into my seat, Ashton pointed at my meal.
"That, my dear, looks disgusting."
"And it's loaded with carbs," I agreed. "But I'm splurging, and you are not saying a thing."
"Not if you actually eat it. Now this?" He lifted a piece of catfish. "I need more of this."
I laughed. "Easy. Remember when we used to go fishing at the pond? The fish with the whiskers?" I pointed at his basket. "Yum."
He crammed another bite in his mouth. "Why didn't you tell me that before? I would have spent less time screwing around, and more making dinner!"
"Because you've never cleaned a fish in your life."
"Right." Then he pushed the small paper bag of fried okra at me. "And you can have all of that you want. Don't know what it is, but that's just gross."
I popped one into my mouth and made a face. "Mm, no. Still hate it."
"Good, means it's not just me." He waited for me to take another bite of my sandwich to wash down the taste of okra, then leaned closer. "And so you know, Luke's sitting about five tables behind you."
"What?"
He nodded. "And I didn't say anything, didn't start anything, and have not moved from this table. I am doing my best to be very good, but if you eat another bite of that mush, I won't even complain if you bail on me."
I crammed a massive bite in my mouth and talked around it. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
"Yep, and I know all the tricks to make sure you eat. Go talk to him, sweetie, but I might steal your fries."
