Her head snapped up, cheeks flushing. Embarrassed. I was surprised, too, but I hid it better. I wasn’t sure if adding anything would make it better or worse, so I just waited. Maybe she would throw me out or book the next flight home.
“No.” A quiet confession left her lips. I realized I was staring at them now. She cleared her throat and looked away, embarrassed by something that she shouldn’t be.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Let me change the question. What—”
“That’s not fair. You got an answer to your rude question. You don’t get another one.”
I smiled. She was now back to being happy and argumentative. “Okay, your turn then.”
“What’s one skill you wish you had?”
“Flying.”
“What about your fear of heights?” she teased.
“I’m not afraid of heights,” I snapped back, but she just laughed.
“I probably wouldn’t beannoyedby heights if I knew I couldn’t fall,” I added.
“I guess that’s true.”
“My turn. Weirdest thing you like.”
Hazel paused, brows furrowing as if she was examining the question itself. Or maybe even deciding if she should trust me with the answer.
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I will promise no such thing.” Another pause.
“I kind of... like open wounds.”Bingo, we have a winner.
“What?”
“I’m not a psychopath. I don’t want to inflict them,” she tried to explain. “I’m just fascinated by how they look when I see one up close.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound psychotic at all,” I said. “So if I, say, break my leg and a bone is sticking out, you’ll check it first for your own curiosity, then call 911?”
She grinned. “I can probably do both at the same time.”
“Smartass. Okay, I’ve got a good one,” I said. “Advice to your younger self.”
She formed a silent O, impressed by the question, to which I mouthedRight?!She needed to think about this one, which was probably why her eyes drifted from the chessboard to the horizon. My heart beat alone in silence for at least a minute, but then, the corner of her mouth lifted.
She took a deep breath, turned to me, and said with an honest smile, “You’re gonna be okay. Cry it out, you definitely should, but you’ll be okay, I promise. It’ll pass. It gets better.”
I looked at her, or more like inside her. Like she was giving me a piece of her soul. It broke my heart a little, that she’d once needed to hear those words. That she still did. But what surprised me unexpectedly was the fact that I wasn’t certain I could say the same to myself. To the child who needed to hear those words.WasI okay?
“Oh, and buy Bitcoin,” she added, earning a chortle from me, and continued. “If you could have a conversation with anyone in the world, living or dead, who would it be?”
Also, a good question. I thought of famous people, inspirations, friends, but right now, none of them seemed good enough.
“I think I’m here. Having it.”
“Oh, please.” She dismissed me again, as if it were an act. “Just save it. Give me a real answer.”
I just stared, confused.
“We’ve established you’re not getting into my pants, so there’s no reason for this,” she laughed and laughed. Atme. She laughed at my attempts to be honest. Hazel looked up, expecting me to joke, smile,something.But I couldn’t move a muscle. I wanted her to know I was serious, that I wasn’t playing with her. Hazel’s smile slowly faded. I leaned in over the board, holding her gaze. Her breath hitched.
