Activity

Valencia:

“Hi! I hope I didn’t take anyone’s seat. Do any of you know where the waiter is? I’m thirsty.”  I look down at a red haired boy in the strangest clothes I’d ever seen.  I tilt my head, then smile halfheartedly.

“I don’t know about a waiter, but I might have some water.”  I root through my messenger bag, shoving aside pens and snacks until I grasp the bronze flask.  I unscrew the lid and squint inside – it’s only about halfway full, so I’ll have to use it sparingly.

I scan the crowd for Kit’s cotton candy hair.  He’s got a flask too, but I’m pretty sure it’s filled with something a bit stronger.  I wonder if he’s got any water…

I’m pretty sure he left it in the car, anyways.

I sigh, and grab the wine glass near the boy’s plate, filling it about a third of the way.

“Here you go.  Don’t spill it, ’cause I don’t have much left.”  That sounded kind of blunt.  I smile down at him as he takes the glass, a worthless attempt to smooth the edge off that statement.  I shift uncomfortably, mind racing in a desperate search for some other solution – more hollow small talk to plaster over the apparent gap in my etiquette.

“What’s your name?”  I tilt the inflection in a cheerful, inquisitive question.  It always feels so plastic and artificial, but I think it makes people like me more.  Regardless of what I feel, I hope it made him feel more welcomed.

He is just a kid, after all, and he’s all alone here.  And it’s not like I really have anyone to talk to either – I’m not about to wade through that sea of strangers just to bicker with Kit again.

@inkhorn I’m interested to see Conroy’s response!