Cerulean

Edith and I had spent more and more time together, and as the hours we spent increased so did my curiosity. Mark wasn't shy about his feelings toward Edith and every time I brought up the topic she would brush it off with a witty comment or a shake of her head.

"Why doesn't Mark like you?" I'd ask her.

"Why are you so God damned tall, Evan?" She'd answer earning a confused stare from my end. She'd nod, a smile creeping onto her lips. "My point exactly. Now quit asking stupid questions."

She wasn't the type of girl to hide her feelings or say something she didn't mean. She was up front and in your face about everything she did. If she had something to say, she'd say it, and do so with feeling. That was what I both liked and hated about Edith. Sometimes, the truth just hurt.

About a week or so after Aunt Laura informed me about my mother calling, Edith and I were sitting outside of the Subway in the plaza we both worked at. She'd smuggled a turkey sandwich out for the both of us.

"What's been up your ass lately?" she asked, biting into her half of the sandwich.

I looked over at her. "Care to explain your question?"

Edith sighed. "You know.. ever since we went fishing you've been acting all pissed off and uptight about something."

I shrugged, and bit into my sandwich. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Evan."

When I'd first met her, she seemed almost quiet or at least a little withdrawn. Sure, she was friendly, but I never expected Edith to be so... Edith. The more I hung out with her, the more of herself she allowed to step forward. She was who she was. She cursed like a sailor and knew how to make you smile better than a newborn puppy.

"I just have a lot on my mind. Family stuff... I don't want to get into it."

Edith nodded, and took another bite of her sandwich. "Fair enough," she said, and then looked my way. "Just smile more when you're around me, okay? I hate seeing you all depressed and shit."

I laughed. "Fine, I'll try to smile more."

We were quiet while we finished our sandwiches. Edith finished first, as usual. She wasn't the type to eat slowly. She leaned back on her palms and stared out at the parking lot, occasionally glancing in my direction to see how much food I had left. I ate slowly out of habit, my mother had always been afraid I'd choke if my bites were too big. It was funny when she seemed to actually care about my safety.

"Done yet, slow poke?" Edith asked, nudging my shoulder with her open palm.

"Almost."

"You eat like a fucking sloth, you know?"

"Well, at least I can taste my food. You're a fucking pig."

Edith scoffed. "That's a bit uncalled for, Evan."

I shrugged, finishing off my sandwich. "The truth hurts."

We both turned to face each other and Edith smiled, but it still wasn't the one I'd seen when we had gone fishing. I smiled back, as she leaned over and patted me on the back. "There you go. Smile more often. It looks good on you."

"You too. When it's the right time."

Edith cocked her head to the side. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I looked forward and noticed Mark standing in the store window. I held up a finger, telling him I'd be back to work in a minute before returning my attention back to Edith. I grinned once more, and gave her a quick hug before standing up.

"Don't worry about it."

I started walking across the parking lot, turning back around to see Edith with a confused expression lingering on her face. It was rare when I left her like this because, usually, I didn't have much to say that wasn't straight to the point. However, I would make a comment, here and there, that left her dumbfounded.

Sometimes, it was nice to be hard to read. It helped me figure out what it was like to live like Edith.

Inside the store, Mark was standing behind the counter. I walked in through the door and stood in front of him. When he looked up, he shook his head and went back to whatever it was he had been doing. I watched him mark up a sheet of paper with a red pen, jotting down numbers and equations.

"What's up, man?" I asked.

He looked up at me, and sighed. "I could ask you the same question," he said.

"Meaning?'

"You and Edith," he replied. "What's going on with you two? I thought you were just friends."

I nodded. "We are."

Mark nodded towards a box of toilet paper and paper towels and motioned toward the shelves. I took the hint and carried the box over to the right isle. Mark followed. As I stocked the shelves he continued on with the conversation.

"She looks awful comfortable with you, and I can see the way you look at her."

I groaned. "She's the first real friend I've ever had, Mark. I like her, but only in a friendship sort of way. She gets me. She doesn't ask questions and knows when to give me my space. We can talk about anything, and it's always... comfortable."

Mark walked away, but returned soon after with a box of cleaning supplies. "That's nice, but she isn't... she's not the type of girl you think she is. She has... she's different from most girls, you know?"

I stopped what I was doing and turned around to face Mark while he stocked the shelves with Windex and Ajax. "Why don't you like her?"

He paused his movements, then turned his head to make brief eye contact. "I don't not like her, I just don't trust her. I don't like what she's done and how she has chosen to live her life. I think you're a good kid, Evan, and I don't want you to end up regretting some of the decisions you're making."

I cocked my head to the side, eying Mark with what I felt was a look of confusion. "I don't understand," I told him. "Edith is a good person. Sure, she hasn't figured herself out yet, and I feel it's safe to assume she has some problems she doesn't share with everyone, but that doesn't mean she's a bad influence. Everyone has done something they aren't proud of."

Mark stopped stocking the shelves, and ran a hand through his hair. "You barely know the girl. Evan."

I sighed. "I don't think I want to talk about this anymore. I have a lot on my plate right now, I don't need you bitching me out as well. Aunt Laura has been doing enough of that as it is."

Mark nodded. "Okay. I just worry about you sometimes, Evan. I want you to know that I'm here if you ever need to talk to someone."

"Alright," I replied. "I'm going to finish up these shelves."

As Mark left to handle the front counter I couldn't help but to wonder what he meant by everything he had said about Edith. I wondered what she had done to make him so wary about my hanging out with her. It made me want to ask why she found it so difficult to smile like she really meant it.

It brought up a lot of questions that I wasn't sure I'd ever get answered.