Wrists

“I’ve always wanted go to some place like Mexico and help out,” May said as she dipped a piece of toasted bread into her warm chocolate milk. She raised her eyes thoughtfully, using her free hand to brush some blond hair from her heart-shaped face. “Y’know, like a soup kitchen. They’re so many poor kids out there that need help. My help. And I’m ready to take that on.” She eyed me from across the table, waiting for a response.

I fiddled with the plastic cup on top of my coffee, examined the empty college coffee shop, and then turned to look at her again. “It sounds nice,” I mumbled. “Are you ever going to actually go?”

May sighed softly, took a delicate bite from the bread, and chewed it carefully. “Hmm. If my parents even have the money to send me out there. They’ll probably throw a fit if I ask them to pay.” She took another delicate bite. “But I don’t have any money to pay for it myself, y’know?” She lowered her eyes to my arms. “I could be your soup kitchen; does your family ever feed you?”

I was ready to snap at her until I realized Elijah most likely had told her about... my problems. So I gave her the benefit of the doubt and shook my head, muttering, “Yeah. A lot. I just get sick constantly.”

May hummed thoughtfully, finishing off her toasted bread. “I could tell you’re not much of an eater. Back from the sushi place that one time.” She let out another soft sigh. “I wish I was more like you. I eat like a pig. I’m gonna gain so much weight.” She reached down to pinch the fat that wasn’t even there around her stomach.

“You’re not fat,” I took a long sip of my coffee to prevent showing my disgust in her statement. After what I’ve been going through for the past years, it always bothered me when somebody talked about weight, and getting fat, and trying to lose weight. I heard enough of it from the demons already—I didn’t want to hear anymore.

May giggled and touched my arm. “Since you’re a boy, I’m going to take that as a big compliment. So. Thank you.” She giggled again, and then gulped down the rest of her chocolate milk. “I gotta get going to class or else I’m going to be late again. She hates when I’m late.”

I watched her stand up, smooth down her wide-legged dress pants, and pick up her cup and purse. “See you later, maybe?” Her eyes glistened with hope. I couldn’t bare the thought of turning her down.

“Sure.” I said.

“Okay,” she gave me a warm smile, and then rushed off.

I watched her go, slightly envious. May was so carefree and happy.

I don’t even remember what that feels like anymore.