Daisy.

On Tuesday at noon, I find myself sitting at a desk in a tall building in downtown Phoenix. Despite the fact that they told me to be there by eleven, I wasn’t seen until twelve because my editor was in a staff meeting with her superiors.

The hour was filled with cute texts from Dash and blushing and trying to keep my giggles down to a quiet minimum. Eventually though, I did get to go into her office, only to wait another fifteen minutes before she came in. It was nice, with an entire wall made out of glass that overlooked the city, and a nice air conditioner that didn’t make much noise. There was a water cooler in the corner and tiny finger sandwiches on the table.

We sat in a comfortable silence, the kind you share with people who you trust. Somewhat. My boss, a tiny, bird like woman named Sasha, sat in a chair that seemed to swallow her small brown frame whole, legs crossed over each other as she regarded me. She wore her thick black hair in a braid down her back, a soft blue sheer blouse and some jeans. Her sandals sat near the heavy oak door.

More silence.

I was kind of tired. Still. Last night was kind of, if not entirely, ridiculous and completely out of left field. I still didn’t know where I stood with Dash, but at least I knew that it wasn’t going away as easily as I thought it would. He was too sweet and kind and just good. He was good to me, and maybe he’d be good for me. If I’d let him, that is. As badly as I wanted to, I didn’t know if I’d be able to loosen up enough to let him in.

Maybe I could try and let things run their natural course without getting in the way. I resolved to take Marina’s advice and do things the way I felt like instead of the way I thought they should have been. I was going to end up sabotaging myself.

“Where do you want to go, Daisy?” Sasha asked, distracting me from my thoughts, something I was thankful for.

“Excuse me?” I asked, wiping the crumbs off of my face with my shirt sleeve.

“Well?”

“Um…” I frowned a little, my eyebrows knitting together. “Isn’t that up to you?”

“The readers want something different, and nothing’s more different than you.” I wasn’t sure if I should have been flattered or insulted, but seeing as she grinned, I took it as a compliment.

“Oh.”

“So?”

“I-I don’t know,” I said, laughing a little in surprise. I couldn’t think of anywhere to go.

“Can you let me know by Friday? I kind of need to know so I can start planning our next issue.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I murmured, still kind of surprised.

“I’d like you to, you know, keep it kind of sappy and sweet. It’s for the February issue, so, you know, make it all romantic and stuff, like for couples?” She sighed. “I know you’re not the most romantic person, but just try, hm? It won’t hurt.” I nodded. Romantic. I could do romantic, right? Late night internet searches were in my future, I could feel it. “By the way, you’ll be going with Derek. I thought it might be nice if you weren’t alone this time, and now you’ll have someone to help you out.” I tried to keep the disdain off my face as I nodded. Unfortunately, she saw it. Her face fell as she watched me fidget with the buttons on the bag on my lap. “What? What’s wrong with Derek?”

“Nothing…”

If you didn’t count the fact that he was useless and annoying and belligerent and rude and touchy-feely and corny and cheesy and just disgusting. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Derek. I was sure that maybe he’d be great at something else, but he was not someone you’d want to travel with. He’d get us kicked out of wherever we went so quickly it would make your head spin. He had a knack for messing things up.

Unfortunately.

“What’s wrong with Derek?” she asked again. I didn’t want to sound rude or mean, but I didn’t know how else to put it, so I avoided the topic altogether.

“Can’t I go with someone else?”

“If you can find someone who wants to go, be my guest. Should I tell Derek?”

“Please.” She smiled shortly, playing with the end of her thick plait with a meditative look on her face before she spoke again.

“I want to hear from you before Friday, okay?” I nodded, standing up as she dialed a number on the phone. “Patch me through to Derek, please.” I shut the door behind me, walking into the hallway with colorful photographs on the walls. I walked down to the elevator, and it wasn’t long before I was walking into the blinding bright sunlight, sunglasses on the bridge of my nose.

I took a cab to the library because I didn’t want to wait in the blistering heat for a bus. It wasn’t because I wanted to see Dash (even though I kind of did) but because I wanted to check out more books and return my old ones. I took off my sunglasses, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the florescent lighting. No one was at the desk, much to my disappointment, so I just slipped them through the slot they had for returning books, sighing. Running a hand through my hair, I walked upstairs, feeling like reading something mysterious.

I saw Dash with a cart of books standing in front of one of the shelves, making a face at the binding of the book in his hands. With a sneaky smile, I crept up behind him, giggling quietly. I jumped on him, putting my hands over his eyes.

“You’d make a horrible spy, Daisy,” he laughed, taking my hands off his eyes. He turned his head and kissed me chastely, wrinkling his nose. “Cute, but not very good.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t want to be a spy anyway,” I said, wrinkling my nose at him. He kissed my nose, laughing.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s not for you,” I huffed, scowling at him playfully. “I’m actually here to get more books.”

“I can help you with that.”

“I’d hope so.” I took his hand and we leaned against the shelves, giggling.

“If you’re looking for non-fiction, check the back,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “Or if you’re looking for thrillers, check the middle,” he said as he pressed his lips to my cheek. “And if you’re looking for romance, you’re in the right place,” he mumbled against my lips, pulling me close.

“You’re so cheesy.”

There was the sound of creaking book cart wheels and hastily he pulled away, face flushed as he turned to his cart. I bit my lip as I watched him, inspecting the shelves with a small smile. I tried not to laugh at his rumpled hair and shirt, biting the inside of my cheek. A chubby old man passed, pushing the cart with a soft huff. He stopped and looked at us for a couple of seconds, squinted at Dash through his thick bifocals, then grunted out a quiet greeting at Dash.

“Hi, Bill.”

Bill didn’t say anything else and instead walked away, groaning as he started pushing the cart again. I looked at him and laughed, covering my mouth.

“We’re so bad at this,” I snickered, fixing his hair.

“You started it.”

“Of course I did.”

“Did you go to the office yet?” I nodded, and he smiled. “And?”

“Dash!” Bill exclaimed, sounding like it was taking up all his energy. “Dash!” He sighed, kissing me quickly.

“Come over tonight and tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” I kissed him quickly, letting him go to tend to Bill. I grabbed a couple more Palahniuk’s and made my way downstairs to the checkout desk. After I checked those out, I took another cab home. I dropped my things at the door and had some cold cake and milk, then grabbed my book, flicked on the fan and sprawled out on my bed. I read Fight Club again as I hung upside down on the edge of the bed, my hair skimming the wooden floor beneath my feet until I got dizzy from all the blood rushing to my head.

I was hungry again, so I made some dumplings and ate them while I watched some afternoon soap operas disinterestedly. I flicked to the movie channel and watched The Wizard of Oz for a while. By the time I finished, it was almost seven. I took a shower and changed into something cozy, a black romper and some Keds and a blue headband. I pulled a jean jacket on as I walked out the door with a tin of cinnamon cookies that I figured he might just like, walking into the sunset.

The sky was wrapped in hazy tangerine oranges and grenadine pinks and deep plum purples with a big red sun in the middle of it all, sinking slowly towards the horizon. It made me feel fuzzy and warm, and seeing Dash behind the door only made me feel even better.

“Hi, buttercup.”

“Hi,” I said with a smile, walking into the living room. I sat down on the couch with him, crossing my legs as I propped my head up. He copied me, opening the tin and pulled out some cookies.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, biting into one.

“It was interesting.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Well, whenever I go in, I usually get like this huge spiel on where I’m going and what I’m supposed to do and how I’m supposed to act and where I’m supposed to be and not be and everything, but today, I walk into the office and Sasha’s all like, oh, well, just go wherever you feel like.” I threw up my hands. “Like it’s just that easy.”

“What’d you say?”

“I told her I had to think about it. I don’t know what to do.”

“You get to go wherever you want, Daisy. Where do you want to go?” he asked, licking the crumbs off his thumbs.

“I don’t know. That’s my problem, Dash. I’ve been almost everywhere.”

“Where haven’t you been?” I frowned.

“What?”

“Well?”

“Um…” I tried to think and laughed, wondering why I hadn’t thought about it before. “You have to promise not to laugh.” He held up a hand, trying to be serious.

“Scouts’ honor, little lady,” he said.

“Dash!”

“I’m not laughing.” He smiled. “I’m all ears.”

“New York City.”

“What?”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously? You’ve never been to New York City? Never?” I shook my head, watching his green eyes widen comically. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been there, honest. I mean, I usually fly out from the airport here to Chicago, and then I take a plane from there to wherever I’m supposed to go. New York City’s never been a part of the picture.”

“Not even as a kid?”

“My parents weren’t the city type,” I said lightly, shaking my head. That didn’t begin to cover it, but I didn’t want to get into it. Not then, not ever, but I had a sinking feeling we’d have to talk about them at some point. Hopefully, that was far off into the future, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it just then. “I’m guessing you really like it?” I asked with half a smile, watching his face light up.

“I used to go there every year during New Years with my family to see the ball drop in Times Square.”

“Yeah?” I brought my knees together, resting my head on top of them as I watched him. “What’s your family like?”

I always liked learning about other people’s families, because I was pretty sure that no two families were alike and I wanted to compare theirs to mine. Or whatever was left of mine, anyway. I wanted to know why people were the way they were, and I thought that nothing could influence you more than your family, be it for better or for worse. For him, though, it seemed like it was for better.

“I have two brothers and three sisters. I’m the youngest,” he admitted sheepishly. “We all get along pretty okay, I guess.” He shoved a hand into his back pocket, wriggling around as he pulled out his wallet. He pulled a folded picture out, laughing a little. There they were—all six of them with their big smiles at a beach. They were all kind of young still, and there he was, all small and cute, building a sandcastle while the rest of them took their picture. “We’re adopted,” he explained after a beat, laughing a little.

“What was it like?”

“Being adopted?” Dash shrugged casually. “We all got along pretty okay. I don’t remember fighting much with anybody. My parents are pretty easy going. My mom’s an engineer. My dad’s an architect. They didn’t bother much and we were always together, you know? I mean, I guess my brothers liked to roughhouse with each other a lot, but I mean, we were just kids, so it wasn’t really a big deal ’cause we grew out of it. We’re all pretty close. My mom—not my birth mom—can’t have kids ’cause she got sick when she was younger and it kind of messed her up. But she really wanted kids, so she started to adopt. I was still a baby when they adopted me, so I always kind of thought of her as my mom, you know? What’s your family like?”

“I don’t know…”

I really didn’t think it was the greatest idea to talk about them, because then he’d do his whole ‘it’s-okay-Daisy’ thing and I wasn’t in the mood for it. It wasn’t okay.

“They can’t be that embarrassing.”

“Oh, they’re not,” I mumbled, laughing uncomfortably. They’re just the world record holders in being so dysfunctional it shouldn’t even be legal. “They’re just, you know, um, complicated.” He raised an eyebrow and I ate a cookie to avoid his prying glance. “These really are good,” I mumbled, laughing humorlessly. I looked over at him. “You’re not letting this go? Okay. Well, my family isn’t as big as yours,” I said, taking a breath. “It was just me and my sister, Valentina, and my parents.”

I spat the parents part because I didn’t think he really deserved the title, because being a father is one thing and being a dad is quite another, because you can father a child just fine but taking care of them and being there for them and treating them right is a whole other ball game. Don’t even get me started on my mother, a sniveling wailing mess who couldn’t function without a fix or a shot and didn’t think it was her responsibility to take care of her children, and would slap whoever dared to question her abilities into the next century.

My parents made Ike and Tina seem normal.

“Where are they?”

“In Missouri with my grandparents,” I lied easily.

How would I know? After I left, I never looked back and I never would. For all I knew, they could be in the middle of Alaska, freezing to death or something. It wouldn’t bother me any, just as long as they were far away from me. I liked the distance. It made me feel safe, but sometimes not knowing where they were put me on edge. If they dug around a little, it wouldn’t be long before they found me and I’d have to uproot again. And I really didn’t want to. I was finally comfortable.

“What are they like?”

“Valentina’s…” I trailed off, unsure how to answer her. God only knew what corner she was strung out on, and with who, and on what. “She’s doing her own thing. Kind of a free spirit, you know?”

“And your parents? What are they like?”

Ignorant and drunk and high and terrible and tyrants and just bad, and they had a thing where they had to throw things as they yelled and take out their frustrations on innocent bystanders like their children. I liked to keep thoughts of them buried deep down inside, half-forgotten and ignored.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” I mumbled, playing with my sleeve. “It’s kind of ugly and I’d rather not get into it.” I licked my thumb, slumping against the arm rest on the couch. They weren’t my favorite conversational topic.

“What’d they do to you, Daisy?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

Let’s not talk about having cigarettes burned out on the back of your knees because your dad felt like sleeping with the barely legal girl next door or being slapped across the face because your mom had a little afternoon romp with the mailman or about being flung across the room like a rag doll because your mom was so wasted that she couldn’t tell the difference between a lamp and her six year old, and let’s skip over the part where your dad tosses you down the stairs with your sister because your teachers at school have been asking questions about those ugly bruises on your arms and legs and on your sister’s cheek.

Thoughts of those days made me feel sick to my stomach.

I usually didn’t talk about my family at all, so I felt kind of ill at ease talking about them with Dash. Most of the people I knew in Phoenix didn’t even know I had family, and if the topic ever came up, I usually found a way to avoid it completely and just brush them under the carpet.

Everyone has skeletons in their closet—Valentina and my parents are mine. I was sure he had his too.

“Where are you from?” I asked, blinking my eyes quickly. He made a face, frowning a little. He didn’t ask anything else about my family, and for that I was glad.

“I’m from Indiana, but I grew up around Anaheim. It was pretty interesting,” he said with an amused smile. He grew up near the sunshine and the salt and spray of the ocean, and I grew up in the middle of nowhere, dark and cold and terrified.

I was almost jealous.

“You’re so far away from home.”

“I wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle.”

“You’re kind of in the wrong place for that,” I joked, laughing.

“I like it here, though. It’s sunny all the time and the people are pretty cool too, and I go to school here.” He slumped up his shoulders.

“Don’t you visit your family?”

“All the time,” he said with an easy grin. “I usually take out a weekend every month or two and take a train to go see them.”

“Isn’t that kind of far?”

“Not really. I usually spend most of the ride asleep.” He grinned cheerily. “Don’t you visit yours?” I shook my head, biting my thumbnail anxiously. I worked hard to keep them out of sight, out of mind, but sometimes they still managed to come up. They didn’t know where I was and all I knew about their whereabouts was that they were somewhere, and I liked it that way. The distance did us good. It made me feel safe, but sometimes I wondered when I’d wake up to my mom or my dad or Valentina pounding down my door for money to get blitzed.

So far, that hadn’t happened, but who said it wasn’t going to? And why on earth would I risk years of being unseen just because I missed them every once in a blue moon? The only person I missed was Valentina but that was because we were really close before she got into the kind of stuff she was involved with, and she was my sister, my flesh and blood. My parents? Not so much. I couldn’t care less about what happened to those two. They were both so messed up that sometimes I thought that maybe they just deserved each other because no one else would put up with all the stuff they put each other through. Maybe.

Was that love?

I doubted it.

“No,” I answered loftily. “We’re a lone wolf kind of family.” I shrugged, pulling my jacket around myself tightly. “We all kind of just do our own thing.”

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me about them, you know?” Dash asked.

“I’m not afraid.” I wasn’t, not of them, because there was nothing to be afraid of—my father was a dying man whose liver was failing, my mother a woman whose kidneys were shutting down, and my sister an empty shell of a girl. What was there to fear? “It’s just the kind of thing you don’t talk about. If I tell you, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You’d be surprised.” I looked at my phone, frowning at the time. “It’s late. I should probably go. Thanks for having me, Dash.” With a small smile, I stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in my clothes, picking up the empty tin. He walked me to the door and I smiled at him, meeting his eyes shyly.

He was driving me crazy and he knew it, but he didn’t care. And I guess I’d be lying if I said I did, because I was a sucker for his looks and touches and whispered sweet nothings and kisses and every little thing he did. I felt okay, maybe even a little better than okay—maybe even normal, like other people my age in a relationship. Or whatever it was. If it was even anything that is, I mused. Did I even care? Did he even care? We could worry about that later, I thought. He tucked my hair behind my ear, cupping my face as he kissed me. I wrapped myself around him, content. It was nice and easy and carefree, like he was, and when I was with him, sometimes I thought that maybe one day I could be carefree too. Maybe. It was dark and balmy outside, the streetlamps flickering quietly as the breeze blew lazily. It was nice.

It only lasted until car headlights blinked at us and a loud car horn went off. I pulled away, startled, looking around.

“Get it, girl!” Marina exclaimed, poking her head out of a silver car window. Sunny sat in the passenger seat, shooting her a look. She looked back at him. “What?” They said some more things to each other that I couldn’t hear and amused, I laughed, looking at him.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, kissing my forehead.

The boy had me hooked.