Page 58 of Jagged

We ordered on the same ticket. I chose the falafel on a pita with lots of sauces, and Clem chose hers in a hummus bowl with lots of veggies. We helped ourselves to a picnic table off the beaten path and a little away from the crowds, and settled under the shade of the tree beside us.

"The Western Hemlocks here are very tall."

"Huh? What's that?"

"This type of tree." She nodded to our right and I followed the height of it toward the sky.

"It's incredible. I legit know nothing about country life or trees. I've honestly rarely left Seattle unless it was the outskirts. This is very new to me."

"Do you like it?" she asked after a bite of food.

I nodded, allowing myself to focus on the sounds of the rustling leaves and singing cicadas. The scent of lavender carried on nearly every breeze. "Very much. It's comforting here. Though I'm not sure it's the atmosphere or the company."

Clem smiled and offered me a fork full of her lunch. "Try."

I accepted without fuss and smiled at the rich flavors of the falafel and cucumber mixed with hummus. "Very good. Want a messy bite?" I held up the pita to her and she nodded. As she'd done to me, I held it to her, and she tore a dainty bite from the wrap.

"Wow, that's really good. I like the sauce."

"Me too. Want to trade halfway through?" I grinned and motioned between our plates.

"Absolutely." Clem shimmied in her chair in a muted excitement that I didn't expect. It made me wonder how much of herself she kept a lid on, mainly because I felt like I was keeping myself tethered just the same.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It's been great so far."

"You said you've been camping before but never left the city?" she asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

"Well, yes and no." I swallowed the gulp of my food while thinking about my response. "I've been camping in a wooded area, but not in the woods."

Her brow furrowed with confusion, and I noted the tension in her expression that followed. "What do you mean?"

"Sorry. I'm being evasive by accident." I drew in a slow breath. "When I was younger, I was homeless for a while and lived in an encampment in the city. When they gentrified the area, they made us move so we took up residence in one of the state parks right on the edge of Seattle. I wasn't there long."

"Oh." She set down her fork and leaned forward on her elbows. "I'm sorry to hear that happened to you."

"It's okay. I'm good now." I nodded and now found it a little more difficult to eat.

"What happened for you to end up homeless?"

"Um…" Anxiety flooded me, turning my fingers and toes cold as the tingles of it itched my shoulders. If I told her, would I freak her out and send her running? Probably, but she'd find out anyway eventually. Might as well do it before I get too attached. "Remember how I told you that my parents were in the Army and were deployed a few times overseas?

She nodded and so I continued.

"Well, they met when they were in the same unit and had me. They never left the same unit. Not sure how that was allowed, but it was. They got deployed together and died in the war. My grandma mostly raised me."

"Were you close with your grandma?" Clem didn't offer weird condolences or say anything strange. The empathy in her expression felt like more than enough.

"Very. She taught me a lot of creative things. Painting, drawing, knitting, crochet. We went to church every Sunday." I scrunched my nose at the thought of it. "It was fine then because it was before I knew anything. We baked and cooked together all the time. She was the best."

Clem's smile mirrored mine when I shared the fond memories. "Can you cook?"

"If I tried." I chuckled and nibbled on a cucumber while talking. "She died when I was twelve and I ended up in foster care. That's when things got crazy. It was fine for a little while, but then I got with a family that treated me like shit, so I ran away when I was fourteen. The streets were forgiving. Welcoming at times. Eventually, they put me in a group home. I didn't mind that as much because no one really cared what I did. I would come and go at night."

"Is that when you started making street art?"

"Yeah…" I paused my story there, however, and let Clem have her reactions.

"What was your first piece?"

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