Page 8 of Solitude

It’s a change of pace from two years ago when no one bothered to know me, I suppose. I’m not fully sure when the change happened. One day I woke up, and Betty Rigby flagged me down to fix a button on my uniform shirt. From there it spiraled until suddenly I had a part-time job with Betty’s granddaughter, a platinum membershipcard to Edith’s bookstore (which let me just tell you the membership has no perks), and Cole Fletcher calling me kid and offering me a ride home from school so I didn’t have to walk.

Instead of being the girl everyone avoids, I’ve become…something else. Just wholesome and good and I’ve been fine with that for the most part.

My wish came true. I’ve become a part of something for once.

Just beginning to wonder if I should’ve been a bit more specific with my wish after all.

I cross my legs, mimicking the way Honey sits, but it feels off when I do it. I’m envious of her. Of her long, perfect hair. Of her smooth, flawless skin. Of her larger than life presence. I’m envious of the way she holds herself in high regard like she’s a woman deserving of being looked at, appreciated, and adored.

I’m not a kid. As of today, I’m officially an adult.

I wish I was lucky enough to say I’ll be away at college in a couple months. Far away from Magnolia Hollow and the box I shove myself into while I’m here and what it symbolizes for me.

Solitude.

Because even though I’ve managed to worm my way into the community here, I still come home to an empty house, eat simple dinners alone, and shut myself in my room until it’s so late my eyelids won’t blink open again.

“We’re going to wrap it up here today, guys,” Cole says, looking down at the watch on his wrist, and I shakemy head to clear away my rampant thoughts. “Remember George leaves on a big fishing trip Saturday, so let’s make sure we give him a good send off.”

George perks up at that and grins at the group, showcasing the missing teeth in his mouth. Gretchen pats his shoulder and wishes him luck on his trip. I reckon even she can see how lonely George feels at times.

Cole gestures toward me, and I’m already shaking my head, eyes widening as I bolt to my feet to… I’m not sure. Tackle him to the floor and slap my little hand over his big, stupid mouth? “Don’t forget to wish Winnie a happy birthday on your way out.”

“Cole!”

I don’t even make it two feet before Mrs. Betty has me wrapped up in her arms, nose full of that old lady scent–one dollar powder from the bottom shelf at Mitzy’s Market and moth balls.

I glare at him over her shoulder.

He shoots me two thumbs up and a goofy grin.

Maybe he is an asshole…

Honey is out of the door before anyone can stop her, and I wish I had the guts to just run out of the door. Unfortunately, after I escape Mrs. Betty’s hug, Gretchen wraps me up in her arms. Everyone follows suit after that, and I make a mental note to kill Cole in his sleep later.

I’m drafting up the most elaborate home invasion-slash-murder plans ever in my head when he saunters over to me.

Beau, Cole’s best friend since childhood, helps Mrs.Betty put away all of the little finger foods she’d brought at the row of tables set up along the far wall. He’s snapping lids on containers faster than she can speak and stacking them in her bag with amazing efficiency.

“Help me with these chairs, kid?”

My eyes flick to Cole’s, and I shoot him a dirty look. “I regret saying you weren’t an asshole earlier.”

He chuckles, grabbing four chairs. “You wound me, Win. Might be the first time I’ve heard you cuss.”

“Well, it won’t be the last time at this rate,” I tell him menacingly as I grab a chair and push it closed. “Sleep with one eye open tonight, Officer.”

“Hey,” he pouts, “it’s Detective.”

Rolling my eyes, I drop the chair onto the pallet then grab another one and let it clatter on top of the others.

Cole grabs another four chairs and drops them easily onto the pallet with minimal noise, and I purposely let my one chair clang right after him.

“Why do you come to these meetings, Winnie?”

I look at him then grab another chair. “Haven’t we already talked about this?”

I can practicallyhearthe way he cocks an eyebrow at me without even looking at him. He replies easily, “Let’s talk about it again.”

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