Page 10 of The Art of Us

“Oh, don’t be so extra,” Tinsley said with an eye roll. “We’re only joking.”

Ireland didn’t know how confirming that no such class was taught counted as her being extra. And everyone knew that if you had to say the words “I’m only joking,” then whatever you were saying wasn’t a joke. Seriously. These people.

Mara looked uncomfortable about her friends being the absolute worst and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but she said nothing. Her eyes dropped to the ground, and she didn’t call her friends out for being horrible. In Ireland’s mind, not speaking up in those situations was just as bad as being the verbal abusers.

“Hobo class sounds like it could be fun, though,” Emily said with a smirk.

Ireland narrowed her eyes at the girls. “Not as much fun as the hags and harpies class though, right? I heard you guys are both getting an A in that class. So you’re probably better off where you are.”

Emily and Tinsley exhaled puffs of indignation as Ireland shook her head and kept walking. Who were these girls to her? No one.

Knowing that didn’t stop a hot tear from escaping her eye. Shedidn’t reach up to swipe it away until after she’d rounded the corner and was out of their line of sight, however. She would not give them the satisfaction of knowing that their verbal arrows had struck their mark. She had to pass a few other people on her way to the old animal trail that led to the edge of the woods where she now lived. She tried not to feel self-conscious as those people eyed her pack.Maybe they’re not thinking I look weird,she thought.Maybe they’re thinking I look cool in a quirky kind of way.

Ireland snorted at herself. She was carrying cleaning supplies while wearing rumpled clothes and needing a shower. She didn’t look cool in any kind of way, quirky or otherwise. When she arrived at her restroom, Ireland checked the surrounding area to make sure she was alone. There was no one around except the birds and insects, chirping and chirring cheerily.

She opened the door and surveyed the small space of cobwebs and dirt. Ireland wrinkled her nose in disgust. “If this is home, then it’s time to make it livable.” Determination fueled her words as she spoke out loud to the bathroom. With that, she unbundled the cleaning supplies, stopped up the drain with the rubber plug Janice had loaned her, and filled the sink with water and soap. She started at the top of the bathroom where both dead and alive insects gathered at the window. “Sorry,” she said to the ones that were still moving. I guess it’s time for you to be evicted. But really, you’ll be fine and figure out new accommodations somewhere else.”After all, I did,she finished in her head.

Ireland swept the soap-soaked rag over the area, then shook it outside of the bathroom so the bugs didn’t clog her sink. Unclogging drains had been an activity she’d had to do in the past, but she wasn’t exactly good at it. It would have been so many degrees of glorious to play music on her phone from where it was plugged into the wall by the door, but she didn’t want todraw the attention of anyone who might come along. Anyway, the buzzing from the few flies she’d upset after wiping down where they’d been by the window added a soundtrack of sorts to her work.

Dunking the rag again and again in the soapy water, Ireland scrubbed each surface. With every swipe of the rag, she felt the accumulated dirt give way to her unflinching resolve. Like with cleaning the restroom in the school, it felt good to do the work and see the results of that work. Sweat soaked her neck behind her hair.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as Ireland methodically worked her way through the task. The repetitive motions of cleaning soothed away even the discomfort she’d felt when Mara’s gang had made fun of her.

Once she was done scrubbing the walls, she tightened her grip on the worn handle of the broom and swept everything out the door, then mopped the floor. Finally, she allowed herself to stretch out the kinks in her back and shoulders from being bent over for so long. Then Ireland stood back and gazed over the freshly clean space. It was brighter now that the light could shine in unhindered by the grime and dust that had been on the windows. She felt better about her situation, better than she had since before her dad left. Maybe better than she’d ever felt before.

The chirping bird alarm went off on her phone, reminding her it was time to get ready to meet Kal. It also reminded her that she was going to have to figure out how to pay the coming phone bill, or she would lose that bit of access to the world. Letting out an exasperated growl at that recollection, Ireland washed her hair in the sink and then braided the wet strands so that they were tidy. She wanted to look nice for this dinner. He hadn’t said it was a date, but ... well, she didn’t want to think too hard about why she worried over her image in the mirror.

She gathered all the cleaning supplies together and put them in the corner, then unplugged and pocketed her phone and opened the door. With a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, Ireland glanced over the bathroom once more. It wouldn’t be so bad to sleep here anymore. She wouldn’t have to think about the spiders and bugs. She wouldn’t have to try tonotthink about the yellowed stains on the wall near the toilet. Everything had been sanitized and scrubbed clean. She was almost excited to come back to go to sleep.My home,she thought and let out laugh of triumph. “Take that, Dad.” She could survive without him. Her chest tightened, but she refused to try to quantify the thought as a lie or not.

Ireland stepped out of the restroom and closed it up before turning to the path that led back into town, where she would meet up with Kal. She would get dinner tonight, free and clear, with no sneaking necessary. And she would get to listen to a cool guy sing and play the guitar—a thing she’d found she really enjoyed.

By the time Ireland showed up at Geppetto’s, she felt almost euphoric. She entered through the front door rather than the one at the side. She made eye contact with people rather than skulking around trying to hide her presence. She smiled at Kal, who grinned at her from the stage.

The smell of baking pizza came from the brick oven proudly displayed behind the glass partition separating the kitchen from the dining area. The warm stone tiles and red-checked tablecloths that made up the ambience of Geppetto’s added to her euphoria, but the bigger joy was knowing she wouldn’t have to steal her dinner. She might even be able to take home leftovers to get her through the weekend. She hated how it felt like she was always being bossed around by food. It seemed her every choice was determined by where and how she would begetting her next meal. Staying warm at night was a close second. She was glad the weather would eventually be warming up.

Not that food and shelter hadn’t always been central concerns, but before, she worked through them with her dad, whereas now, the worry belonged to her alone.

“Stop thinking about it,” she whispered to herself and then felt dumb for vocalizing her thoughts out loud. She spent so much time alone that she was starting to pick up some bad habits. People who talked to themselves weren’t exactly mentally stable, were they? She didn’t know.

She stood to the right side of the restaurant near the stone fountain surrounded by indoor plants while she waited for Kal to finish his song—whether it was an original or a cover, she couldn’t tell. She didn’t really know all that much about music. She had a few favorites and listened to them almost exclusively.

The stage was tucked into the far-left corner, likely so the people seated around the opposite corner away from the main dining area could still catch a glimpse of the local musicians if they wanted. Kal’s eyes kept turning to her, and his smile seemed to widen each time until she wasn’t sure how he could sing so clearly through such a wide grin. His voice felt strangely soothing all mingled together with the burbling fountain water and the hum of conversations punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter.

The soft glow from the vintage-style pendant lights gave a cheery, warm sort of glow—the kind that felt welcoming and comfortable all at the same time.

That was how she felt. Welcomed and comfortable.

Yep. That decided it. She had never been so many degrees of gloriously happy as she was at that moment.

Kal sang the last few words of his song with confident, raw emotion. People clapped and cheered. “Thanks, everyone,” hesaid into the antique-looking mic. “We’re going to take a quick dinner break. We appreciate your support.”

He set his guitar on the stand and then came down the two wooden steps to the stone floor of the main room before making his way straight to Ireland. “Hey! You made it! Come meet the band.”

He took her to a table near the front where the other three members of his band were just getting seated. Two large pans of pizza were already on the metal stands at the center of the shiny wood table. The three people she recognized from school but had never talked to looked up at him.

“This is Asha. Our lead guitarist.” Kal pointed to a girl with rosy pink cheeks, flushed from being up on stage. Her entire vibe was like an advertisement for bright and cheerful feelings. Her long blue-green hair, bright blue eyes, and cute, slightly upturned nose made Ireland think of a mermaid.

“And this is Bailey. She’s our drummer.” The girl with short cropped brown hair was also flushed, but she didn’t give off the same kind of happy vibes as Asha. She was more like a neon sign flashing, “Go away.”

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