Page 88 of Done Waiting

“That’s not true,” she squeaked, her eyes moving to mine, then glaring at him. “He wanted to get on the swing after I said I was getting on it. I ran ahead, trying to beat him, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me back.” She rubbed her head before she crossed her arms over her chest, her big honey eyes pleading with me to believe her.

“Pumpkin. Are you okay?” A man came running over, his hair a shade darker than hers. He squatted down, studying her with the same big, honey-colored eyes as the little girl.

That must be her father.

She nodded. “Yes, now that this nice boy is here.” She gives me a smile before turning and pointing at the boy who caused her pain. “Jacob pulled my hair because I wanted to get on the swing. He decided he wanted to swingafterI said I was going to.”

“Jacob, that isn’t nice to pull a little girl’s hair to keep her off the swings,” The man said, his voice firm but gentle. He didn’t scream like my dad, making me like him.

“Sorry.” Jacob looked at the ground, his chin on his chest.

“Do you think you can play nice, Jacob? If not, you won’t be able to play with her anymore,” the man says to the boy.

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Okay.” He pinches the little girl’s cheeks gently, then tickles her. “Do you want to go swing now, pumpkin?”

She giggled, squirming as he tickled her, then nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay. Go have fun.” The man looked over at me, ruffling my hair with his hand. “Thanks for intervening. That was nice of you. You’re a good kid.”

Pride made my chest swell. It’d been a long time since I’d been complimented, other than by The Brandt’s, Jason’s parents. But I’d known them since I was five, so they didn’t count.

I watched the man walk away.I wish I had a dad like him.I rubbed a hand over my chest, my heart hurting.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Jacob hissed to pumpkin. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at the evil smirk on his lips.

“No, she isn’t.” I leaned close to Jacob, ensuring no one else could hear me. “Or you’ll deal with me. And you don’t want that,Jacob.I can promise you that. I’ll make your time here a living hell if you even think about touching her.”

Jacob’s eyes widen, his face pale once again, before he runs off, heading to the opposite end of the playground. I watch him as he gets on the merry-go-round, his eyes locking with mine before he ducks his head, averting his gaze.

Pumpkin’s small hand wraps around mine. “Thank you, dark eyes. Jacob’s mean to me.” Her lower lip trembles. “I don’t know why he hates me so much.”

I squat down in front of her, still holding her small, warm hand. “Some boys are mean to little girls because theyfeel threatened by them. You must be better than he is at something.”

Her face lights up, her brown eyes animated. “I’ve been taking dance lessons at Annabelle Martin’s dance studio. He’s one of the male dancers. I got chosen for a lead role for the upcoming recital and he’s been mad about it ever since. He says I’m too young.”

I laughed. “Sounds like he’s jealous because you’re a better dancer than he is.”

Her smile grows larger. “You’re nice, dark eyes. One of the nicest boys I’ve met since Dad started bringing me here.” She looks down at her feet, then back at me. “Thank you for saving me before my dad came over. Jacob is good at pinching me and leaving bruises.”

A frown is on my lips as anger rolls through me at the thought of him hurting her. “How about you swing beside me? Jacob won’t bother you if I’m around.”

“Really?” Her eyes are huge as she releases my hand, clapping excitedly. “Okay.”

With a huge smile on my face, I stand. Holding her hand, we walk over to the swings. She climbs on one and starts swinging, biting her lip in concentration. “I know I can make this thing go higher,” she mutters.

“Here. Let me push you and get you started. Then I’ll give you some pointers.” Standing behind her, I push her, and she giggles from excitement as she goes higher, kicking her legs delightedly. I laugh and give her pointers because she’s slowing herself down and swinging erratically from how she moves her legs.

“That’s it, pumpkin,” I say as she gets the hang of it. “I’m gonna get on the swing beside you, okay?”

She nods, laughing. “I’m going to swing as high as you.”

“Oh yeah,” I chuckle. I know that isn’t possible, but I don’t voice it, fearing she’ll try it and end up falling off the swing and getting hurt. Instead, I don’t swing nearly as high as I was, letting her go higher.

We spent the rest of the day playing together. There was just something about this sweet little girl that made me forget about all my problems at home. And she told every kid who glanced at us that I was her “dark hero.” It made me feel so good inside and kids patted me on the back, talking and laughing with me.

I’d never fit in with others before, often being a loner. Jason and Abigail were my only friends. But I only hung around Abigail when I was with Jason.

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