Page 126 of Steps

I feel excited to leave Baltimore. Almost as ifwe’re leaving behind the reality of our situation.

It takes little over half an hour for Varen toreach the capital city. Going for a stroll in Quiet Waters Park is first on ourlist.

Only a few couples and families with dogs are out.We bask in the gorgeous scenery as we amble along the concrete footpaths until reachingan overlook of the river. On our way back, Varen buys ice-cream on cones:chocolate for him and pistachio for me.

“You’re always switching it up,” he jokes.

I chortle. “Yep. I don’t have a favorite.”

We walk at a slow pace while talking and enjoyingour ice-creams, stopping every so often.

“Um, are you going to stay in Baltimore?” I findmyself asking him.

He scoffs. “I’m eighteen, Toya. I might think thatnow, but I have no idea how I’ll feel when I’m twenty-five.”

“Right.” I drift off into thought. I’ve dreamedabout living in California. Never Baltimore really. Maybe that’s why I mailedan application to UCLA, just to see if I’ll get accepted. But not to leave.Right?

Varen bumps my arm. “Stop thinking so hard, you’llget a migraine.”

I eyeball him.

He lowers to press a quick kiss on my cheek. “Theonly thing I’m sure of is that I love you.”

This pulls a smile out of me.

Leaving the park, our next stop is the Naval AcademyMuseum where we’re both left in awe of all the artifacts and model ships.

Then we stop at a flea market before heading back.

Varen purchases an oil painting from a localartist. As we resume walking, a chocolate-toned woman with beautiful, long,gray dreadlocks urges me to come over and check out her jewelry.

“Ooh, this is pretty,” I gush over the purple seaglasses on a silver charm bracelet.

“I made all these,” the woman says proudly, wavingabout her display.

“That’s really cool. The designs are beautiful.”

Varen stands beside me looking through thenecklaces.

The woman smiles at him. “Pick something for yourlovely girlfriend.” Hearing this stranger refer to me as his girlfriend causesmy tummy to do flip-flops. Aside from Kenya, no one close to us has regardedour relationship in such a cute way, except with disgust.

Glancing at me, Varen half-smiles as his blue eyesstudy my face. “Purple is the color you gravitate to the most. That I’venoticed doesn’t change.”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite color.”

He nods at the bracelet. “Like that one?”

I admire the stones while gently tracing them withmy fingers. “I do.” Lowering my voice, I whisper to him, “It’s a tad pricey,though.”

The price tag states one hundred and fiftydollars. The bracelet definitely seems worth it. She probably puts so much timeand effort into making all her jewelry, and I doubt she negotiates.

I set it back on display. “Thank you, have a goodday.” I motion for us to keep walking. Varen stops me.

“Actually, we’ll take this one,” he says to her,reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I whisper, feeling bad. Hehas expenses like utilities, rent, and online classes. A bracelet can wait.

He snorts. “It’s okay, babe.” Then hands the moneyto the woman.

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