Page 12 of Fruit
“What the fuck is your problem? You some kind of pedo?”
“Jesus! That’s a bit much.”
“Stop following me, then.”
“I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I already told you, I’mfine,” he growls, closing one eye as blood drips into it.
“Clearly,” I say, pointing at his eye. Snapback snarls at me. “What’s your name?” I ask.
“None of your damn business.”
“Mine’s Iva.”
“Nobody cares. Leave me alone.”
“Just—let me walk you home,” I say. I know I’m pushing, but I get the feeling he’s about to do something stupid.
“I ain’t going home.”
“Where are you going, then?”
“None of your business.”
“Come on. This is the easiest way to get rid of me.”
“Fucking—fine,” Snapback spits out before turning and walking away. I trail behind him. This isn’t creepy, right? It’s adult supervision.
We walk in silence for a while.
“I like your backpack,” I say eventually. The bag is black, but it’s covered in hand-drawn graffiti.
Snapback snorts, glancing at me with his good eye. I grab a packet of tissues from my bag and pull a few out.
“Here,” I say, offering them out to him. He looks at them for a moment before grabbing them and pressing them to the cut over his eye.
“Thanks,” he says begrudgingly.
“Did you do the art on your bag?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he grunts after a pause.
“It’s really good,” I say truthfully.
“Whatever.”
“Did you use cloth markers?”
“Yeah.”
“You like art?”
“Are you gonna ask me a million questions?”
“No. Just a few hundred.”
“Oh, great,” he says sarcastically, but there’s a slight smile on his lips, the first I’ve seen on him. I count it as a victory.
