Speechless(124)

                God, I could just pull the covers over my head and float back                     into the warm, dreamless sleep I was so rudely interrupted from. Instead I tuck                     my Nelly under my arm and respond.





                im not going 2 wntr frml





                I rub my eyes, trying to wake up, and stretch my arms over my                     head, thinking. Saturday Saturday Saturday. Dad will probably be hanging around                     the house all day in his pajamas. Mom will be slaving at the shop until later                     this afternoon. I didn’t really have any plans today; Asha and I technically                     have the night off, but I figured we’d go hang out at Rosie’s anyway, just to                     have something to do.

                My phone bloops again.





                w/e. i need yarn. plz?





                Sigh. Might as well. I’m too awake to fall back asleep now.





                give me 1 hour.





                When I pick her up, her brother Karthik is out in the front                     yard with some other neighborhood kids, in the midst of a heated snowball fight.                     I know he must be her brother because he has the same black hair and light brown                     skin and big dark eyes. Asha squeezes out the front door. I wave to her, and a                     snowball sails through the air and splats against my windshield. Karthik points                     and laughs.

                Kids these days.

                Asha yells something at him I can’t hear and ducks into the                     car. She has this thick blue-and-white scarf wound around her neck. I bet she                     made it herself. It’s gorgeous.

                “There’s a craft store in the mall,” she tells me as I back out                     of her driveway and onto the street. “I usually go there.”

                I know where the craft store is; I’ve been there plenty of                     times to pick up fabric for my various ill-fated sewing projects. It’s funny to                     realize Asha and I have something in common outside of the diner.

                The mall is crazy busy, of course, since it’s Saturday, and                     there’s nothing else to do in this town. It takes ten minutes just to find an                     open parking spot. Blah. Crowds. They never bothered me before, but when we walk                     through the sliding doors and are met with the swarm of shoppers, my stomach                     crawls.