“One Special Please,” she asked the
buggy owner clearly, being careful to inflect just the right tone, at
just the right volume. Then she couldn't be accused of flirtacious or
overly-American behavior.
“One dollar.” The buggy owner did
not look at her as he requested his payment, and she was grateful for
that. She dug deep into her pocket and pulled out a single dollar.
All she had.
She and her friends hadn't been out
that long that wintery Saturday evening, although calling them
“friends” required quite the stretch of definition. They were
merely acquaintances, and she didn't even like them. “No matter,”
she thought. She was glad there were people who didn't mind being
around her. They'd all played pool, and she was pretty good at it.
Holding the stick and lining up shots was a fairly safe activity,
because it was easy to not meet anyone's eyes while doing it. As long
as she looked and spoke only to women, everything would be fine.
She'd had a Special once before. She'd
never tried anything else because the Special was the cheapest thing
they had, and she had not much to spare. She waited while the bagel
was grilled in the freezing air, slowly moving her feet up and down,
and hugging her arms tight around her body. Her jacket was just
that—a jacket, not a coat—but she didn't know this. She'd always
been cold, unable to afford an actual winter coat that could defend
the girl in sub-zero weather. Being cold was normal, and she hated
it.
She didn't wear a hat. This would
destroy her curls, and therefore, some of her looks. She wasn't
beautiful, but had been called “pretty” a few times, and
“beautiful” a few years back by a boy who was in love with her.
He'd moved away, but had written letters and had come back to see her
a few times. Once, he wanted to know what she would do with herself;
would she marry the boy she was now dating? “Yes,” she lied. She was
angry with him for dating another girl, yet she knew this lie would
only hurt her. He'd clearly stated that if she answered “yes” he
would never come back and never contact her. He'd been a handsome
Italian-looking boy, with black curly hair, black eyes, and olive
skin. His twin brother had pale skin, though, and their older brother
had blond curly hair with blue eyes. Even though they'd talked for
hours on the phone over a period of years, she never thought to ask
him about his heritage. And true to his word, she never saw nor
heard from him again.
The bagel owner hand her the Special.
It was so hot it nearly burned her freezing hands, but she was
thankful for the heat. She walked with a few of her friends across
the street to a large steam grate that would help warm her body.
After peeling back the foil from the bagel, she bit into the creamy
goodness of the treat, with the copious cream cheese and strawberry
jam dripping out between the two layers of bread. She tried to not
think about the beating that would later happen at the hands of her
current very-handsome boyfriend. Even though she'd been careful to
not look up, he would have surely seen a slip where she was making
eyes with another man. It happened a lot. Some day, he would see that
she was a good person and deserved better treatment; she was sure of
it. She was happy that he wanted to be around her.
But for now, as she took another bite
of the Special, life was good, warm, and delicious.
