#thedarkslayer

Shaking her head at herself, Faith scans the green. There are a bunch of douchebags playing frisbee, a group of girls gathered at a picnic table with open textbooks they’re very clearly not reading, and about a hundred kids walking to and from class.

With all the hustle and bustle, it makes no sense that Faith’s eyes are drawn to the girl in the full-length skirt that’s huddled by the pay phone. And yet….

She can’t see the girl’s face from where she’s sitting, but it’s clear from the way she’s holding herself that she’s uncomfortable. As Faith watches, she notices how the girl’s shoulders hunch. Like she’s trying to curl in on herself, make herself as small as possible.

Faith gulps. She’s familiar with that particular impulse.

She should look away—it’s clearly a private conversation—but Faith watches as the girl hangs up the phone and turns around. With her face in clear view, she can make out tear tracks on her full cheeks.

And she keeps watching as the girl paces away from the phone and folds herself into a seated position under the big sycamore on the far side of the quad.

Before she thinks too hard about it—her specialty—Faith gets up and gathers her shit. She’s settling against the trunk of the tree moments later, keeping enough distance to be polite but sitting close enough that strangers might see them and suspect they’re together.

She keeps her eyes focused on her fingers as she picks off the remains of her black nail polish, but she can feel the girl’s gaze on her face.

After several seconds, Faith finally looks up.

The girl’s still staring, and upon seeing her face up close, Faith notices three things instantly.

There’s a strand of dark blonde hair stuck to the wetness on her cheek and it looks uncomfortable, but Faith’s sure as hell not gonna be the one to fix that problem for her (no matter how strong the impulse is).

She wants to punch herself in the face for thinking that the girl’s clear, blue eyes are similar to a sky spanning out over a meadow.

Even crying, she has the kindest fucking face Faith’s ever seen.

Caught off guard, Faith says the first stupid thing that comes to her mind. “Yo, you want a stick of gum?”

Then she kinda regrets it because she only has a couple pieces left and there’s not actually room in her budget for an extra pack right now.

“Um, n-no thank you,” the girl says, her smile widening ever-so-slightly.

Except now that she’s turned it down, Faith has the urge to insist she take it.

(What the fuck is wrong with her backward ass brain anyway?)

“Come on. No one wants you to get that dry, mucus, cry taste in your mouth. The gum’ll make you feel better,” she says, pulling her pack out of her pocket.

The girl doesn’t argue, accepting the gift silently.

After an awkward second of stillness and uncertainty, Faith asks, “You a student here?”

The girl’s face clouds. “For now.”

The somber way she says it makes Faith think she knows what the topic of her phone call was about.

“Well I’m not,” she says quickly, extra share-y for some reason. “Came here to watch the people like a certifiable creep.”

The girl blinks a couple times, clearly not sure how to respond to that. Who could blame her?

“I’m Faith, by the way.”

“Tara,” Tara says, holding out her hand.

They shake and then fall silent.

It’s Tara that braves the awkwardness this time. “Y-you’re not creepy, you know.”

Faith turns and cocks an eyebrow at her. “Oh, yeah? I approached a complete stranger and forced gum on her. Sounds pretty creepy to me.”

Tara grins and it’s kinda blinding how beautiful her face is. “You comforted me without knowing me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

Faith frowns down at her lap. “Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I did it more for me than for you.”

Tara tentatively reaches out and grabs Faith’s wrist, her thumb landing on the inside where she’ll be able to feel Faith’s pulse.

The weirdest part is, Faith lets her.

“Maybe that’s lucky for both of us.”

Faith feels kinda itchy all over suddenly, like there’s a warm tingling under her skin that she needs to claw out. But in a good way?

When she lifts her head to look at Tara, she’s watching her with a knowing, open expression, red-rimmed eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Guess we’ll find out,” she says, her voice quiet and lacking her usual bravado.

Tara releases her and nods. “I have a good feeling, anyway.”