sidewalks, running away from the streets we knew
Saturday morning came quickly, but it didn't feel like a Saturday to Beth. Then again, none of the days had been feeling the way they were supposed to lately. Not even her birthday had felt the same this year. Everything had been different since springtime.
She barely slept through the night. That was a given, though, considering she had to wait up and fight off sleep so she wouldn't miss the other two phone calls. She'd dozed off here and there before the second call came around 4 a.m., but then she was lying wide awake, waiting patiently, when the third call came sometime near 6:30. Now she was lying in bed, no longer sleepy, staring at the piece of paper that sat on her nightstand.
Once she'd gotten the information from all three phone calls, the note read:
Sunday 9/3
stand on the NW corner of W 134th & Malcolm X Blvd
8:45 PM, look for 5 flashes at 8:43
She'd spent another half hour huddled under the covers, phone gripped in her hand as she looked up the exact address on the GPS and mapped out her route. She almost wanted to ask Daryl for a ride, since he wouldn't be working, but then she told herself that would be too risky and would pose too many questions. He'd probably be busy anyway. He always seemed to be busy.
The three calls had ended up being like puzzle pieces that she had to put together just for the chance to meet a stranger. She wasn't sure what would happen or what kind of place she'd be going to, but she knew she had to be ready for anything. It set her nerves on end to have no idea what she was walking into. She guessed she'd have to look for flashes of light coming from wherever she was supposed to meet the mystery person, and then get there in two minutes to meet said person. She wondered how dangerous the neighborhood would be and if she should bring the gun and have it ready to use. But it wouldn't make her situation any better if she actually ended up having to use it, even if it was in self-defense.
The apartment remained silent well past 7 a.m. This was surprising because Beth had begun to get used to Daryl and Malachi's weekday schedule. She had to remind herself that it was the weekend, and this would mean a couple days of sharing the apartment with the boys during the day. Maybe she could hide in her room and catch up on the sleep she'd missed last night? But knowing her body, that would only mean she'd be up all night and unable to sleep, and then she'd be exhausted come Sunday.
She felt a headache coming on and decided to get up, dressing in the clothes she'd barely worn the day before and running a brush through her short hair to tidy it up. She hadn't put on her shoes in about two days, but she was using up the few pairs of socks she owned. She opened her bedroom door to find an undisturbed, sunlit apartment.
It was cloudy outside, so the sun coming through the windows wasn't quite as bright as usual. One of the windows was still open a crack and Beth could smell rain in the air, but it was fleeting. The sky looked like it could either darken and open up to a thunderstorm, or it could clear up in a couple hours and be sunny and clear once again. Only time would tell.
Beth dug around the cabinets and found the coffee, figuring out Daryl's coffeemaker within seconds. Moments later, the smell of brewing coffee was drifting through the kitchen and into the hall, and she was pulling out pans and dishes as well as eggs and packaged bacon. The prospect of a real, home-cooked breakfast excited her. She missed Irma's cooking more than she'd thought she would.
To her delight, Daryl had stocked up on all kinds of necessary food ingredients – including pancake and waffle mix. She started to marvel at the fact that he had managed to carry such a large haul up so many stairs. Her mouth was already watering as she dug around in a lower cabinet and pulled out a griddle pan – a part of her was amazed that Daryl, the single dad, owned a griddle pan. She began mixing ingredients and setting out plates, her hands busy but her ears perked for any sounds. It was only a matter of time before the boys would smell the coffee and bacon and crawl out of their beds.
Despite her nerves about the mysterious meeting coming up, Beth found that her appetite was back. She felt like she was starving, and she kept popping little bits of bacon into her mouth as she cooked. The apartment was full of breakfast smells at this point, a mixture of pancakes, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, toast, and coffee.
She was just scooping up the third perfect pancake she'd cooked when she heard the sound of the bathroom door closing in the hall. And just as she expected, Daryl was entering the kitchen soon after. Beth didn't turn and face him at first, indulged in her cooking. She'd always been a perfectionist, especially when it came to food. Daryl was silent, his bare feet padding lightly on the tile as he approached and looked around at the array of cooking food. He seemed to spot what he wanted quickly, because he began helping himself to a mug of the coffee that was barely finished brewing.
Beth smirked to herself, but didn't say anything. She wasn't sure if his mood had changed after getting a night of sleep or not, so she figured she would let him speak first, if at all. She continued cooking in silence, but when she glanced over, she saw that he hadn't been pouring a mug for himself. He'd poured it and set it down for her, within arm's reach. As she realized this, he was finishing pouring his own mug and turning to walk away, sipping tentatively.
"Thanks," she said, a little louder than normal because she wasn't sure if he could hear her over the sizzling of the bacon. The sounds from the city were starting to get a bit noisier, too, as they drifted into the open window.
Daryl grunted in reply and continued sipping from his mug, then disappeared around the corner and down the hall.
Beth sipped her coffee and continued stacking the plate full of pancakes. Half a mug of coffee later and she had three plates laid out with an array of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and toast, as well as more than enough pancakes to go around. She set the table, walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table as she laid out butter and syrup and silverware. During one of her trips, she caught a brief flash of Malachi as he ran from the bathroom to the bedroom to join his father. She sat down at the table and began to eat, assuming they'd be joining her any minute.
She'd refilled her mug and finished it, as well as eaten most of her breakfast by the time the boys entered the room. Daryl appeared to be a little frustrated, and Beth had heard him raising his voice a couple times in the bedroom. Malachi looked upset, plopping into his seat and starting in on his meal without a word. She could only guess that he was having an attitude this morning and giving his dad a hard time, so she kept her mouth shut and stood from her chair, picking up her plate and mug. When she turned around, she realized that Daryl looked drastically different from how she'd seen him the last few days. His clothes were clean, free of grease and dirt, and his hair showed no signs of a helmet shape. He had a bit of stubble coming in on his cheeks and jawline, but he hadn't bothered with it. And surprisingly, he was wearing shorts. They hung past his knees but exposed his shins and calves, and instead of boots, he was wearing an old pair of Nikes. From the looks of it, Beth guessed that he owned exclusively black socks. His baggy T-shirt appeared to have had sleeves at one point, but they were long gone now, and whatever the logo had been on the front was too faded to decipher. She nearly laughed aloud at how much of a "weekend Dad" he looked at this moment.
Daryl took her chair once she'd stepped away, seeing as there were only two dining chairs, and sat down to his own breakfast.
"What d'you say to her for cookin' us this nice breakfast?" She heard Daryl's voice pipe up as she was walking toward the kitchen.
"Fank you!" Malachi said loudly, through a mouthful of pancakes.
"You're welcome," Beth replied softly, continuing to the kitchen, where she cleared her plate and left it in the sink.
She began working on cleaning up the mess she'd left, gathering the dirty dishes and preparing to wash them and wipe down the stove and counter. The smell of coffee and bacon still lingered in the air. Malachi's voice would drift across the apartment occasionally as he asked his dad questions and they had small conversations. A good breakfast seemed to fix whatever conflict they'd had minutes before.
Daryl entered the kitchen with his empty mug in hand, helping himself to what was left in the pot. Beth was focusing on washing the dishes, lost in her own thoughts about the phone calls and the meeting. His deep voice coming from behind her startled her back to the present, and she turned her head to look at him.
"We got a class from ten to twelve. Self-defense," he said in between sips of coffee. "Might be good for ya t'know the basics if you plan on livin' in the city. Wanna come with?"
The question caught her off-guard. She wasn't sure what she'd done to make him want to invite her along for his Saturday morning activity with his son. Did he think she was lonely, or that she was trying to earn his friendship? She hoped she wasn't sending the wrong message with what she had thought was just common courtesy.
She gave him a look that said she acknowledged his question, then furrowed her brow and turned back to the dishes, rinsing the soapy plate in her hand and placing it in the dishrack. She picked up a glass and began soaping it up, then said, "I dunno. I didn't really sleep well last night – "
She was hoping to make an excuse and get out of the awkward question altogether. A big part of her wanted to go just for the sake of getting out of the apartment for a little bit. But the rest of her was afraid that she would be taking too many risks by going out in public. Plus, she still couldn't read Daryl, so she was assuming that he was inviting her along because he felt an obligation, for some reason. Maybe he thought it was common courtesy, too, and he was just trying to return the gesture. But would he be insulted if she said no?
"I understand," he said, actually sounding somewhat disappointed. "Just thought I'd offer ya to try it. Never know when you might need to disarm a guy. City can be dangerous."
Then again, did he say self-defense?
She placed the last clean dish in the rack and turned off the faucet, turning around to face Daryl with intrigue on her face. She shrugged casually, "So you're sayin' I'll most likely get mugged while I live in this city."
He smirked jokingly, "Not if I'm with ya. But if you're alone, who's to say what could happen?"
Beth chuckled and raised her eyebrows, staring into the faint sparkle she saw in his dark blue eyes, "I can kick a guy in the nuts pretty hard. That usually works."
This time, he chuckled. "That works once in a while. Not always, though."
She nodded, admitting that he made a good point. His persistence assured her that he wasn't inviting her purely out of obligation. She finally gave in, "Okay, I guess I got nothin' better t'do. But why do you go to a self-defense class? You seem like you… wouldn't really need it."
Daryl's expression didn't change, still smirking as he took a sip of coffee and answered, "I don't. I teach it."
By a quarter after nine, Beth found herself walking down the neighborhood streets of the East Village beside Daryl and his small son, whose tiny legs were working hard to keep up with the two adults. She had changed into leggings and one of her baggy shirts, leaving the jacket behind as the day was already beginning to heat up. It seemed everyone was out and about on this particular Saturday morning; they had passed through the lobby of the apartment building and Beth noticed the desk had no one behind it this morning.
She kept asking herself why she'd agreed to this as they travelled down sidewalks and crossed streets to reach their destination. She was enjoying the fresh air, but it was so bright outside, even with the clouds. What if someone recognized her? She tried to remind herself it wasn't likely, especially considering that she'd double-checked all the news sites before leaving the apartment to find zero updates on her story. Just to be safe, she'd brought her bag along as usual – stuffed full of all the money as well as the gun and pocket watch – and she'd worn her sunglasses. She wasn't sure what to expect from this class, so she'd left the gun-concealing undershirt behind for today. No matter what, though, she didn't feel safe letting the Beretta or the bag out of her sight.
Daryl assured her it was just a short walk to the small gym where he held his class each Saturday morning – only twenty minutes. He was mostly silent during the walk, allowing Malachi to babble on and on about fun facts in his head and random questions that popped up, and then just babble about nonsense. Beth listened intently at first, but after about fifteen minutes, she was tuning in and out.
They approached a small building that was nearly hidden between two other businesses. It had a glass front and looked a bit run-down, and there was no sign in sight. She wondered how Daryl remembered where it was as he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door, opening it to usher Malachi inside first.
It was quiet and bland, the insides appearing to be the same as every other gym she'd ever seen. It was small, but had plenty of room for things like self-defense and yoga. There were five or six rolled-up mats propped up against the walls, leaving the hard, shiny floor exposed. Daryl walked over to a wall of small lockers, each with their own combination locks. He turned the numbers on one of them and opened it up, shoving his wallet, keys, and sunglasses inside. He spun around to look at Beth and gestured toward her bag.
"Wanna put yer stuff in my locker?" He offered.
She didn't really have a choice so she just nodded, slipping off her sunglasses and handing them over. The bag, however, was a different story. She had to force her own hand to give it over to Daryl, who didn't seem to understand why she was taking longer than a split-second to slide it off her shoulders. When she finally did, he took it and put it inside his locker, atop his own items.
He made a face that Beth hoped meant he was joking as he commented, "Heavy bag. What'd ya bring all that for?"
She shrugged, trying to smile like it meant nothing, "Better safe than sorry."
This seemed to suffice for him because he also shrugged and closed the locker, then headed to the far side of the small gym to begin laying out the mats. Malachi wasn't far behind, although he kept getting distracted by the toys he'd brought along, so sometimes he would wander off to the corner by himself. Beth looked around for a minute, watching cars pass by outside the big, front windows. People walked by here and there, some of them holding coffee. She wondered when the other students would show up, and who they would be.
I can always bail at any time, she told herself. I can leave. I can just leave. It's always an option.
Reminding herself of this important detail seemed to calm her, and she walked over to the nearest mat that sat propped against the wall. She copied Daryl's movements and pulled down the mat, unrolling it and laying it out on the floor. She figured she might as well help while she was standing around.
Preparing the gym only took about ten minutes, so when they were done, they gathered close to the front door again. Beth stood and watched out the windows, wondering if the others were late. But the clock above the door said it was still a quarter to ten. When she turned to look at Daryl again, she realized he was stretching in preparation of the class. She didn't say anything, turning away and watching him exclusively through her peripherals. Thankfully, he wasn't offering to help her stretch.
A few minutes later, the first student walked in. Daryl greeted her with a friendly hug, asking her how she's been. She was Hispanic and looked no older than twenty-five, with big brown eyes and long, brown hair put up in a bouncy ponytail. She was taller than Beth and slender with prominent curves. She had full, pouty lips and seemed to be looking at Beth the same way both Daryl and Carol had at first. Beth was terrified of her. This woman had an incredibly intimidating aura, and Beth nearly tripped over her words when the older girl held out her hand for Beth to shake it.
"I'm Rosita," she said, still looking Beth up and down.
"I'm – Rosie," Beth replied, blinking hard and wondering if this girl could tell that her name wasn't really Rosie. "Nice to meet you."
Rosita nodded, withdrawing her hand. "You, too. Where you from?"
Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, but answered quickly, "Alabama. You?"
The older brunette seemed satisfied with this answer, and gave her own in return, "Texas. Welcome to the city."
Daryl was standing a few feet away, having resumed his stretches. He didn't appear to be paying any attention to the girls' exchange. Malachi had put down his toys and begun mimicking his father, but was failing comically.
"Thanks," Beth said, looking away from the other girls' eyes awkwardly.
"Sorry, Carol texted me about meeting you, that's how I knew you just moved here," Rosita explained, her expression softening just slightly. She gestured toward Daryl, lowering her voice, "It's not like he tells us anything."
Beth glanced back at Daryl for a second, quickly looking away when she saw him turning toward her. She studied Rosita's face, wondering exactly what Carol had said. They'd barely exchanged ten words, but maybe she knew more about Beth than she was letting on? Or maybe she was just a judgmental bitch.
Rosita turned away and approached Malachi, greeting him happily, "Malachi!"
The blond toddler saw her and his face lit up as he ran towards her, yelling, "Ruh-zeeda!" He jumped into her open arms and let her spin him around for a moment, laughing.
She ruffled his hair as she set him back down, teasing him, "Did you get taller since last week? How much broccoli has your dad been feeding you?!"
Malachi laughed and playfully pushed her hands away, then ran back to his toys when he suddenly remembered he'd brought them.
"And I guess he won't tell you how to stretch before doing any of the stuff we're gonna do and pulling your hamstring," Rosita said, walking back over to Beth's side and speaking a little louder this time in an effort to get Daryl's attention. When he glanced at her, she gave him a mocking smile.
Beth wasn't sure why Rosita was offering to help her stretch, or why she even wanted to talk to her in the first place besides finding out if whatever dirt Carol had said was true. But she took the help nonetheless and let the older girl guide her in stretching properly to prepare her muscles for some of the things she'd be learning soon.
As they were reaching for their toes, Beth spoke up, "Uh, how d'you know Carol?"
Rosita chuckled and said, "She's usually here. We met at this class. A few of us are friends because of it. I guess her daughter's sick today so they stayed home. She's the one who had the idea to start the class in the first place."
Beth didn't know how to reply to that so she just made a sound of acknowledgement and continued stretching. Daryl hadn't mentioned that Carol was supposed to be here. Maybe that was why he'd invited Beth, so he could have a fill-in? She wondered how many of the other students in this class already knew about Beth's existence.
Over the next few minutes, more women entered the small gym. Rosita greeted each of them by name as they walked in. She continued stretching, still guiding Beth in the proper movements. By this point, they'd taken their shoes off and set them by the lockers, and the rest of the women were doing the same as they prepared to join.
"Where's Carol?" A teenaged girl with waist-length, straight, brown hair asked Rosita as she approached from the lockers. Beth remembered that Rosita had greeted her as Enid, and the girl looked like she couldn't be older than fifteen or sixteen, although she was tall for her age.
"Oh, Sophia's sick so they had to stay home," Rosita answered as she stretched an arm behind her back.
"Oh," Enid said, furrowing her brow and lowering her voice as she stopped and leaned in closer to Rosita, "Didn't they have that… thing last night?"
Rosita's eyes shot over to Beth and then back to Enid, and she gave a shrug and mumbled, "I dunno. We'll talk about it later."
Enid gave her a quizzical look but then glanced at Beth and the realization dawned on her. She gave an understanding nod before turning her full attention to Beth, reaching out her hand politely as she greeted, "I'm Enid. Nice to meet you."
Beth took her small, soft hand gingerly and shook it, "I'm Rosie. Nice to meet you, too."
Enid's eyebrows rose as another realization dawned on her, "Oh, you're – Daryl's new roommate?"
Beth nodded, a bit confused at how this total stranger knew who she was, as well. "Um… yeah."
"And she's a sophomore at East Side Community, and her essays and poems are so good that colleges are already talking about scholarship offers," Rosita beamed, watching Enid for her reaction. But Beth could sense that she had just been changing the subject. The younger girl blushed and shook her head.
"She doesn't care about that," she muttered to Rosita, who shrugged.
"What? It's something to be proud of. At least you're good at something," the older brunette smirked.
Beth watched the exchange with envy, recognizing the sister-like relationship these two girls had, even if they only saw each other once a week. It seemed natural between them. She had that with Maggie. She'd always thought it was a bit annoying how bossy and overprotective her big sister always was, but now she missed it more than anything. She already wanted to connect with these other women, recognizing an instinctual kindness in them that she could relate to. But she knew it was dangerous to make friends or get too close to anyone, and she was worried what other questions they might ask her today in an attempt at getting to know her. It seemed that living with Daryl made her much more interesting than she'd originally thought.
The gym had filled with women, and a few men, of all ages, sizes, and colors. The class probably consisted of about twenty people all together. Most seemed to be paired off, or in small groups, and conversed amongst each other as they stretched and waited for the class to start. At this point, Daryl was walking around to each person, greeting them personally and asking them how they were doing. It was about five past ten when the last student walked in through the door, wearing bright green sunglasses and chewing on a straw leftover from a Starbucks drink. Her black hair was in a ponytail and she seemed to be in no rush to join the class, even though she was arriving late.
"We're always waiting on you, Tara. You're late," Rosita called as the chubby, dark-haired girl called Tara slipped off her shoes and jogged over to join Enid, Rosita, and Beth. Daryl was still on the other side of the room talking to a trio of middle-aged women.
"Can't be late to something that you're voluntarily showing up for. What's up – oh, is this her?" Tara remarked sarcastically in greeting, stopping mid-sentence when she saw Beth.
Rosita laughed, "Yeah, don't be rude. This is Rosie."
Tara smiled politely and reached out a hand, "Hey, I'm Tara."
Beth smiled in return, feeling awkwardly scrutinized now that she knew for a fact that multiple women had been talking about her before ever meeting her. "I'm uh – well, Rosie. Nice to meet you, too."
Daryl had wandered over when they weren't looking, crossing the room much quicker than Beth had expected, and his voice startled her. She spun around to see him standing close, eyes moving between Enid, Rosita, and Tara as he spoke, "Careful o' these ones. They look sweet, but they're vicious."
Beth's eyebrows rose but the girls laughed, and he directed his next words towards her, "Pay attention, though. I ain't much of a teacher, but these ones are. They could kick my ass if I let 'em."
Now Beth laughed as Daryl turned and walked away, heading to the end of the small gym so that everyone could see him. He stood on his own large mat laid out at the front, the rest of the students standing in long rows across the small gym. The idle hum of talking and laughter died down and everyone turned their attention to him, standing and waiting for him to speak as he patiently awaited their full attention. Malachi was still in the corner, enthralled by his action figures as he played out a scene to himself. He glanced up when the room got quiet, but lost interest pretty quickly and went back to his toys when his dad began to speak.
"Okay, welcome back, everybody. We got some new faces this week – that's good. You can never be too careful, 'specially in this city," Daryl's voice was the loudest Beth had ever heard it as it rose so that everyone in the small gym could hear. "My partner's not here today, her kid's sick so she's sittin' it out this week. But I was hopin' one of my newer students might come up an' help today."
For a second, Beth's heart skipped as Daryl glanced over to where she stood at the end of the front row, and she thought he was going to ask her to come up front. But his eyes skimmed over her and stopped on another girl in the front row, standing a couple people down. Beth looked down past Rosita, Tara, and Enid. A familiar face stepped forward, her curly, black hair tied up in a bun, and she took her place standing beside Daryl up front. It was the tawny-skinned, black Asian girl from the front desk of the apartment building's lobby.
Duh, why would he ask me, I don't know the first thing about this stuff, she thought to herself, embarrassed that she'd even thought his eyes would stop on her.
"This is Clementine," Daryl introduced her to everyone. "She just started the class a few weeks ago, but she used to take martial arts when she was younger so she can probably kick my ass."
The class laughed and Clementine blushed lightly.
Rosita leaned over and whispered to Beth, "You met her already, right?"
Beth nodded, even though she hadn't formally met the young girl. She'd seen her in the lobby and glanced her nametag, but that was enough. The girl looked to be around Beth's age.
Rosita nodded and went back to watching the instructors, and Daryl continued by talking about what they'd be practicing in the next two hours.
"So last week, we learned how to defend against an attacker from behind. Now this week, we're gonna go over that some more – and I'll come around an' help you guys, for those of you that're new this week. But fer the most part, we're gonna learn about disarming. Whether it be a knife, a gun, whatever. Most attackers are idiots – "
The class laughed lightly at this, while Clementine was merely smiling politely while she stood and listened to Daryl talk. Beth, Rosita, Tara, and Enid were all watching attentively.
" – and they're gonna pull out whatever weapon they have and they'll probably brandish it around, wave it here an' there, they might get close t'your face or your throat to try an' intimidate you. But the most important thing to remember is always: Stay. Calm."
He gestured to Malachi, who was still sitting in the corner with his toys, and called to him, "Hey, Mal, bring the bag over here!"
Malachi looked up and grinned, dropping his toys to the ground and getting up to run to Daryl, slipping the backpack off his shoulders and handing it to his father. Daryl took it with a smirk and there were a few "aww"s from some of the women in the class. Beth held back a smile. Daryl opened the bag to pull out a fake knife and a toy gun, and then motioned for Malachi to step out of the way so he wouldn't get hurt. The toddler obeyed and stood off to the side, appearing excited to see what his dad would do with the toy weapons.
After a few minutes, Beth found Daryl's words to be genuinely interesting and informative as he demonstrated self-defense techniques with the help of Clementine and the toy weapons. She was starting to think coming to the class was actually a good idea and that she might learn something helpful. She began to forget that she was a wanted fugitive in a class full of strangers, feeling more like she was just another normal girl in a class with other normal girls. Even Daryl seemed to be more in his element, practicing scenarios and patiently teaching Clementine the correct movements for the whole class to see. Malachi watched with wide eyes from a few feet away, just as enthralled.
"Okay, now in yer pairs, everybody practice it. Just pretend you have weapons, you're mostly tryin' to grasp the movements. The weapon won't matter eventually. I'll come around an' help to correct you," Daryl spoke up to the class again as they each began turning to each other, apparently already paired off. "But remember, this is just the movements – you never really know what it's like until you're in the situation, so ya have to always remember to stay calm, and try to remember everything you practiced here. Do it enough and it'll be like muscle memory."
Beth turned to Rosita only to find her back turned as she was facing away and talking to Tara. And next to Tara, Enid had paired off with another younger girl in the front row. Daryl approached her, and she almost expected him to volunteer to be her partner. But then she remembered that he had to walk around and help everyone else.
"You wanna practice with Clem?" He asked her, gesturing behind him to Clementine, who had followed him expectantly.
Beth nodded, not wanting to be rude. But she wasn't sure how she felt about getting so close to someone she'd just met. She reached out a hand in greeting, "Hi. Rosie."
Clementine nodded and shook her hand briefly, "Clementine. You can call me Clem."
Beth smiled at Daryl. He turned to Clem and asked, "You guys alright?"
The younger girl nodded and he walked away, heading over to Rosita and Tara to watch them practice and correct their mistakes. Clem turned to Beth and gave a forced smile.
"You wanna be the attacker first?" She asked.
Beth nodded, hoping it would be easier than the other option. She was right, because it was easy to have your arm twisted by someone else while you pretended to attack them with an invisible knife. But when it came to copying the tawny-skinned girl's movements, Beth realized she wasn't quite as graceful. She'd always been a quick learner, honor student, the best at most everything she tried to do. But when it came to self-defense, she was clumsier than she'd thought, and Clementine kept having to stop her and show her the right way to do it.
"No, grab my wrist here, and then twist it this way, but you have t'move your head at the same time if you don't wanna like, die," Clem explained, her patience beginning to run thin.
Beth sighed but kept her mouth shut, fearing what this unfamiliar girl might think of her if she spoke. Instead, she followed every direction the other girl gave her and continued trying. After several minutes, she was able to disarm Clem somewhat successfully. This seemed to satisfy them both. Beth was silently grateful that she hadn't worn the gun-holster undershirt today after all the close contact she'd just experienced.
They practiced for at least half an hour as Daryl made his way around the room, helping the other students. Some of them were starting to get tired and stopping to take a rest, awaiting the next half of class from Daryl. Enid was standing with her hands on her hips, laughing with the girl she'd been practicing with. Tara and Rosita had finally called it quits and wandered over to Beth and Clementine.
"You guys doin' anything after this?" Rosita asked casually, glancing back-and-forth between the two younger girls. "Me and Tara were thinking about stopping at a bar for a beer and some lunch."
"It's not even noon yet," Clem pointed out, as if the offer were ridiculous.
Tara scoffed. "It will be when the class is over. You wanna come or not?"
"I'm eighteen, I can't drink," she answered.
Rosita and Tara booed jokingly, then all three girls looked to Beth.
She quickly replied, "Uh – I lost my ID, actually. In the move. So I'll have to pass this time. Thanks, though."
"We'll just go to a bar and grill, they won't card you if you don't order any alcohol," Rosita suggested, looking to Tara for her input.
"Yeah, but d'you think they'll like, wanna card everybody at the table just in case we share drinks?" Tara asked.
Rosita shrugged and answered nonchalantly, "Then we'll just throw a shitfit. The customer's always right."
Tara laughed, "Okay, but what if it's the law or something?"
Rosita cracked a smile and answered, "They'll either let it go or they'll kick us out, then we'll have our answer."
The girls laughed together and Beth started to wonder if they were best friends or something. It felt odd to ask, though, so she didn't. She still didn't understand why these girls who literally just met her wanted to invite her to lunch with them. She looked over at Clementine again, who was smiling in amusement at Tara and Rosita. She glanced over and met Beth's gaze, raising her eyebrows.
"I got nothin' better to do. Wanna go?" She asked, surprising Beth.
"I dunno if you drink, but I'll slip you beers," Tara joked.
Beth didn't know what to say. She glanced over and saw that Daryl had nearly circled all the way back to them, but there was no way he'd walk over in time to save her from this question. Would they think she was rude if she said no? What did she even care what they thought anyway? She might never see them again. What were the odds of her coming back to this class? She really wasn't sure of that answer at the moment, in all honesty. But it was still reassuring to know she would never be obliged to show her face here again if she didn't want to. Yet she kind of felt like she might end up wanting to. At the same time, she wanted to be paranoid. Her instincts were still telling her to constantly be on her guard, but it was getting more and more difficult when these complete strangers were being so nice to her. And she was already so lonely... and what would she even do with the rest of her day otherwise, besides fight sleep?
With everyone waiting for her to answer, she stammered out, "Uh, y-yeah. Sure."
"Cool. Wanna try that place a couple blocks away? It's a bar and grill, I think they have drink specials for lunch," Tara suggested, watching Rosita for a reply.
"Yeah, that's – " Rosita was interrupted when Malachi appeared out of nowhere, running up behind her and grabbing her legs playfully, laughing. She spun around and grabbed him, chuckling, "You sneaky little monster!"
A few seconds later, Daryl approached, having finally made his rounds of the class and looking satisfied with the results. Beth noticed the way he was eyeing the group of girls suspiciously as he walked up. He must've been as baffled by their magnetism towards Beth as she had been. Or maybe he knew things about the other girls that she didn't.
"What're y'all doin' over here?" He asked, spotting Malachi and giving him a wave as the toddler continued playing with Rosita. "Dangerous group of girls all together. Plottin' to overthrow the government or somethin'?"
Beth spotted the playful smirk on his face and was genuinely surprised to see him interacting with these women like they were his friends. Then again, she hadn't expected him to be the instructor of a self-defense class for mostly women either. She'd begun to think he didn't talk to anyone but his son and his neighbor. Not that that would be such a bad thing. But it was almost relieving to see that he had other people that he seemed to care about, if even just a little. She knew she'd have to step lightly, though – meeting too many new people could make things terribly complicated.
"Or somethin'," Tara quipped. "We're gonna start with overthrowing the drinking policy at the bar-n-grill down the street after class."
"Wanna come?" Clementine asked before anyone else could interject, watching Daryl for his reaction.
He shrugged, glancing at Malachi, then at Beth, and back to the other girls. "Nah, thanks. Me an' Mal were gonna stop by and see if Carol an' Sophia need anything, then we might go to the park. Maybe next week."
The girls gave a disappointed "aww," but no one tried to convince him otherwise. He looked to Beth, asking her pointedly, "You goin'?"
She nodded, "Yeah. I, um… figured I got nothin' better to do."
His mouth twitched but he didn't seem to care either way. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement and muttered, "'Spose so," before turning away to head back to the front of the class. The girls dispersed and returned to their places to prepare for the next half of class.
Beth didn't learn much about defending against an attacker from behind, though, because she kept watching the clock. Now that she'd agreed and made plans to go out to a public place, she couldn't stop worrying about how many cameras might be there and how much time she'd have to check the news to see if her story had gone national before daring to step foot into another establishment. She still had to be prepared at all times, and she knew she should be staying indoors and completely out of sight right now, but it was getting difficult. She might go stir crazy, and she already knew she'd have to stay laying low for a while after meeting the mysterious person from the phone calls in person. Plus… what if these girls were able to explain a few things about Daryl to her? Understanding him better would certainly make living with him a lot easier. And they seemed to know him a lot more intimately than she ever would. Not that she cared to learn the guy's whole backstory, she just needed the stuff that explained why he acted the way he did sometimes.
Her mind was so jumbled that the last hour of class flew by. Before she knew it, Daryl was wrapping up the class, bidding everyone goodbye and wishing them a safe and happy week. Malachi was bouncing up and down with excitement as woman after woman stopped to speak to him, ruffle his hair, or compliment him on his good manners. It seemed that nearly every student in the class was entranced by the blond toddler, and they all looked like they thought Daryl and Malachi were the cutest duo they'd ever met. Daryl beamed proudly as he stood behind his son, shaking people's hands and watching them gather their things from the lockers and leave the small gym.
Rosita, Tara, Enid, and Clem all walked to the lockers together, Beth trailing behind them. They were talking amongst themselves, mostly discussing what they'd be ordering at the bar. As she approached the lockers, falling farther behind so as not to get in anyone's way, she remembered that her bag was in Daryl's locker. She glanced over and saw him squatting down to Malachi's level, speaking with someone while also trying to get his son into the conversation. She didn't want to interrupt them so she decided to wait until he came over to the lockers. She looked over to see the girls were gathering their things, still talking. They noticed her standing off to the side and Rosita waved to her.
"I, uh – he has my stuff in his locker," Beth gestured toward Daryl as she explained why she was waiting.
Rosita heard her, even from a short walk away, and nodded, "We'll meet you outside!"
Beth nodded, a bit surprised that they were actually going to wait for her. Did they genuinely want to get to know her or something? It felt odd meeting people and making friends as a "different" person. How was she supposed to act? Should she change her personality just like she changed her name and hair? But then again, she hadn't really had many friends before, anyway, so there wasn't much to go off of. She'd been so occupied with homework and keeping an excellent GPA, and then basically all of her free time was devoted to the farm and the church. Jimmy was about the only person she had any time for, and that was mostly because he was allowed to come to the farm and was practically considered family for such a long time.
She only waited a couple more minutes before Daryl walked over to the lockers, Malachi following him close behind. He looked exhausted, but not physically – it was more like his mental battery needed to be recharged for the day.
"Sorry, it takes a while to end class sometimes. Everybody loves this little ham," he explained, smirking as he gestured to his son.
Beth chuckled, "No problem." She turned to Malachi and spoke a bit louder, "I can see why! Who wouldn't love him?"
Malachi giggled while Daryl proceeded to unlock the locker, pulling out Beth's bag and handing it over to her. She stepped closer and took it gratefully, slipping it back onto her bag and letting out a breath of relief. She rested her sunglasses atop her head and moved to grab her shoes.
"So yer gonna go hang out with the girls?" Daryl's voice startled her as she was putting on her boots.
"Yeah, I guess so. They seem pretty nice," she said, staring down at the ground and pretending like she was occupied with adjusting her socks.
"Yeah. They're good gals," he said as he tied his shoes. "Just don't… listen t'too much of what they say. You know how women are. They like to gossip."
Beth finally looked over at him, an expression on her face that said, 'really?' "How women are? I'm a woman. We don't all like to gossip."
Daryl smirked as if he knew he could aggravate her without actually challenging her, "Right. 'Cept you do…"
She narrowed her eyes and tried to find a rebuttal, snapping back, "Everyone likes to gossip. It's not just a woman thing – it's a human thing."
He shrugged, standing up from where he'd been tying his shoes, "Guess I'm not human then. Rather not talk than talk 'bout somebody else's life when it don't concern me. Just don't see the point of stickin' yer nose where it don't belong. 'Specially when ya don't always know the whole story."
Beth furrowed her brow, watching the older man walk over to his son and help him gather all the toys into his backpack. "Okay… so you think I shouldn't trust these girls? They're your friends, too, aren't they?"
As he helped Malachi put the backpack full of toys onto his back, Daryl replied a little too casually, "I ain't got friends."
Beth Greene, sixteen years old and about to be a junior at Coweta Charter Academy, stepped into the dining room of her big home to find her daddy sitting alone at the table. He was watching her expectantly with a broad grin on his face. The rest of the house was empty for now – everyone was either out working on the farm or running errands. It was a particularly hot and humid August, and the air conditioning fought to keep up in the large farmhouse. The summer sun poured in through every window. Sweat beaded on Beth's forehead and neck, even though she was already wearing shorts and a tank top.
"Daddy?" She asked, stopping behind one of the chairs at the table.
He gestured for her to take the seat before her, still grinning, and she obliged. She pulled the chair out and sat down, scooting in close to the table and resting her elbows on the surface as she waited for her father to say whatever he had to say. His face was glowing and for a moment, she thought he was going to tell her that the operation was ending. But when he began speaking, she realized that wasn't the case, and her heart dropped a little. He was beaming with excitement and pride nonetheless.
"Bethy, I have some good news," he said, still smiling.
She nodded but asked, "Where's Momma?"
"Oh, she's off somewhere with Maggie right now. I'll talk to her later. But I wanted to tell you first," Hershel explained. His blue eyes were bright with excitement.
Beth nodded and waited for him to continue, still unsure of what to expect.
"You've been doin' so well in school, and you only have two years left. So I want you t'know, if you keep doing this well – well, I did the math and… l can send you to any college you want after you graduate. As long as you can get in, that is."
Her eyes widened and she thought he was joking at first. "What d'you mean?"
"You've been on the honor roll since first grade, sweetheart. And I've been – saving, and planning, to ensure that you can get the education you deserve," he explained as simply as he could. "So, I'm telling you that if you can get into your dream college, wherever that may be, you don't have to worry about receiving enough scholarships or paying for tuition or books, because I've got it covered. Completely."
Beth's eyes grew wider, if that were possible. "Really…?"
Hershel smiled again, finding her disbelief to be comical. "Of course. I mean, I may not like you movin' far away, but… well, as long as you visit. And call... I know you'll make good decisions. You are my daughter, after all."
She grinned now, all the possibilities filling her head. But the happiness on her daddy's face was almost a better feeling.
Maybe this is what he's been sacrificing so much for, she wondered. Maybe it was always for me and for the family. He wanted to secure our futures. Things can get easier now, we can get closer to ending the operation. I can go to college somewhere far away, we can all go back to being normal again. Maybe that's what this has all been about.
But it could never be that simple, could it?
By one in the afternoon, Beth found herself seated in a booth next to Clem with Rosita and Tara sitting on the other side. They sat in a small, low-lighted bar and grill that was located just a few blocks away from the small gym where Daryl held his class. They'd walked together as a group, Beth trailing in the back as she clutched her bag to her back and listened to the other three girls joke around with each other. She'd turned and watched Daryl and Malachi walking in the opposite direction until she couldn't see them anymore.
It seemed that there wasn't much business in this particular restaurant today, even for a Saturday afternoon, as the girls found themselves to be four out of about fifteen patrons inside the establishment. And as Tara and Rosita ordered their second round of drinks, they were quickly becoming the loudest patrons in the establishment. They had all ordered food and were mostly finished eating by now. Rosita and Tara had each had a beer, but now they were trying a couple of cocktails that had attracted their attention on the menu. Beth had sat silently for the most part, listening to the girls as they gossiped and joked and laughed. They seemed to be good friends, and she assumed they hung out pretty regularly. They had mentioned sixteen-year-old Enid – who, apparently, usually joined them – and how she'd chosen to leave right after class today because she was going to spend time with her new boyfriend. Rosita had doted on the young girl for a few minutes as if she were the proud big sister. They also mentioned Carol and Sophia again, but changed the subject when they looked over and realized Beth was present and that she wasn't quite as acquainted with Carol.
However, Beth learned a lot about all of them just by listening. Occasionally, one of the girls would turn to her and ask for her opinion, or try to get her involved in the conversation, but for the most part, she was observing. Once in a while, she would interrupt to ask something, but it was usually in an attempt to get to know the other girls better. She had tons more questions on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't want to seem nosey or pushy or annoying, so she'd just smile and nod instead. She tried to use context clues to put together the parts of the conversations that made no sense to her, and it seemed to be working fairly well so far. She had to admit… it was nice to get wrapped up in someone else's drama for a short time, even if her own was still lurking at the back of her mind the whole time. At one point, she briefly checked the national news sites on her phone while the other girls chatted, just to assure that her face wouldn't randomly show up on one of the TV screens around them.
They'd only been sitting down and talking for about thirty or forty-five minutes, but Beth had already learned that Tara was a paramedic (she'd originally wanted to be a cop but she had personal reasons for not liking the NYPD and Beth was grateful to hear it) in her late twenties who had been dating a woman named Denise for about a year now, and things were going well. She and Rosita, who were assumedly about the same age, had met at a college class in the city years ago – Rosita had moved from Texas a couple years after she graduated high school, leaving behind a home full of overprotective brothers and a strict, overbearing father, while Tara had moved to the city from a small town a couple hours away with her sister and niece after their father passed away around the same time. They were both done with college classes now, but had remained friends. Rosita was a mechanic (a piece of information that surprised Beth, but also caught her interest) and she worked long hours during the week. Apparently, the pair had signed up for the self-defense class because it was free and they both had Saturdays off from work. Rosita mentioned an "Austin" here and there, but from what Beth had gathered, she was single and living with a couple of roommates nearby. As for Clem, she didn't seem to talk and gossip quite as much as the other two girls. She seemed to still be a bit weary, not completely comfortable in their presence just yet. Beth wondered if it was because she was there, though. However, from what little she did speak, Beth learned that she was eighteen and had grown up in this same area of the city her entire life, and her parents both had mid-level jobs and a healthy marriage. She mentioned going to college once or twice, but didn't go into any details.
Rosita looked to Beth, their eyes meeting. She seemed to realize that she hadn't spoken much, so she prodded, "What about you, Rosie? Where are you working right now? Or are you still in college?"
Beth was caught off guard, having been distracted by all the other girls' stories and daily drama. She thought quickly, answering, "Oh, I just got here a few days ago. I – haven't found a job yet. I took some college classes back in Alabama but I couldn't really afford to finish."
The other girls nodded, watching Beth with new interest. She tried to seem as dull as possible, but they seemed to be fascinated just to hear her consistently speaking. She gave a light shrug and Clem spoke up.
"Wish I didn't have to work," Clem commented, sipping her lemonade. "All I do is sit there and do my homework anyway. It's a pointless job."
"It's good to have experience," Tara told her, already halfway through her first cocktail. "Maybe your parents just wanted you outta the house once in a while."
Rosita laughed and Clem smirked, rolling her eyes. The server stopped by, halting their conversation for a moment as he picked up empty plates and checked if anyone needed refills. Rosita and Tara both requested another drink, even though they hadn't finished the ones currently in front of them. The server nodded and walked away to fetch them anyway. When Rosita turned back to the other girls, her voice was lowered.
"So has anybody talked to Carol since last night?" She asked, eyes drifting from Tara to Clem and then to Beth.
They all shook their heads, but Tara added, "Didn't they have their session last night?"
Rosita nodded, "That's the last thing I knew. All Carol would tell me was that Sophia wasn't feeling well so they were gonna stay home today. She stopped texting me after like, midnight."
Beth's ears perked up. She'd already been listening, but now she was really interested. Rosita noticed and glanced to Beth, adding, "Don't tell Carol we told you anything. We're just worried about her."
Beth nodded, "Of course… What did they have to do last night? I mean, is she okay?" She tried to cover her curiosity with concern, even though she knew basically nothing about Carol and Sophia.
Tara shrugged as she chewed on the straw from her drink, the empty glass sitting in front of her. "They just started counseling and it's been kinda… taking a toll on them. Sophia started, uh… hurting herself. I think Carol tried to get her into counseling before that, but when she found out, it wasn't even an argument anymore."
"Yeah, I think last night was a tough one," Rosita mumbled, absent-mindedly fidgeting with the straw in her own drink.
"What… How old is Sophia?" Beth asked. She was nabbing possibly her only opportunity to learn anything about Daryl's neighbors without directly asking him. But she was also confused, because she hadn't realized that they had such a dark secret.
"Twelve," Rosita replied.
Beth furrowed her brows. "Wow, that… sucks." She thought back to when she'd caught a glance of the young girl the hallway and added, "When I saw her, I thought she was younger than twelve. She's so small."
"Well, yeah, she is… small," Rosita mumbled, looking down at the drink in front of her as if there were more to that sad story, but she didn't want to tell it.
"What really sucks is how much she's been through and she hasn't even gone through puberty yet," Clem piped up.
Rosita bit her lip and the server came back around, two new drinks in hand. He set them down and Tara helped herself to a hearty sip from her new straw before speaking, "Yeah, but let's not talk about that. I think everybody wants to leave that shit behind. As in – the past."
Beth noticed Clem pursing her lips and Rosita leaning down to focus on appearing distracted as she finished her drink. She decided to keep her own mouth shut, but she was fighting back the strong urge to ask about Carol and Sophia's past. She figured that she could safely assume it had something to do with abuse, and she guessed that explained where Sophia's dad was. But it still left a lot of questions. At the same time, she wanted to ask Tara what kind of personal experience she had with it, because she reacted as if she were offended. Did she have a similar dark secret, or did she just not believe in gossiping about people behind their backs?
"Right… But we've all been talking about ourselves and our own pasts, too," Rosita pointed out as she turned to Beth once again. "What made you move here, Rosie? And have you been to therapy, too?"
Tara smirked into her drink and Rosita flashed her a brief grin, but Beth caught the small scowl on Clem's face. She ignored it and replied, "Uh, just… kinda like you, I guess. Wanted t'get away from my brothers. But both my parents are gone, so – well, I just left. I wanted to start fresh and go somewhere new. Not in therapy yet but I'm sure I'll need it eventually."
The other girls chuckled and nodded, and Clem appeared mildly more impressed with Beth than she was with Rosita and Tara at the moment.
"You came out here just, not knowing anyone?" She asked.
Beth nodded. "Yeah. Daryl was the first person I met here."
Tara's eyes lit up at the mention of his name, and she interrupted herself mid-drink to ask, "Oh – what's it like living with him? Does he ever talk to you? About anything?"
Beth shrugged, a little surprised by her questions. "Not really. Aren't you guys, like… his friends?"
All three of the other girls shrugged, and Rosita answered, "We try to be. I mean, he's nice during class and once in a while, he'll ask one of us to watch Malachi if Carol is sick or something. But he never comes and does stuff like this with us. He seems to care, but I don't think he really likes being around people."
"Well, he has a little kid," Clem reminded her.
"So?" Rosita quipped. "We could ask him t'come with us to Chuck E. Cheese and he'd still say he has to do laundry or some shit."
"He's just a private guy," Tara interjected, nearly finished with her second drink. "He's always nice. He just doesn't trust many people."
"Or any people," Rosita said.
"He talks to Carol," Clem muttered, absent-mindedly stirring the ice in her empty glass with the straw.
"True," Tara agreed.
Rosita nodded as well. Beth looked around, waiting for an explanation, but none of them had anything to say for the moment. She decided to go ahead and let out the words that were sitting on her tongue.
"Why Carol?"
Tara didn't look up from her drink and neither did Clem, but Rosita did. She only shrugged, though. "Who knows. Neighbors, babysitter. Carol seems to attract the formerly abused like a magnet lately, so maybe that's it."
"Probably," Tara piped up, sharing a knowing look with Rosita. "I never really thought too much about it, but what if he's another abuse survivor? She probably practices her counseling on him."
Rosita smirked but quickly wiped it away and looked back to Beth, who asked with a furrowed brow, "What d'you mean? Is she a therapist or something?"
Rosita shook her head and explained, "No, but it was her idea to start the self-defense class. She just wanted Daryl to be the instructor because he's a fairly big guy and she needed somebody strong to help her teach the class. Plus, I think he's the only guy she could find who'd do it for free. She's taking online classes and stuff to get a degree in social work so she can do counseling and try to help domestic abuse survivors. She left Sophia's dad because he was abusive and moved here to get away from him, and now she wants to help other women. So it's like… all these abused girls come to the class and then they flock to Carol and she basically teaches women how to kick ass and take back their lives."
"Well, it is pretty badass," Tara added. "But it just gets hard when you're still healing yourself and your kid and you're also trying to heal other people… And I'm sure it's probably the same thing with Daryl. They're the kinda people who put everybody else before themselves."
Rosita nodded, agreeing. Beth nodded as well, but she wasn't sure if she agreed or if she just understood. At least they'd confirmed the part about Carol and Sophia's past that she'd been taking guesses at.
"Yeah, but she's smart, and she's good at it," Clem said. "And so is Daryl. He just doesn't like many people to know."
"Daryl does that class for free? Every single Saturday?" Beth asked before the other girls could say any more about Carol. She was getting tired of discussing abuse and its survivors – or rather, its victims.
"Well yeah, we said earlier that it's a free class," Rosita said. "It's only two hours a week but it's taught us a lot. Me, Tara, and Enid were the first people to sign up."
Clem and Tara nodded in agreement. Tara looked around the establishment, trying to find the server with her empty glass sitting in front of her. They all seemed to lose interest in the conversation simultaneously, minds drifting off somewhere else.
After a few moments of silence – Tara searching for the server, Rosita texting someone back on her phone, and Beth staring down at the table with a head full of thoughts – Clem spoke up, "I need to get home. I have a paper due tonight."
It was past two now, and Rosita nodded in agreement while Tara called to the man she recognized as their server, spotting him in a corner across the room. Beth opened up her bag and dug around inside for some money, trying to act discreetly while the other girls were distracted. She grasped a couple bills in her hand and pulled them out, closing the bag immediately. But when she looked over, Clem was watching her from the corner of her eye.
How much did she see? Beth thought as she stuffed the money into the waistband of her leggings and tried to appear normal.
But the other eighteen-year-old girl didn't say anything. She just looked away. A few seconds later, the server approached their table and Tara asked him to bring them the check. He disappeared again and Clem pulled money from her pocket to set down on the table. Rosita did the same on the other side of the booth, as did Tara. Beth tried to discreetly pluck the twenty-dollar bill from her waistband amongst three other hundred-dollar bills.
"Yeah, Denise wants to do something tonight so I need to get to the store and head home," Tara said, setting down a few bills on the table.
Rosita sighed, plopping down her own money, "Ugh, that reminds me… I have to get groceries this weekend."
The server appeared again and set down a small, black booklet that contained the tab. Clem picked it up and checked the total, then gathered everyone's money and counted it before stuffing it inside the booklet and closing it again, setting it back down. She stood, grabbing her bag, and Rosita joined her.
"See you guys later," Clem waved before turning and leaving.
Tara scooted herself out of the booth and stood up as Rosita turned to Beth and asked, "Need somebody t'walk you home?"
Beth shook her head even though she was secretly hoping she could remember which way she and Daryl had come from. But then, she guessed, she always had GPS. "No, I think I'm okay. Thank you, though. Um… see you next week?"
Rosita nodded and Tara's eyes lit up like she'd just remembered something. She looked at Beth and held her hand out, "Here, gimme your phone and I'll put our numbers in. We work a lot during the week but we can still text, if you want."
Beth was a bit taken aback by the offer, astounded at the fact that these girls she'd barely met wanted to give her their phone numbers just so they could talk. She fumbled to find her phone for a second, then pulled it from her bag and unlocked the screen, navigating to her contacts list before placing the phone in Tara's hand. The older, dark-haired woman continued to chew on her straw as she casually added her and Rosita's numbers into Beth's phonebook. She then handed the phone back and gave a small smile.
"There, now Daryl isn't the only person you know in the city," she said.
After parting ways with the girls outside the bar and grill, Beth put her sunglasses back on and checked the GPS. She began taking the route back to the apartment, but she chose the longer way. It took her through quiet neighborhoods and small business districts, as well as past a park. She sauntered through for a moment, taking in the smell of fresh grass and watching the dark clouds move through the sky. They were getting darker, and there was still a hint of rain in the air.
During her walk, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to Irma. It read simply, "Had a big breakfast this morning. Then I went to a self-defense class and made some friends! Heading home now to settle in and read a book. Hope all is well with you and Dale. xoxo Rosie." She smiled and pressed Send, still unsure of exactly what she'd be doing with the rest of her evening, but wanting Irma to be assured of her safety. She still felt bad for having missed all her text messages and forgetting to call her.
Beth continued walking at a leisurely pace, observing everything around her and trying to memorize as much as she could. She passed through one block that consisted mostly of small stores, and she soon found herself window shopping. There was a comic book store that had colorful toys and collectibles on display in their big front windows, a maternity store with mannequins in stylish pregnancy wear on display in their windows, as well as a thrift store for gently used clothing and books whose front window was covered by a large, beige curtain. She wandered inside, bag strapped securely to her back and a few hundred-dollar bills still stuffed into her waistband.
The store was dusty and had the smell of an old house. There was a single old woman sitting behind the register at the front counter with her nose in a magazine, and she barely looked up when Beth entered. There weren't any cameras in sight. The farther in she got, she realized that the racks of clothing weren't in bad condition. They were all fairly new, and they all smelled better than the store itself. She figured she may as well grab some more clothes since she didn't know when she'd get the next chance. She only had a few outfits right now, and they were all dirty.
She browsed through the racks of clothing to find a section that held all the items in her size. She pulled out shirts, pants, jackets. She pressed them to herself, checked them in a mirror, compared different options. After a solid thirty minutes, she had picked out all the other wardrobe pieces she lacked and gathered them in her arms. She carried them to the front counter and plopped them down, then watched as the old woman set her magazine down and scanned each item, one at a time, and folded it up to be placed inside a brown paper bag.
It was late afternoon when Beth resumed her trek home. She toted two of the large, brown paper bags in her hands, walking a little quicker now that she was carrying something. She felt pleased with herself, having found a lot of surprisingly cute clothes inside the dingy little thrift store. She couldn't really indulge in much these days, but there was nothing wrong with treating herself to some new clothes. Even if she only got to wear them while she sat around the apartment.
The city was louder than the countryside of Georgia. Obviously. Beth had expected it, but it still set her nerves on edge sometimes when she heard police sirens. And other times, the incessant honking of horns and random car alarms annoyed her. Her head was on a swivel as she walked down sidewalks and past rows of connected houses and apartment buildings. Most everyone she passed was minding their own business and barely giving her a second glance. She enjoyed the fresh air and sunlight after days of being inside, but she was being reminded of why she'd stayed inside in the first place. She could never stop worrying or looking over her shoulder.
She was relieved when the apartment building came into view. The sun was high in the sky, though obscured by scattered clouds, and the trees out front of the apartments cast large shadows over the sidewalk. She stared at the window that belonged to her and Daryl's apartment as she got closer and closer, but she couldn't tell if there was any movement inside. The bags swung from her hands as she walked, reaching the front door quickly.
The lobby was empty, as usual. The desk still sat abandoned, and Beth thought about how Clem was probably sitting at home, doing her homework right now. She jogged up the stairs, becoming winded by the third flight. She had to slow down and catch her breath as she approached the final landing, but she sighed with relief to know that she was done with the stairs.
The door to Carol's apartment was shut and Beth couldn't hear anything from the hallway. But then again, she couldn't hear anything coming from inside Daryl's apartment, either. She set her bags down and pulled the bag from her back around to the front, digging around inside until she found the spare apartment key she'd tossed inside that morning. She unlocked the door and picked her bags up, letting herself in to the quiet, empty apartment.
She set her bags down on the floor inside and shut the door, flipping on the light switch. The living room and kitchen looked undisturbed since that morning, and Beth couldn't hear any signs of Daryl or Malachi being home. She stepped into the hallway and peered down to the bedroom at the end, just to be sure. But the door was wide open and both beds were empty.
She shrugged to herself and took her bags to her bedroom, shutting herself inside. Her muscles finally relaxed and she breathed in relief before pouring out the contents of her bags onto the bed. She sorted through the clothes, pulling off tags and stickers and gathering all the trash to be thrown away. When she was finished, she pulled the gun and pocket watch from her backpack and placed them carefully beneath the pillow. Then she shoved the bag full of money back under the bed. Out of sight, out of mind.
She held one of her new shirts up to her nose, breathing in. She groaned. She had completely forgotten to ask Daryl about laundry. She tossed the clothes to the floor in a pile and kicked off her boots, plopping down on the bed. Now that she was home and lying down, her eyelids were heavy and the exhaustion was really hitting her. How long had it been since she'd slept? She couldn't even remember.
Her phone sat on the nightstand, vibrating with a new notification. She tried to lift her arm to grab it and see what it was – even though she knew it was most likely a text from Irma – but she couldn't seem to gather the energy. It all seemed like far too much work right now. Her arm remained where it was, and she didn't move a muscle. Her eyelids fell shut once more, but didn't rise again for several hours.
to be continued…
A/N: I know this chapter is a little fluffier than the others, but I hope that doesn't deter you from the story. If there was anything you didn't care for, please let me know in a review! Or if you liked it!
And don't forget: Voting for the 2017 Moonshine Awards is happening NOW! So if you're enjoying this story, please go vote for it in "Best Work In Progress"! :) You can vote at ultimatebethylficlist dot com /2016-moonshine-awards/ (remove the spaces and replace dot with an actual dot)