The Miles Between - Page 31

“Excuse me,” I tell the clerk. “I’ll be right back.”

I find Mira sitting on the curb outside the store. Her lashes are wet, and her cheeks flushed. She is aware of my presence but says nothing.

“This spot saved?” I ask, pointing to the curb next to her.

She nods, so I remain standing.

I may as well get it over with. We really have to address her outburst. “Quite a fuss you made in there over a pair of shoes.”

She looks up and glares at me, an expression I have never seen on her before, at least not directed at me. She looks away and remains silent.

“The clerk must think—”

“You don’t need to tell me what the clerk thinks. I know what others think of me, Des. Hell, I know what you think of me.”

“Where’d you learn that kind of language?”

“Company I keep, I guess.”

“I don’t think anything of you—”

“Don’t!” she says, jumping to her feet and staring at me eye to eye. “Just because I’m perky and I tend to smile a lot doesn’t mean I’m blind! Or dense!” Her chest is rising and falling in deep breaths, like she is winding up for more. I expect her next words to explode out of her, but instead they come out low and steady and bitter, which is even more frightening. “I know your life has been hell. Maybe that’s why I try to smile so much around you. Being cheerful doesn’t mean there’s nobody home, you know. Maybe it just means someone cares and they wish they could balance out all the garbage but they’re as helpless as everyone else. Maybe that’s me, Des. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I’m the helpless one. Maybe I’m as afraid as anyone else, and maybe just once I wish someone would back me up for a change.” She tilts her head to the side and offers a sarcastic grin. “Back me up. Yeah. What a thought that is! Maybe a pretty pair of shoes is shallow and stupid to you, but maybe for a fair day—” She looks away, her jaw rigid but her voice wavering. “Never mind. It’s stupid. You’d never understand.”

I stand there unable to utter a word. She’s right. I never have understood. I never tried. I reach out and touch her arm, but she shrugs me off.

“I’ll be

okay. Just give me some time.” She walks away and stops at the corner. I see her shoulders shake.

“I’ve never seen Mira that angry.”

I turn around. Seth is standing just outside the store door. “Guess today didn’t turn out so fair, after all,” he says.

I look down at my feet, the Mary Janes not looking so perfect anymore. “No. It did,” I say. “I got exactly what I deserved. Mira has never been anything but kind to me, and all I have done is returned that kindness with ridicule.”

Seth walks closer to me, looks down the street at Mira and then back at me. “But Mira still hasn’t gotten what she deserved. I suppose for it to be really fair, you’d have to make it right. For her, anyway.”

How can I make it right? I’ve already hurt her. She’s angry with me. And shoeless.

Shoeless.

I look at Seth and then at Mira still in her bare feet on the corner. “Yes,” I say. “I suppose I would.”

23

AIDAN AND SETH ARE WAITING on the sidewalk for us when we exit the store. Aidan peals out a loud, long whistle. Mira strikes a pose. I am still mystified by these two and how just a few hours away from Hedgebrook, their inhibitions have disappeared. Aidan, whistling?

“Nice,” Seth says.

“Yes, Mira,” I agree. “You were right all along. They are perfect.” And they really are. In the space of a few minutes, the shoes look entirely different to me. Maybe because Mira looks entirely different to me. Her perkiness has a layer beneath it I hadn’t noticed before. I’ve heard cafeteria talk that her parents are divorced and she was the center of a long, bitter custody battle. Is that when the smoothing over began? When she didn’t want to choose sides because she loved them both? Why didn’t I see this before?

“The shoes were there all along,” she says. “Just misshelved. Happens all the time with clearance shoes. Isn’t that right, Des?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “Only misshelved.”

She hands Aidan her oxfords, and he drops them in the store bag with our others. “You should have heard Des!”

“We did, Mira. We were in the store too.”

Tags: Mary E. Pearson
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