The sun shines through the window. It warms me. I can feel Ash keep glancing at me. I feel like I should say something else, but I have no idea what. It’s not like he responded to me before. What’s the use. I sigh. I’m no good at conversation.
The tune to Susan Stark’s “Tomorrow” from Cancion de la Loba comes unbidden into my head. With it are these haunting words:
He knows where his trouble lies,
For his heart is torn in two.
His love for her, his duty now,
The Van Helsling name drags him trhough hell.
Into this family he was born,
It's leaving him tattered and torn.
His love for her will still go on,
Even after his last breath is gone.
My eyes glance toward Ash. I wonder where those words came from. I wonder if they are true, and if they are who is the girl? I pick at my jeans; it’s what I do when I’m thinking. I decide that when I get off, I’ll give him my number. Just in case he needs someone to listen to him.
I may not be good at talking, but I do know how to listen. A lot of my mother’s patients, especially the younger ones, told me things they wouldn’t dare tell my mother. I think that’s why she liked to bring me with her when she could.
My stop's coming up soon. I feel butterflies in my stomach. I can’t believe I’m going to do what I’ve decided. I hope I don’t chicken out.