10 Chapter IX

Police Officer: Somebody reported them together outside of school.

Me: Selena and Sunny?

Police Officer: Yes. Something happened in the woods. Do you know of this?

Me: Yes.

Police Officer: And did this have anything to do with Sunny?

Me: What?

Police Officer: What gave Sunny the courage?

Me: It was love.

***

Sunny trotted her way back from the bus stop as if her bag weighed a million pounds. It was true: Sunny was the lonely girl with wealthy parents who did not spend much time with her. They were constantly absorbed in their affairs about a business of some sort, overly concerned with gaining wealth, while she was left to wilt in the hollow home.

As she strolled along the street, Sunny's boots wanted to show off to the entire city. Each click let everyone know how much she dreaded even just the act of moving. Instead of climbing up the steps home, Sunny had a sudden urge to derail. She didn't venture far, but it was enough distance to generate more freshness, elation. She needed that. The grey clouds over her, Sunny advanced into the woods where the trees hugged her until the air felt stale. Safe.

Sunny sat on the rock and looked into the distance where the skatepark stood. I could tell she was reminiscing about Selena, her smoke, her tears, her presence. Suddenly, a click interrupted her thoughts. Then another.

"Who's there?" A bush moved. Another click. Sunny froze. She reached in her pocket. The bear deterrent was gone. She swallowed hard. God no. "What are you!" There was panic in her voice and her protective instincts were on fire. She was not about to get beat up again.

"Stop playing, whatever you are." The noise stopped. With a camera around his neck, a boy walked forward.

"W-w-what are you doing?" Sunny asked, her face carrying an idiotic form of surprise. Standing beside her was absolute perfection. A boy, a cute boy. He had brown hair that waved with the wind. She forgot how to talk, and just smiled.

The boy brought the camera back to his face and motioned Sunny: tilt your head right. She followed. Click. He was probably the only guy in this generation who owned an actual camera. Somehow that made him sexier. They looked at each other for a long second. He came beside her and showed her the camera screen. Sunny squinted to see.

"Ew, I look gross. You're going to need a lot of photoshop," she said as a complaint, though she secretly admired them— the shots were a revolution in aesthetics. This guy was genius. He made her look pretty.

"No way," he said. Josh had hard eyes, but a voice that was soft. "A photo of you would need no photoshop at all." He was tall, and mature, and had wavering bravery that made Sunny believe he was ready for whatever was to come. Sunny pretended to throw up by putting her finger down her tongue. He laughed a liquid laugh, one Sunny secretly wanted to hear again and again.

He was a few years older than her, a grassy-haired college boy working a part-time job at Sport Check. He lived in the dorms with his buddies but knew a few high school boys because of his younger brother. Josh started opening up to her, conversations flowed like water, and Sunny discovered that she had met a true artist.

"Why do you like photography?"

"A photo," he said "captures the entirety of the moment. The dust motes, the molecules of air, all pause mid-flight. I don't know. It's just so unique because it allows for pauses between moments." He spoke poetically, and along with the nightfall, the moment seemed so rare, so special to Sunny; almost ordained to happen. He was so exotic.

"Why did you creep up on me?"

"You... you're different, and I like to photograph unique people." Sunny, with a tilted head and feet, pointed inward, bit her lip. There was no way he really thought that.

"What?"

"I guess, I'm just sick of seeing the same white people. I see you and I see culture."

"So, you like culture?" Sunny avoided eye contact, afraid that he would be able to sense her forlorn insides. Surely, he would walk right away if he found out who she really was. Just like Selena had.

"When my grandmother married my grandfather, she was a full-blooded native woman and he was a full-blooded white man."

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah. she lost all her treaty rights and was removed from reserve, and when it came time to tell me stories, we had already lost all that culture, language, and everything."

"That's horrible."

"My grandmother eventually got her treaty rights back, but it was just different. She spoke English, Cree, Dene, French. And now there's me, two generations later, failing standard English." He looked down with despondency in his eyes. "Cree would be our national language if those suckers never came. Damn Shame." There was a long rustic pause of stillness.

"How about you?" It shook Sunny to her marrow when anyone asked personal questions about her. Somebody actually cared. Josh was gentle and considerate, and a magnetic type of handsome, but beyond that, he was an avid listener. Being next to him was therapeutic; it was almost as if he was here to heal her scars.

There were no more despairing thoughts, only a fuzzy feeling of hope. And that was Sunny's own personal dose of heroin. The day ended in serene brilliance and for the first time in a long time, she forgot about Selena.

***

In the next few days, Lyssa took Sunny out to dinner. It was a Tuesday, and there were coupons that guaranteed a discount at Boston Pizza. Sunny's parents didn't raise her to be religious, but they did raise her to worship the credit card. She was used to buying from the on-sale rack, using coupons, shopping at garage sales. It wasn't like they were poor or anything. They weren't. And the reason they weren't was that they knew how to save. Money. Money. Money. Earn. Earn. Earn. Save. Save. Save.

They arrived. Table for two. Sat down, and Lyssa called over the waiter immediately. The waiter, dressed in a sleek black came over with a notepad in hand. When she arrived at their table, Sunny winced. It was the unescapable bitch. Selena.

Sunny kept her eyes down the whole time as Lyssa ordered in a precise tone of voice. When she finished, she too realized that it was the same girl who once came over. Oh no. Please don't say anything. But like mothers always do, she did.

"Is that all?" Selena wore a nonchalant look as she scribbled above the lines their orders. Sunny could tell that her makeup was done with care, and wondered if she had got a new boyfriend or something.

"Yes. Thank you," said Lyssa beginning to look away. But then, out of nowhere she turned back around, put her hand on Selena's arm, and said," Oh my, I just realized. You're Sunny's friend. You came over the other day!"

"Um... we weren't... yeah," she said, glancing a peek at Sunny's stone-hard face. "Yeah." Lyssa's eyebrows squiggled. Sunny could tell that she was befuddled in her thoughts. Selena poured them two glasses of water and retreated to another table. Sunny let out the breath she had been holding. Her fingers softened.

"Did you see her?" said Lyssa.

"What?"

"She's totally acting weird."

"She is?"

"Did something happen?"

"No."

"Maybe you should invite her over again. I do feel bad about cutting her stay short, your father and I were just so worried that she was the smoking Selena." Sunny smiled, stayed quiet.

"I got you something," said Lyssa.

"Really?" Lyssa handed Sunny a mouthguard and told her to wear it to school. "I don't want to see you getting hurt anymore. You know the braces cutting your lips and all. It's as painful for me as it is for you." They hugged.

When they parted the conversation reduced to silence so Lyssa opened her bag, took out a little notebook and a pencil, added up what her bill would come to, then took our her purse and place enough money to cover the exact amount of the bill, including a 20% tip (which she had also calculated), on the table in front of her.

When the meal came, Lyssa devoured it in under ten minutes and when she finished, she took a blue pen out of her bag, a piece of paper, and started to scribble on a random page of a black notebook. Sunny had already finished eating and was twirling the leftover spaghetti with her fork while Lyssa continued her meticulous work throughout the entire meal. She was hopelessly devoted, writing down nonsensical ideas and aspirations that would later make the first draft of a business plan.

They were both totally engrossed in their own thoughts that there was no space for family conversation. Sunny wanted to ask where her father was. She waited for her Mom to finish up, and when Lyssa finally ran out of inspiration, the two stood up, put on their jackets, and left the restaurant with robotic movements.

***

When Sunny got home, she rushed out the door and straight to the rock to meet Josh. There he was waiting, camera in hand. They sat close and personal and as they talked, Sunny covered her naughty smile, as if imagining dialogues between them that were insane on the surface but reached below depths that no one would ever think could be a 15-year-old's thoughts. Sunny was very close to having a boyfriend. She was sure it was just a matter of days before it would happen. And she would say yes.

"Can I ask you a question?" Said, Sunny.

"Anything."

"Why are you here with me?"

"What?"

"Why are you so nice to me?" Red rushed to his cheeks.

"I... I think it's because you give me something that I cannot get from anyone else," Josh replied with languorous movements. Sunny, lips parted slightly, took her finger, and lightly placed it over her enigmatic smile. When an outcast has a friend, is she really still an outcast?