Painted And Crushed Wings

Cindy was tall, well at least she seemed tall to Dre. Then again Cindy was 18 and Dre was 12. Ever since she met Andy, and Andy had taken her to Tony's Coffee House, Dre had been one of its most frequent customers. She didn't drink coffee.

It'd been a month and four days since she met Andy. And it'd been a month since she'd gotten a job as a mechanic's assistant through Andy's friend Phil. Every day at four o'clock she'd arrive at Tony's and order a roast beef sandwich with just lettuce and pickles and a large glass of milk because Cindy had made the off-handed comment about it being 'cute.’ It had only taken Cindy three days to start asking Dre if she wanted the 'usual.'

Cindy was amazing. Dre would eat her sandwich and drink her milk slowly and watch Cindy take orders; expertly balance trays of burgers, drinks, and salads in one hand while pouring water with the other. Cindy could remember anything. She could do anything.

Dre didn't know why, but everything about Cindy was familiar and for Dre familiar was rare, and therefore amazingly intriguing and beautiful. Perhaps that's why she kept returning to Tony's, ordering the same thing day after day. Perhaps that's why she always found her self watching Cindy, listening to her conversations; always trying to find out more about Cindy.

She liked watching Cindy work. Everything about Cindy was, well there was no other word for it, cool. She was eighteen. She had her own apartment. She could remember 12 orders without writing anything down. Her light brown hair, shoulder length and layered with highlights of purple, seemed to always be smooth and shiny, unlike Dre's dry flat hair. She could make anyone laugh. And she worked some mysterious job during the night. And perhaps that's why Dre had found herself slowly falling in love with Cindy, at least she thought it was love. But she was only 12, so she could only surmise as much.

There was one problem: Dre had never really spoken to Cindy. The most she'd ever said to the older girl was the occasional polite hello, goodbye, thank you, and welcome. She'd never actually had a real conversation with Cindy. Ever. Everything she knew about her she'd learn through what she heard, saw, and Andy had told her. She knew a lot.


"So what'll it be, Dre? The usual?" Cindy greeted as Dre entered and sat down on one of the stools.

"Uh. Yeah." She'd been on the brink of saying no, but she didn't know what else to order.

"Coming right up," Cindy smiled. She has a smile that's contagious, Dre thought as Cindy placed her already prepared usual sandwich in front of the younger girl, along with a large glass of milk. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

Tony's was empty today. Dre looked at the empty seats to her left and right as she drank her milk. She was used to more people being around. She'd normally eat silently and listen to Cindy joke with the other regulars. And then around five o'clock Andy would join and she'd talk to him and listen to his conversations with Cindy. But today was different. It was empty. It was quiet and unfamiliar.

"Odd isn't it?" Cindy had noticed Dre taking in the deserted restaurant.

Dre, clutching the cold glass to her lips looked left and right, wondering who Cindy was talking to, only to find that when her eyes returned to Cindy, the older girl was giggling, "I'm talking to you silly."

"Oh." Dre placed the glass down on the counter, both her hands still wrapped around it. "...Sorry." Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink that Dre wouldn't be caught dead wearing. "...What's odd?"

"How empty it is," Cindy shrugged, grabbing a rag and starting to wipe down part of the counter.

"Yeah...it is." Dre had stopped eating her food; in fact she hadn't really started. This was the first actual conversation she was having with Cindy, and she didn't want to interrupt it with food. After all Andy would arrive shortly. He was coming earlier today for some reason.

"So...” She'd stopped wiping the table down, leaving the rag on the counter and moving more or less in front of Dre and leaning against the countertop. "How are things? Andy tells me you’re turning out to be quite the mechanic." She grinned that grin Dre could spend an hour describing.

"...Good." Dre for the first time in her life had found herself in a state of pure shock and nervousness. Cindy was talking to her, to skinny twelve-year-old off-the-street Dre. "...I'm...Uh. Still learning."

"Andy told me different," Cindy was beaming, which was just making Dre more and more uncomfortable. "He said you're quite the quick learner. Heard you finished putting together your first basic robot today?"

"...Well--yea." Dre shifted, tucking her chin to her chest. "...Andy helped."

Cindy's laugh filled the air, "You're funny, you know that?" She didn't give Dre a chance to answer as she moved onto her next question: "So are you staying with Andy?"

"Um. He's letting me stay at his place until Phil can find me a place to stay." They were both still considered minors, she and Andy, and while Andy had his own apartment, it was rented under Phil's name even though Andy paid the rent.

"...It is weird having to live with Andy? He's so...well--Andy,” Cindy grinned, pulling some purple hair shading her eyes to the side and tucking it behind her ear with the ease and fluidity that only someone as cool as Cindy could do.

"No..." Dre shook her head. After all it wasn't the streets, what more could she want? "...I just sleep on the couch. Don't have much." She shrugged.

This received a chuckle from Cindy. She reached out and tapped her index finger on Dre's nose, "You're too cute."

If it was any indication of how she felt, the tips of Dre's ears turned bright pink. "...I...Uh--"

What she was no one knew because mercifully enough Andy walked in at that very moment.

"Hey girls," he slid onto a stool to the right of Dre and ordered a coffee.

Immediately Cindy turned her attention to Andy. They chatted for a few minutes. Dre's food was still left forgotten on her plate; she was trying to get a hold of her bearings. After all she was still getting over the two minute interlude she had just had with Cindy.

"Hey, Dre. You going to eat, honey?" Cindy asked noticing the untouched food.

"You haven't finished yet?" Andy looked at his watch then back at Dre, who was looking rather lost for a moment.

"Oh. Um. I'm not really hungry."

Cindy looked concerned for a second then took the plate off the counter, taking the sandwich and wrapping it up for Dre to eat later. "Maybe you will be later," she smiled.

"Awesome. Thanks, Cindy," Andy said, snatching the bag and hoisting Dre up off her stool. "Let's go. We're going to be late."

When you're twelve-years-old, you're still finding yourself; you're still trying to figure out the mesh of emotions you seem to always be going through. Andy had said after twelve everything seems to fall into place and the next big step is when you're fifteen. Dre never understood what he met, but she figured she would, eventually. To her, that eventually seemed like now.

Andy had explained where they were going in the car to Dre. Phil wanted them to do a job at a plantation near the edge of town. The way Andy said the word job made Dre think it was more than just your average paycheck job. She didn't like the sound of it.

They arrived quickly enough, and, once out of the car, were immediately greeted by two large men.

"We're here to pick up some equipment," Andy said. He started talking to the men, and Dre let her mind wander away from them and instead onto the building they'd come from. It was two stories high and painted a dull musky grey. There were few windows, if there were any at all. It was ugly; it reminded Dre of a short, pudgy, and shifty balding man.

"Come on Dre," Andy's voice cut through her thoughts as the men led them to a garage in the back of the building.

Dre didn't know what they were carrying. Andy had said equipment, so Dre assumed it was robot equipment, but it was for Phil, so it could have been anything. But she didn't ask questions. Sometimes you shouldn't ask questions, and she felt that this was one of those times.

They finished loading Andy's car and soon enough they were on their way. Dre slept for the most part. When she awoke she expected to be back at Andy's apartment, but found herself looking out into the misty grey darkness of a shipyard. Dre wondered how long they'd driven to get to the shoreline, but again, she didn't ask.

"We need to put these in number 14. Can you start doing that? I need to get something from the office around the corner."

Dre just nodded silently and took the keys from Andy. There weren't that many boxes, and not only did Dre start unloading the car, she finished in about twenty minutes. She locked up the car, pocketed the keys, and meandered her way to the office Andy had mentioned earlier.

It was dark, so dark that she ran into a desk as she felt her way to the back of the building. Once she hit a wall she turned left turned left into a small hallway. There was light coming from an open door on the right; she could hear voices.

"Andy, relax. I'm a pro at this remember?" It was a familiar voice made indistinguishable by the gum the speaker was chewing.

"I know. Just be carefu-" Andy's voice was cut off and when Dre poked her head around the door she found out why. A girl was kissing him. It was Cindy. Not a small kiss. It had started out small, but as Dre stood in the doorway it grew into a full-on tongue tango.

Andy noticed Dre in the doorway and pulled away from Cindy gently, pushing the older now seemingly unrecognizable girl's shoulders.

"I'm...s-sorry," Dre stammered, looking down at the ground and covering her eyes. "..I just--Well, I wanted to tell you I finished with the car."

They other two still didn't say anything. "...I'll wait outside," Dre turned quickly, stepping out the door only to lean against the wall of the hallway.

"...Andy. I think you broke that little girl's heart," Cindy said with just a little too much playfulness.

Dre couldn't explain how she felt as she leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it. She kept going through various conversations from the past month in her head. Something in her chest hurt, but it was deeper, she couldn't put her finger on it. Her head was swimming with half-formed thoughts as she squatted in a ball against the wall, face in her hands. Maybe that's why it was called a crush?

"No," she heard Andy's voice. He sounded concerned. "I think you did."