CHAPTER TWO;
All Fired Up
The week passed slowly when I didn't see her. Counting the days wasn't helping either. It just made everything run slower. I doodled on the paper that sat in front of me, outlinin the curve of her body and accenting it with the lustrousness of her hair. The picture hardly did her justice. I drew her mouth her mouth. She was a talker, that much was obvious. But I erased it, and drew a smile instead, snickering silently at my cop out. I compard her voices. In the middle of Central Park she spoke with such authority and obligation, desperate to get her point across, to stamp her ideas on the minds of millions. Then there was she way she spoke to me on the subway, despite the fact that I wasn't like everyone else, that's how she treated me.
A couple more days went by. I swear I saw her through shop windows. However, I couldn't bring myself to test my sanity. Maybe she was an illusion now, a ghost I'd made up in my mind. I brought myself to doubt the idea. I'd talked to her just the other day. She couldn't be a figment of my imagination.
I exited the office, tousling my hair, adjusting it to the Autumn breeze that swept it acorss my forehead. For being a Wednesday, quite a few people were already gathered before the foutain where she usually stood. This time alot of them were toting signs that promoted her speech. I skimmed the crowd, looking for the girl that I'd been doodling. I spotted her, across the field. She was holding someone's hands in front of her and staring down at her feet. I couldn't quite make out her expression, but her body language gave her away. She wasn't thrilled. I watched as she dropped her hands to her side, then put a hand up as if to silence him.
I noticed her dancer-like stride wasn't nearly as elegant today. She actually stumbled, but immediately regained her strength and composure when she stepped onto her ledge. I could faintly hear her voice over the agreeing shouts of everyone else, but I knew it wasn't as light hearted as usual. She sounded provoked, and if you hadn't watched her on the opposite side of the park you would've believe that it was because she was so passionate. I knew the truth though. She was hurting. He'd beaten her spirit.
Due to her obvious distractions the rally only lasted for a half an hour. The throng dispersed, and only a few peope stuck around to pat her back, and remind her of how amazing she was. She stuffed her things into her messenger bag aggressively, while mutter execrations under her breath. "You did great, you know?" I complimented timidly. Her voice suddenly brightened, trying to cover up her distressed appearance, "Thanks." Her eyes narrowed past me as she stared off into the horizon. "Are you okay?" I asked, swerving my head to catch her attention. She raised an eyebrow, and smiled wider. "I'm fine." She turned to pack more things into her bag, but then glanced back at me. "What are you doing tonight?"
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