"you cannot find peace by avoiding life" - virginia woolf

-----

“Alright girls, remember to meet me out here right after school. Em, no silly business, okay? P'Nita has to go to her first group session and can’t be late,” Freen explained as she pulled her car up to the drop-off/pick-up zone of the school.

“Got it!” Emily said, nodding her head and smiling at Freen who was looking at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Nita-,”

“I got it during your last lecture,” Nita interrupted, her gaze stuck to her right as she looked out her window. “I won’t be late.”

“Good,” Freen said after a beat, deciding that she should consider Nita's cooperation as a small victory in the parenting department.

Nita got out of the car with that, thankfully not slamming the door behind herself.

“I’ll see you later, baby,” Freen said, turning her attention back to Emily who was unclipping her seatbelt.

“Bye, Freen!” Emily said, pressing a quick kiss to her foster mother’s cheek before getting out of the car and running towards the school.

Freen sat for a moment and watched the little one catch up with Nita and head into the school.

Once she was sure that both girls were inside and safe, she pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of her studio.

-----

A typical lunch for Nita was spent at the back of the school with her sketchpad and her music.

Emily would usually be beside her, the little one occupied with a book and her food allowing the two girls to enjoy their quiet time together.

Today, Nita was working on a sketch, sans her music due to her confiscated phone. In her peripheral vision sat Emily who was reading and munching on some ritz crackers at the same time.

A tap on Nita's knee managed to break the teen from her concentration.

“Phi., I have to go bathroom,” Emily explained as she stood up. “Watch my book.”

Nita nodded her agreement and grabbed Emily's hand before the girl could scamper off.

“Remember to wash your hands, okay?"

“I know. I don’t want icky toilet germs on me!” Emily exclaimed, making Nita laugh and release her hand, clearly satisfied with that response.

Alone once more, Nita looked back to her sketch and was prepared to concentrate again; but then something else interrupted her.

A soccerball from the large field rolled towards her, bringing with it a floppy haired boy.

“Sorry,” the boy said, jogging towards Nita who didn’t respond. “Pranita, right?” the boy asked, a certain cockiness to his tone that made Nita cringe.

She opted to stay quiet but nodded her agreement.

“I’m Sky,” he said, as if that were any more of an indication of who he was to Nita.

“And?” Nita finally said, prompting him to continue.

“We have bio together. I sit two rows ahead of you.”

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to care?” Nita sassed, making the boy scoff. She knew that he expected her to be all over him and that her lack of interest was a real kick to his ego.

“Y’know, maybe if you hung out with me and my guys sometimes you wouldn’t act like you have a stick up your ass.”

“Hey, you came over here,” Nita said, starting to grow defensive. “Now get your ball and go before I make you regret it,” the girl continued, standing up as if to show that she could stand her ground.

“That a threat?” Sky asked, stepping closer.

Nita reacted at that, swinging a fist towards the boy who was all too prepared for her next move. He caught her wrist and gave it a twist, pulling her closer to him.

“You’re going to regret that,” Sky sneered, squeezing Nita's wrist a bit more causing the girl to fight against his hold. “Clearly no one’s broken you in yet. Maybe you should let me and my boys help you out with that.”

Nita recoiled slightly, getting the message loud and clear. She felt bile rising in her throat, her stomach practically turning to stone as she processed his words.

“Dude, c’mon! The others are waiting!” a guy further out on the field interrupted.

The two paused for a beat before Nita spoke up, hoping to get the last word in.

“Go on. Your boys are waiting for you, douchebag.”

“Fucking worthless cunt,” Sky spat her way, shoving her back a bit before hurrying to return to his game.

Nita waited a beat and tried to calm her breathing. She wasn’t so sure when it became so ragged, or when her palms began to sweat. One blink caused a stray tear to tumble down her cheek. Why was she crying?

The running approach of Emily caused Nita to quickly sniffle back whatever emotion surfaced and shake off the feeling of impending doom that settled in her gut.

“Thanks for watching my book, Nity..” Emily said, clearly not noticing anything wrong with her sister.

The little one simply sat back at her spot and returned to her ritz crackers.

Nita tried to return to her sketch but a sour taste from her encounter with Sky made her unable to do so. Instead, she tore the page out and crumpled it up.

“What’s wrong with it?” Emily asked, looking at the paper ball.

“Nothing,” Nita lied, starting a new sketch. “It just didn’t feel right anymore.”

-----

As promised, both girls met Freen outside of the school at 3 o’clock sharp.

Emily instantly launched into a speech about her day, clearly not missing out on any details as she discussed each and every class.

Freen was actively engaged in the conversation, asking questions and commenting about the interesting parts of her foster daughter’s day.

Nita stayed silent the entire drive over to the center, offering very few words to Freen's occasional questions regarding her day and what not.

“Here we are,” Freen said, her voice a bit softer than normal.

She could tell something was troubling the girl a lot more than usual and wanted to make the drop off at her first support group a bit easier.

“Emily and I will meet you out here at 5, okay?”

Nita looked at Freen, a pensive look on her face before she masked it and nodded her agreement.

Wordlessly, Nita got out of the car and went towards the center.

“Hey, Bubs. Any idea what’s going on with your sister?” Freen asked, looking at Emily through the rearview mirror.

“I dunno,” Emily said, still oblivious to the shift in her sister’s mood.

Freen, however, was not as easily fooled and could see through Nita. The things she’d do for that girl to let her in.

“Maybe we can make her cookies,” Emily suggested, regaining Freen's attention.

“Is that something she’d like?” Freen asked, making the little one nod.

“ P'Nita loves brownie cookies,” Emily said, causing a frown to appear on Freen's face.

Six months with these girls and she’d never learned about her foster daughter’s favourite type of cookie. Something about that made her feel horrible.

“Alrighty then. We’ve got an hour and a half to kill so we might as well go shopping for the ingredients.”

“Can we get more toast?” Emily asked, making her foster mother roll her eyes.

“Yes, Bubs, we can buy more bread” – god knows they go through at least two loaves a week at the rate the six-year-old eats toast.

“And grape jelly.”

“And grape jelly,” Freen agreed, nodding her head as she pulled away from the community center.

-----

Nita was one of the first few to arrive at her group therapy. She hated being early, it gave people more time to try to engage in conversation or scrutinize her from a distance.

She opted to keep to herself, as she normally did, and wandered along the edge of the room, looking over the various posters and sign up sheets that were strewn across the walls.

There were posters for all kinds of things – teen pregnancy, drug/alcohol use, bullying, rape, abuse.

Nita snapped her attention away from the wall and looked over to the chairs set up in the middle of the room. She opted to take a seat with her back facing the wall of posters and her front facing the door. Her escape route.

P'Beer said she had to attend group therapy, but she never specified if she had to stay for the whole session. She’d stick around for as long as possible – for Emily's sake – but the second things seemed to be getting hard (which they always did) she knew she would leave. Nita was a creature of habit after all.

“Alright kab, if everyone could please take their seats,” a male in his early twenties said as he motioned towards the chair circle.

He took a seat at what could be considered the forefront of the group and waited for everyone else to occupy a seat. Once the commotion of movement stopped, the man spoke again.

“Before we start off today, I’d like to welcome two new people to our group – Pranita Anantrakul and Punch Tipanan ,” there were weakly mumbled hellos and pathetic excuses for greeting waves before the man spoke up again, “I’m P'Prise and I lead our weekly group sessions during this time slot. The way I organize these sessions is by encouraging not only group discussions but short periods of personal thinking and discovery. Everyone is encouraged to bring with them a notebook where they can jot down some notes during our reflection times. Now, this week you two are walking in on a bit of a weighted subject. We were planning on discussing triggers and how they effect us,” P'Prise paused there, seemingly taking in the reaction of the others in the circle.

“If anything that is mentioned during our conversation does not sit well with any of you, please feel free to voice your thoughts or take a breather. I highly encourage you not to hold anything in, however; remember, this is a safe place that is made to help you work past your inner turmoils’, not fuel them.”

Nita breathed in deeply through her nose, already exasperated by the lengthy introduction from P'Prise.

Share your feelings – You are valid – This is a safe place, yada yada yada. It was all the same horse crap to her.

“Before we talk about causes, would anyone like to share what happens to them when they are triggered by something?”

Nita looked at the other teens in the room, waiting for someone to say something. She was surprised when people began to willingly speak.

“I cry,” one boy said, making others nod. “I’m not too sure why, but my triggers make me overwhelmed and I don’t have any other way to let that pent up feeling out, so I cry.”

“I’m sort of like, Wen,” a girl spoke up. “I don’t cry, but the overwhelming feeling makes me feel like I’m choking so I start to panic.”

Several more people shared their two cents. Even the other new kid – Punch was their name – shared that they start to pace and mumble to themselves. All that was left was Nita.

“ Pranita, would you like to share anything?” P'Prise asked, causing the teen to mull the thought over in her mind.

Nita shrugged and after a beat said, “I break things.”

At least if P'Beer asked, Nita could say
that she participated. It was better than nothing.

-----

Becky strolled through the aisles of the grocery store, loading her cart with stovetop and microwave dishes that required little effort on her end.

She was never the homely type that knew how to prepare a meal, let alone grocery shop. But she managed, and every so often she made the conscious effort to grab a few fresh fruits or vegetables to prevent her body from completely shutting down.

It was at the produce section that the sound of a familiar voice caught her attention.

Becky stopped dropping apples into a bag and looked straight ahead to see Freen talking to her youngest foster daughter.

The tall brunette and little brunette laughed about something, and Becky couldn’t help but smile. It was reminiscent of her Ma's and Charlotte's relationship.

Not wanting to seem creepy, Becky returned to her task at hand and finished grabbing her apples before setting them in the cart.

When her back was turned, Becky heard Freen call out for the little girl before she huffed a breath and, presumably, walked away.

Becky chanced a glance behind herself and noticed that Freen had left the produce section in search of the girl.

It bugged Becky that a woman she barely knew managed to capture her whole attention without even knowingly doing it.

It reminded her of when she first met Heidi. Slowly but surely she became all Becky could think about, and eventually, she worked up the gall to ask Heidi out; a decision that would fill Becky's world with so much happiness and then eventually take it all away.

But Taran was right, Heidi wouldn’t want her to live the rest of her life alone. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try to get to know Freen a bit better. If anything, she was always open to making new friends.

With a determined stride in her step, Becky turned her cart towards the aisles and started to glance through them in hopes of finding Freen.

Two aisles down, Becky found the older woman crouched in front of the child. Being her awkward, and suddenly socially inept self, Becky decided her best tactic to get Freen's attention would be to make it seem like she couldn’t get past her cart.

“Sorry na ka, I just need to sneak past you,” Becky spoke up. And then beautiful brown eyes met hers.

-----

“Alright, Bubs. Pick one vegetable that you know you will eat,” Freen said, following the determined six-year-old that was walking in front of the cart.

“How about this,” Emily said, patting a squash and looking back at Freen.

“You hate squash,” Freen said, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I do?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side in thought.

“Yes. Remember I made that soup the other day-“

“Eww!” Emily laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “No squash.”

“Should we get some cherry tomatoes for your sister?” Freen suggested.

“Yes! Tomatoes are so yummy,” Emily enthused, making her foster mother laugh again.

She knew that Emily was only saying that because her sister liked them. There was no way she’d be able to get the little one to eat a vegetable, but it was worth a shot.

As Freen sorted through the selection of boxed tomatoes, Emily caught sight of her favourite aisle and went running off in that direction.

“These look good,” Freen said, turning to show Emily who was no longer by the shopping cart.

“Bubs?” Freen called, glancing around the produce section.

She sighed deeply and set the item in
the basket before pushing the cart in the direction she knew her kid would go. This wouldn’t be the first time that Emily slipped away without her permission.

A sigh of relief slipped past Freen's lips as she rounded the corner and found Emily sorting through some generic white bread brands, two loaves tucked securely under either arm.

“ Emily, what did I say about running off?”

No response.

Freen took a calming breath and approached the child, carefully crouching beside her and turning her by her shoulders so they could be face to face.

“Wait, I’m finding the squishiest one!” Emily declared, clearly not finished with her search.

“Hold on a minute. I need you to look at me,” Freen said, using a gentle hand to steer the child’s attention back to her.

Once the big brown eyes eyes locked on her, Freen's spoke again. “What have I said about running off?”

“I forget,” Emily said, still not paying much attention.

“No, Em, you didn’t forget. I know you know this. Think carefully,” Freen instructed.

She knew that Emily's attention span was not the longest unless she was reading a book, which is why she required more patience when it came to interactions like these.

Emily took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking a second to think through what Freen was asking.

“I have’ta ask you for permission,” Emily finally said, making the foster mom smile and nod.

“Exactly. I get really worried when I don’t know where you are. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I was just getting toast,” Emily pouted, shrugging her shoulders in the direction of the shelves of bread.

“I didn’t know that before, though. Next time I’d like for you to ask me so we can go together. Think you can do that, baby?”

“Yes. Were you scared?” Emily asked, making Freen smile fondly at her foster daughter’s concern for her feelings.

“I was. I didn’t know where my little crazy pants went,” Freen said, trying to get a smile from the six-year-old.

Emily frowned and released the two loaves of bread from under her arms before wrapping them around Freen's neck, giving the woman a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m sorry na ka,” Emily mumbled into the crook of her foster mother’s neck.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. Just try to remember for next time, okay?”

Emily nodded at that and stepped out of the embrace, crouching down to pick up her bread.

“Did you find the squishiest loaf?” Freen asked, changing the subject to something the child actually enjoyed.

“Not yet,” Emily said, turning back to the shelf with a determined look on her face.

“Sorry na ka, I just need to sneak past you,” a voice spoke up behind Freen, making the woman stand up and turn around, an apology ready to leave her mouth.

“Becky,” she said instead, a smile instantly coming to the taller brunette lips as she recalled their lengthy conversation from last week.

“Oh, hey,” Becky said, smiling as well and reaching a hand up to fix some wispy hair from her face. “Funny running into you here.”

“Well, at the rate that this one eats bread I practically live here,” Freen said, motioning behind herself to Emily who was still deeply invested in her bread hunt.

“Explains the toast for lunch,” Becky laughed, recalling the times that she’d be doing outside monitoring and find Nita and Emily sitting together with a baggy of toast between them.

“It’s one of the few things she’ll eat,” Freen said, hoping she didn’t come across as a bad parent to Becky. “I prefer a full child over a hungry one.”

“I’m in no place to judge,” Becky said with a small laugh as she motioned to her own cart. “I practically lived off of  instant noodle as a child and the habit hasn’t left me entirely.”

Freen laughed as well when she noticed the half dozen cups of instant noodle in variety flavour in the shorter brunette’s cart.

“Glad to know that this one will never change her ways,” Freen said as she lovingly stroked the top of Emily's head.

“Would you like bread too?” Emily asked after her foster mother’s affectionate touch snapped her out of her bread hunt.

“I think I’ve still got enough at home. Thanks for offering, though,” Becky said, making the child smile. “Has your sister shared her book with you yet?” the teacher asked as an afterthought, recalling her conversation with her student a week ago.

“Yeah!”

“Are you enjoying it?”

“It’s alright,” Emily said, twisting her lips in thought. “I don’t like the dumb people who burn the books, though. Like, how will anyone ever get to read the Magic Tree House books if crazy people are walking around burning them?”

“Magic Tree House, huh? What crazy adventure are you on now?”

“Pirates Past Noon!” Emily enthused, dropping her loaves of bread once more so she could reach into the cart for her book to show Becky.

She was extremely excited to have someone talk to her about her books that wasn’t Freen or P'Nita.

Becky took the offered book and smiled at the well-worn cover and pages. Emily was evidently a very invested reader.

“What’re these?” the teacher asked, crouching down to the child’s level and running a finger over a passage in the book that was circled in sloppy crayon.

“Those are my favourite parts,” Emily explained, flipping a few more pages to show her colourful markings. “I sometimes read them to Freen at night.”

“This one’s always got her nose in a book,” Freen said with a fond smile, Becky catching the way the foster mother smiled lovingly down to Emily.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about your books or share your favourite parts, my classroom is always open.”

“But you teach the big kids,” Emily said, tilting her head in confusion.

The lower grade levels were restricted to their section of the school, which means Emily had a whole different set of teachers than Nita.

“I do, but I always have time for incredibly smart kids like yourself. Just ask Pranita where my classroom is, and she can show you.”

“Okay ka,” Emily said, still in slight awe that an adult wanted to talk to her.

Most adults, expect for Freen, thought her talking was annoying and useless.

“Thank you ka.”

“My pleasure,” Becky said, handing the book back over to Emily standing upright again.

“Why don’t you finish finding your bread, Bubs?” Freen suggested, making her foster daughter nod and return to her task. “Thanks for that,” Freen said, turning her attention back to Becky.

“No need to thank me, P'Freen. Emily is clearly a bright kid. I’m interested to see what more she has to say.”

“You really don’t know the impact that has. How can I repay you?”

“That’s not necessary,” Becky said, brushing off the offer.

“At least let me buy you a coffee or something.”

Becky smirked and said, “if you’re offering to take me on a coffee date then I definitely accept.”

Freen blushed and stuttered over her own words before finally taking a deep breath.

“Yes. Okay, a coffee date it is. How about Saturday at 5? I know a great place by the water.”

“Sounds good. Just text me the address,” Becky said, pulling a piece of loose paper and a pen from her bag and quickly scratching her number down on it.

She handed it to Freen who smiled and thumbed it in half before slipping it into her jeans pocket.

“I’ll text you then,” Freen said, making Becky nod.

“Can’t wait,” the brunette said, turning her cart around and heading back down the aisle the same way she came.

Freen stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the interaction before realization set in that Becky didn’t have to get anything on the other end of the aisle.

Freen was suddenly giddy with the thought that Becky intentionally approached to talk to her.

“Freen why is your face frozen?”

“What?” Freen snapped her attention to Emily who was lobbing three loaves of bread into the cart at once.

“You were staring at nothing for a long time,” Emily explained, moving to grab another two loaves.

“Alright na, that’s enough,” Freen said, unloading one loaf of bread and steering Emily away from dropping her other two into the cart. “And don’t be cheeky,” Freen warned, giving the girl a quick tickle to her sides, making her squeal with laughter.

“C’mon, we have to get P'Nita soon.”

Freen and Emily went on to finish their shopping, Freen's stupid grin not leaving her face for even a minute.

To be continued...

A/N:

Both Nita and Emily is Anantrakul