Day 7
“Don’t look at me, I thought we were going for tacos.” - Story Writing Academy
Paul and Jessa were walking down the busy San Francisco street, deep in the Mission district. Music from restaurants and bars punctuated out of open windows and doors as they dodged grown adults on scooters and determined runners.
“Ugh I’m so tired,” Jessa complained while pulling back her purse as a runner dashed by, a bit too close for comfort, “How far is this place?”
“Few more minutes, we’re only two blocks away,” Paul said, happily staring at the signage in each window, glowing neon and large text, “I’m really hoping they have watermelon agua fresca on tap today.”
As they rounded the corner, Jesse felt a smack against her chest and stopped. She looked down to see a mop of black hair, a brown face and deep brown eyes staring up at her.
“Oh sorry!” the little voice squeaked.
“It’s ok. Are you ok?” Jessa backed up.
“Um yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you lost?”
“Um no.”
Jessa looked over at Paul, helplessly and he smiled and crouched down to talk at eye-level with their sidewalk companion.
“Is your mom or dad around? We can help if you need it,” said Paul.
The deep brown eyes stared back at Paul, then looked up at Jessa. Quietly assessing.
“I’m actually running away.”
“Oh, I see,” Paul replied calmly.
“Why?” Jessa asked.
The eyes narrowed as the reply came, “Because I‘m going to live with my real dad in Oakland.”
Jessa looked down at Paul, who was still crouched.
Paul nodded and looked back up to meet Jessa’s eye and shrugged, “Don’t look at me, I thought we were going for tacos.”
