Try

Life had been a challenge of late. She was desperately lonely despite the friends she'd acquired over the last year. With her internal barriers, it was painfully hard to let them in. Isolation had been a defense for so long.

Now, though, Ellette ached for that connection more than ever, in a way she'd never thought possible. Friendships she'd always been open to. Trust was something she'd never entirely lost. Yet intimacy, closeness and truly letting someone in, that she had done only once over the last decade of her young life. That instance had not ended well.

The slow, steady footsteps rang with familiarity, yet she didn't open her eyes. She would let him come to her. He always did.

He crouched down beside her, wordlessly. The warmth of his form next to hers flared the desire she was struggling so vainly with. She shook her head, anger rising in her. She childishly wanted to strike out at him, to hurt him for the frustration his very presence caused her.

Instead, she sighed and stiffened. "Do you need something, Rand?" She kept her eyes averted, choosing instead to watch the ducks as they bobbed and paddled on the lily strewn surface of the pond before her.

He shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his face. He brushed the errant locks back with those scarred and haggard hands of his. She hadn't even realized she had turned to watch him, his familiar gestures causing a flutter in her chest. She grit her teeth and turned back to the pond, though the birds held little interest for her. Rand's quirks and idiosyncrasies held far more appeal.

"Just checking in on you," he murmured, his voice a kindly rumble. Always so damned patient.

She could feel his gaze on her and a warmth rose to her cheeks.

"I was about to go out shopping," he continued. "I was hoping you might join me. Pick something out you like." The last two were more questions than statements, a cautious hope in his tone.

A warmth encircled her cold fingers where they rested on the damp grass. She jumped despite herself and stared down at the hand that held her own. She wanted to pull away, and barely resisted doing so. It would only hurt him.

As much as her irrational side wanted to do just that, she knew she would regret it. Instead, she slipped her fingers from his grasp and put her hand on his shoulder as she climbed to her feet. She gave his shoulder a squeeze before straightening.

"Sure," she replied. He'd been trying to get her to the farmer's market for ages now. "I've been wanting to see these freakshow veggie stands you've been collecting oddities from." It felt good to tease him, to remember they were friends.

He chuckled and got up. "Good! I got a bonus on my last check. I want to stock up, so having another person to help carry the load home..."

"You just want a pack mule?"

He patted her playfully on the back. "Yes, and I want your company."

His hand lingered, and she stiffened, finding it hard to not snap back. The warmth of his palm slid from her back to her shoulder, settling there. So carefully casual he was with each subtle advance. He guided her from the grassy knoll and out onto the path.

Casual or not, careful or not, each touch overwhelmed, overstimulated, and terrified her. She pushed down the fear and breathed. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know.

The market was a bustling street affair. Tables and canopies to guard their wares from the growing heat of the day made up the variety of stalls. It was only a few blocks from their rundown, old town apartment. She'd always found it bitterly amusing how these events drew the uptowners and their well-lined pockets to the edge of the slums. Such was the way of the city. Everyone lived on top of each other. Million-dollar houses lined the lake mere blocks from the projects where sirens and gunshots were a regular nightly serenade.

Rand busily filled his canvas bags with vegetables, some of which she recognized, others she didn't. She gravitated towards a stand with a sparse sampling of early season fruits. A mottled greenish looking orb caught her attention. She picked it up turning it in her hand. It was firm, glossy, and plump.

"Would you like to try some?"

She started. The voice belonged to a dark and wizened woman sitting behind the table. Her wildly curling hair was held back by a scarf, her eyes dark yet bright. Gnarled fingers held a ripe, green fruit, much like the one Ellette had been inspecting. With a small knife, the woman deftly cut the fruit into chunks, holding one out on the tip of the blade. The flesh was a dark red, startling against the pale green of the skin. A large, dark droplet of juice formed along the edge and slid down the blade. Ellette found herself staring at the offered piece. It was both gruesome and enticing.

"Go on, try it. You'll never know if you like it if you don't try."

Ellette nodded and forced a smile as she took the small triangle. "Thank you," she said as she put it into her mouth. It was surprisingly sweet. She pondered as she chewed, the woman's simple words struck a chord in her. How would she know what she was missing if she didn't try? She smiled. "Can I have a pound of these? They're really good."

The woman nodded, gathering up a few choice green spheres into a bag and placed it on the scale. "They're pluots. These are an early-season variety. Come back later in the season and you'll find they come in many colors and types, all just as sweet."

"I like these."

"Good, good," murmured the woman. "That'll be two-fifty."

Ellette dug her hand into her pocket, fishing out a couple of bills. "Thanks again for the sample."

"Of course," beamed the woman. "I hope we'll see you again next week."

Ellette only nodded and turned to find Rand in the bustle of the crowd.