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I ignored her jibe, happy for her to find amusement in what many would call my sad life.
I snapped a few pictures of the choppy waters. My camera—something I’d carried with me since I got it three Christmases ago—flashed red, indicating the battery was low. I flicked the plastic side twice like I believed that would knock more power back into it.
I spied an image through the camera’s lens that cemented my feet to the ground. I gripped Rhylie a little tighter. Her eyes were on them, too. On the family at the harbor-side restaurant that resembled ours. A mommy, daddy, and two girls, one with auburn curls and the other, champagne.
The eldest couldn’t have been any older than six. The exact age Rhylie was when she first came to live with us. Being only a year older than me and totally different in personality, we became instantly close. We never had that vicious sibling rivalry that tarnished the memories of many happy families.
As the saying goes, life made us sisters.
And we were happy to be sisters. Happy to be a family when her dad and my mom got married, becoming our parents.
Sisters who felt the same pain but dealt with it differently. Friends who’d hold each other up through it all.
Sighs left us in harmony, and we found ourselves sharing a glance before Rhylie found the strength to put one foot in front of the other and pull me away from the family trying to enjoy their lunch.
“We should eat, too.”
I nodded, pushing the capture button before the camera’s power cut out.
“What’s our daily budget?” I asked Rhylie, who controlled the little money we had left. If we had spent the generous amount Daddy gave us to shop at the mall for our Christmas presents, we’d be left starving.
The house insurance had failed us, the life insurance, too. Rhylie said things take time, but she only said it to stop me from worrying the way she did. I felt terrible for her. For the burdens she bared alone. At nineteen, her life was so hard she secretly didn’t want to make it to twenty. I heard her prayers each night. I heard her pray for us to be with our parents. And I prayed for the opposite. I prayed for us to live—for our strength to make them proud.
“What do you want?” Rhylie asked knowingly.
“Just some batteries.”
“If I say yes, will you stop taking creepy photos of strangers? There were kids in the last one. I don’t want you to go to jail.”
“At least there, I’d be guaranteed a bed. Shall I say you’re an accomplice?” I laughed.
Her boots stopped click-clacking on the pavement, and she showcased every frustration as she turned to me.
“Chill. I was only joking.” I held up my hands in defense. “But I do think you’re exaggerating, given the context of my pictures.” I didn’t wait for an answer, heading in the direction of the store that I knew would sell what I needed.
***
The cluttered store was busy with things I could waste money on if I had any to waste. But it was quiet of people, with only one or two passing me by as I scouted through the packs of batteries, trying to work out the difference between the almost three-dollar ones and the ones that cost ten dollars. Rhylie had wandered off to another aisle after insisting I get the cheaper ones, hunting for something inexpensive and easy to eat tonight.
“You look very perplexed for someone just buying some batteries.” A voice came up behind me.
It didn’t belong to anyone I knew but to a man standing close enough to be my shadow, his dark clothes making his appearance fitting to that role.
I turned to see him, and only when my nose brushed his dark suit, taking in his scent of ash and amber, did he step back. He was in his early thirties, attractive-ish, I guess. But I didn’t feel the need to look at him for longer than a second.
My head dropped subconsciously back down to the two options in my cold hands that peeped out from my padded jacket as I debated my options. “I want to make a good choice.”
“Are they for this?” he asked, his fingers lifting and dropping my camera strap as it hung around my neck.
I nodded, feeling minorly unnerved that he’d touched me.
“Understandable. After all, you never know when you’ll spot a celebrity.”
He nodded at my purse, the rockstar’s face still peeping out. The creases made it look like Remington frowned at the man, and I almost laughed, pretending to myself that he was getting jealous over another guy talking to me.
“You know he’s in town, right?”
My head bobbed again, hints of hope lighting up my face. “Exactly. I could run into him at any moment.” I beamed.
