Page 6 of Dandelions and Smoke

I know I’m rambling, carrying on, and giving way too many details. Most people want a short answer, something straight to the point, but that’s not how my mind works. Instead of looking confused or overwhelmed like most people do when I start talking about things like this, Chief looks fully captivated. His eyes aren’t glazed over like I’m used to, so I keep going.

“And they do. They survive. They grow until they transform and spread. Those fields of white fluff? They start as those yellow dandelions, and when they’re fully grown, they can float away as far as, like, five hundred miles.”

I take a sip of my seltzer, needing to catch my breath. “Can you imagine that? The world tells you that you’re not supposed to be here, and instead of listening, you show it exactly what you’re capable of. No one saw its beauty when it was just a little yellow weed, but those fluff balls on sticks? People search for them. They pluck them and make wishes, blowing their seeds into the wind, spreading them until they multiply and start all over again. And they do this all while bringing others hope that their wishes may actually come true.”

Chief doesn’t say anything once I’ve finished, and slowly my shoulders begin to drop. Anxiety fills me, my stomach flipping like it has so many times before when I’ve said too much or spoken too fast. It’s true that most of the time I don’t care what others think, but I’m human, and this isn’t something I always have control of. ADHD doesn’t care if others can keep up with all the trains leaving the station in my mind. It’s just who I am.

“I’m sorry, I tend to get carried away when something excites me. I can be a lot sometimes and⁠—”

“Stop,” he says, moving his arm from under my hand.

My breath catches nervously, but instead of pulling away completely, he surprises me by sliding his fingers between mine. I feel myself relax as a warm smile fills his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You should never, ever apologize for being passionate about something. I can’t say I’ve ever given much thought to dandelions before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever given anything that much thought before.”

He grins, and my head dips as I laugh.

“But,” he continues. “I can tell you I won’t ever look at them the same way again.” He pauses and turns his attention to our hands intertwined together. He moves his hand so that our palms are against each other’s, and we both laugh at the size difference. “I wish there were more people in this world who spoke about things with as much vigor as you do. You’re like a breath of fresh air, which is something I really needed tonight.”

His voice drops, his gratitude laced with an underlying sadness that I can’t help but notice.

“That’s me,” I say with a shimmy and a smile, trying to lighten his mood. “I’m like the oxygen mask that drops in an airplane going down. I might not be able to save the plane, but at least I can help until someone else figures it out.”

His brows come together, and he grabs his stomach with his other hand as a laugh bellows out of him. “Does that make me the one on this plummeting airplane?”

I grin, but I don’t answer, because the truth is I think he is, and I want to know what’s going on, why he’s on this metaphorically plummeting plane to begin with, but I don’t want to rush him into telling me. I want to distract him from it, but I also want to help him through it… and I don’t even know what it is.

Or if there even is an it… But who am I kidding? I’m rarely wrong about these things.

“Alright, so where did you come from? I mean, I’m assuming you’re over twenty-one since you’re here.” He looks down at my drink for the first time and blanches. “Wait. What are you drinking?”

“Seltzer?” I answer with a question of my own, unclear on the problem.

“Oh God, don’t tell me it’s because you’re not twenty-one.”

I can’t help the surprised laugh that escapes me as I consider messing with him, but it looks like he’s about to panic and run, so I cut him a break instead.

“Relax,” I say with a reassuring pat on his arm. “I swear, I’m definitely over twenty-one. I actually just celebrated my twenty-second birthday on the first.”

“You were born on April Fools’ Day?”

“Yup,” I say, popping the ‘p’ and looking away to take a long pull from my straw. “Pretty fitting, actually. I’m the biggest joke that the universe ever played on my mother,” I admit, using humor to mask a sad truth.

Even though I’m wearing a smile that most see and believe, Chief’s eyes narrow like he knows better.

“Well, that’s not being very nice to yourself.” He tilts his head, looking at me with the kind of tenderness that makes me want to take back every cruel thing I’ve ever said about myself.

“I guess it isn’t, but I did promise you honesty,” I counter. “It’s okay, I promise. And to answer your other question, I’m from Florida.”

“Florida?” His eyes widen as he jerks back, like I’ve surprised him. “I should have known you’d be from the Sunshine State.”

“Speaking of sunshine,” I say, grateful for the subject change, even if it’s comically about the weather. “Why is it so cold here? Like, are you people okay? It’s April, and it feels like I’ve driven into the middle of February.”

I look down at myself for emphasis, the flannel wrapped around my waist being the only ‘jacket’ I own.

“You drove all the way here?”

“Sure did.”