Chapter Eight: A Pizza Birthday
December, 2000
Today she has what looks like a small forest growing in her still-too-thin hair. “Don’t. Say. A word.” She grumbles and goes back to trying to pluck out the foliage.
“How did you manage to fall into a bush while locked in prison?”
You’ve been waiting for half an hour now for the guards to check the food- they’ve let you go in ahead and given you extra time with her because of it.
Time that looks like it might be spent watching her de-knot that bird’s nest you used to find attractive.
Ok, ok, so you still find it attractive. Which is weird.
“The Man In Charge said some-”
“God?” you ask, genuinely confused.
She stares at you, “The warden asked me to help put up Christmas decorations. Seein’ as I can hang off the pipes on the ceiling and don’t have to use a ladder or nothin’…” She edges away slightly, “do you really think God talks to me?”
Angel, Faith, God… maybe you should have been dating him? ‘Riley’ didn’t really fit the pattern. Not very religious. Or festive around the holiday season.
“Isn’t that what he’s meant to do to prisoners? Have you not found God yet? Does this count against you in a parole hearing?” She chuckles along with you.
“I think I’m safe for now, B. Got no hearing coming up for… nine years, four months and twenty-eight days- not that I’m counting or anything.” You make various noises of agreement, “He’s got time to waste.”
Nine years is a long time. In nine years time you’ll be… 28. Old. Really old. ‘Married with kids’ old. Speaking of which;
“I have something for you!”
She gives you a suspicious once-over “You do? If it’s not food or a CV I don’t want it. Remember that Christmas gift you got me? I still have the scars…”
“I thought we agreed to never mention that again?” Your eyes trace the thin white lines in between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand as it mists the glass.
“Scarred, B, scarred. I’m nev-” She cuts off as the door at the other end of Faith’s side of the room opens.
A matronly guard with her hair pulled back into a bun walks through carrying a battered pizza box. “Here you go girls. Sorry it took so long.” So long in fact all the other visitors have gone and you’d reluctantly eaten your own pizza.
“S’alright Margie.” Faith grins like a slightly manic hillbilly and just about snatches the pizza box away. “Skipped lunch.” She grunts at you, “Knew ya were coming.”
She flips the lid open and stares at the pizza oddly, tipping her head to one side and then the other. Margie winks at you through the glass, “Guess your girl knows you pretty well, huh Faithy?” Faith’s right eye twitches slightly.
You wait for her to finally look up from the ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ etched across the pizza in strips of bacon. (Never mind if her birthday was actually about a week and a half ago)
“Uh… B? What does HIDY IRIHDAY mea- oh wait, I get it.” She grins cheekily, “Still, bit of effort mighta been nice.”
A few of those vulgar hand gestures she taught you are retuned.
“Point taken. And… thanks for the pizza. Oh, and rememberin’ my birthday- actually, how did you remember my birthday? I’ve never told you when it is.” She picks the bacon off and sucks on it in a way that should be gross.
“Oh Faithy, Faithy, Faithy…” Her eye twitches again, “My best friend is a hacker.” You wink, “Plus Lena told me.”
She pauses with her mouth half open and a dripping pizza slice hovering in mid-air, “Lena the ice-cream girl?”
“The one and only. She’s sweet, gives Dawn money off and… asked me out.”
Faith gawps, pizza slice long forgotten. “She- Lena? But- but- Lena’s hot! And I’m hot! And you like her…?” You nod sympathetically, “Why didn’t she ever ask me out?!”
“Hey!” She chuckles at your affronted scowl, “What am I? Hideous?”
“Obviously, I wouldn’t have said yes- was too busy chasing after this cute blond chick. Still… woulda been nice to be asked.” Faith goes back to munching happily, “So what did Corn-fed think?”
“Actually… he doesn’t know. Riley and I broke up.”
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
And something that looks an awful lot like tumbleweed.
“Faith?”
Nothing.
This is oddly like the time Faith took you to a college party and you both somehow got dragged into a game of ‘I’ve Never’. Faith got drunk, you stayed mildly tipsy and she volunteered to help you try new things. Like skinny-dipping. That was a good night. The part that reminds you of now is the ‘watching Faith attempt to think of something to say’ bit. Her ‘I’ve Never’s had all been fake, she confessed to you later, as she couldn’t think of something that wouldn’t make you cry.
She sucks in a strip of bacon and then pulls it back out slowly, making sure the grease rubs off on her lips so she can lick them. It’s a good job she has such disgusting habits else you’d be tempted to break through the glass and… take her or… something… like… that… man, you suck! The flirty half-smile and flippy hair comprise pretty much your entire flirting arsenal.
Faith finally makes her mind up; “I’d say sorry but we both know I’m a terrible liar.”
“That’s ok.” To be honest, you’re not entirely sure why it hurts so much. Only that it does. You loved him and he left you, like practically every other man in you life. And Faith.
Bitch.
Oh God, you’re going to make a shrink a lot of money some day.
“You know, you are allowed to be upset in front of me B- I won’t think any different of you. Riley was your boy” She presses her marginally scarred hand up to the glass again and you cover it with your own. Her sleeve slips down to show her bony forearm and the tiny red dots circling it. “Had a fight with some holly.” She smirks, catching you looking “I won o’course.”
“Of course.” You smile at each other companionably… like an old couple, separated by bulletproof glass and a life sentence. At least you’re the pretty half- she still hasn’t put back on all the weight she lost four months ago but there’s a rosy tint to her cheeks and her eyes no longer look so sunken. She’s seventeen to your nineteen and has less than a year left in Stockton’s Youth Correctional Facility before being moved in with the adults.
You think that if this were a movie you would have had a beautiful teen romance first. You’d have met accidentally- bumped into each other in the street- maybe you were the new girl this time? She would have caught your eye but played it cool, shown you around but kept her secrets. The two of you would click; the Valley Girl out of her element and the party girl with the fragile heart. Then there’d be a sleepover; you’d confess feelings, kiss and… stuff (God, why can’t you even think it?). It would be a secret for some reason. Or maybe not, maybe it would just be something you wanted to keep to yourself, something just between you two. Your family, or hers, or maybe both would try to keep you apart but you’d fight to be together because it’s young love. It would end horribly of course, bleeding hearts and huge fights- maybe she’d start sleeping around?
Then, one day, you’re walking down the street- or you’re on patrol- and you see this girl. She’s older now, seventeen, and cynical, detached, but you know it’s her straight away. There might be a fight, there might be secrets, but in the end love will win out. You mother will love her, Dawn will love her, she’ll move in. The End. Happy families forever.
You look over and chuckle; she’s very, very slowly chewing the last slice, savouring the taste with an air of absolute concentration. It’s sweet and it’s beautiful.
She makes you feel like your old self again. Which is sad. When did ‘new Buffy’ take over and how can you kill her?
“B? You ok? Lookin’ kinda sad…”
“I…” She watches you drag your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want to know what you look like in the morning.”
Faith laughs quietly and blushes; she peeks up at you through her lashes “um… it’s not so pretty.”
“I don’t care.” You beam at her. What you’d give for some regularity in your damn life…
“You know, B? I think you miss the idea of normalcy rather than the Cardboard Cut-out himself.” For a brief minute you’re startled by her insight and wonder if she can actually read minds. You feel a little jealous before you remember how much it sucked to actually read minds.
“That was…” You pause, “clever. When did you become so insightful?”
She makes one of those grunting noises she’s so good at- this one meaning something along the lines of ‘I’ve always been a genius. Duh’.
“Well…?”
“Ok fine. Angel came over the other day- first time in ages. Brought me some books. Real deep books.”
You snigger at how embarrassed she looks, “And what? You ate them?”
Faith barely graces you with a glare. “First off, fuck you I can read. Secondly, he went on and on and on and on and on and… on… and… o-”
“I get the point.”
“-About how Riley just isn’t the one for you, too ‘normal’. Not a ‘Champion working for the good off the people’.” She makes her voice impossibly deeper and stretches her arm out as she intones, her face a prefect match of Angel’s ‘brooding’. “Here comes the really deep bit; ‘Buffy and I had a love that defies boundaries- a love that can never be escaped from, Faith, we are eternal. This- this boy will never truly know how dark her heart can be’.” She dissolves into giggles and you smile along with her but inside you feel more like smacking your head against the table.
Tortured love sucks.
Maybe you should change ‘The Faith and Buffy Movie’… how about you just meet in a coffee house one day and fall in love? No parents, no friends, no problems. Actually, Faith is still too much of a kid to drink coffee- she hates the taste. Lena’s ice cream parlour? You both know Lena but not each other so she sets you up but then there are all these comedy misundersta- Is it really that hard for you to think of something simple?
The table meets your head after all, “Why is my life so complicated?” You mumble into the phone. “I hate men. Men suck.”
“Babe, I swear to God if I never see another Butch Mama with prison tats again it’ll be too soon…” You laugh quietly to yourself at how often she says things like that, “You know… If you got y’self banged up we could help each other out.” She winks, “You could be my bitch.”
You choke on air. Once the coughing and unladylike spluttering have died down you glower through the glass. “Um, you’re kidding right? That doesn’t actually sound as fun as you think it does.”
“No, seriously. I’d… wash your hair and… stuff… or are you meant to wash my hair? I’ll ask Ramona in the next cell over, she’s got like five different bitches… maybe she can lend me one for the week. Y’know, for practise.”
“I d-” a loud noise cuts you off and you both wait, rolling your eyes, until it stops, “Saved by the bell. I’ll leave you to Ramona. After all, once you’re out, you’re mine, bitch!” She throws you a mock shocked expression before blowing you a kiss and standing up to be re-cuffed.
