She looked up at Jake. He was smiling at her but with just the curve of his mouth and with his eyes, which literally sparkled as the sky brightened, the sun breaking free of a cloud. He wasn’t teasing or making fun of her. 

“I’ve honestly never looked at it that way,” she said, “Just as a major limitation. I miss out on a lot.”

Expressing that much truth to another human being made Flora feel suddenly very vulnerable. She hadn’t meant to say it. 

“But thank you,” she continued quickly. 

“You’re Indian?”

“Half,” she said, surprised by the question. “My dad.”

“That’s cool,” said Jake. 

“I guess.” She shrugged. “I don’t see him much these days. My parents are divorced and he travels for business.”

Why was she telling him all this? Bearing her soul to Jake. She barely knew him, the boy outside her window, living in a world she couldn’t be a part of.

“My dad travels for business too. He’s not around much,” said Jake.

His eyes dulled ever so slightly as he said this. 

“That’s gotta be hard.”

Jake looked into the sky and took a deep breath. 

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She wanted to know. The half, the whole of it. Flora could have stayed in that moment forever. But her skin was prickling, her throat starting to contract. She could feel her face and limbs blossoming and swelling as her body responded to the simple elements of nature, enjoyed by most people, potentially lethal to her. It wasn’t fair. She was like a friggin’ time bomb. 

“I gotta go. Thanks for telling me about Mrs. Johnson.”

She didn’t have a choice. She turned and walked back home, as slowly as she could manage, given the price she knew she’d pay for those few minutes outside. 

“I’ll see you around!” called Jake.