She twists her mouth into a smile at the dulcet smell of French pastries in a kiosk we pass by leaving the subway. I ask her what she would do if she had all the money in the world. She looks back at the macarons behind us, squinting her eyes and then tells me to ask her another question. I open the door for her to the outter world and she looks at me silently knowing something. Her body language strong and confident but acquiescing to my gesture. I feel placated and yet I know that was not her intention. The girl I never spoke more than 3 words to as we occupied the same rooms for years. It’s like she’s been holding an important message for me all this time and I’m aching to hear it. And then, there it is. She tells me what I’ve always known deep down but felt undeserving of. A warmth in my belly. Our laughter dimly heard in the rain.