THESE THORN KISSES by Saffron A. Kent

Author:Saffron A. Kent [Kent, Saffron A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Prose Press, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“We’re home, Miss Littleton.”

The voice wakes me up and I realize that the car has stopped moving.

Blinking, I look out from the window into the darkness and find that we’re indeed home. “Right. Sorry.” I straighten up in my seat. “Thanks, Charles.”

Charles, our driver, nods in the front seat and I pick up my backpack from the carpeted floor of my dad’s car, ready to get out. But as soon as I open the door, I remember something and stop.

“Oh, I forgot this,” I say to Charles and dig into my backpack, looking for something. “I made this really cute sketch for Janie. Martha said that she’s into Spider-Man these days.” I find the sketch that I had framed today. “Tell Janie that she made a great choice. But Iron Man is the man. I refuse to watch any more Marvel movies because they killed him in the last one.”

I mean, Tom Holland is great but Robert Downey Jr. is a total dream boat. That beard, that arrogance. His dry sarcastic remarks. That only comes with age and experience.

Charles takes the sketch from me for his granddaughter Janie; Martha’s his daughter and one of our staff members with perfect hands and one of my very good friends.

Charles looks at it and smiles. “This is wonderful. But you didn’t have to do that.”

I flush with pleasure; Charles, and of course Martha, have always been supportive of my art. Even so, I didn’t start showing off my sketches and making stuff for Janie — even though I’ve always wanted to — until I was sent to St. Mary’s and learned what acceptance looks like.

So now I try to make things for Janie every opportunity I get.

Shrugging, I say, “Meh. It’s no problem. I hope Janie likes it though.” I point to the sketch. “I also made her a tiny Iron Man in the back. Just to, you know, nudge her in the right direction.”

Charles laughs. “I’ll be sure to tell her that. I know Janie will love it. Appreciate it, Miss Littleton.”

Picking up my backpack, I open the door of the car wider, ready to hop out. “Just so you know, my offer still stands.” Charles frowns and I explain, “To call me Wyn instead of Miss Littleton. In case you forgot.”

“After you reminding me about twenty to thirty times in the past year alone? Of course not, Miss Littleton.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Ha. Ha. Goodnight, Charles.”

He chuckles. “See you Monday, Miss Littleton.”

Yes, Monday.

When I’ll get to go back to my actual home, St. Mary’s.

Waving goodbye to Charles, I finally climb out of the car and shut the door behind me.

I sling the backpack over my shoulders, ready to hit the shower and wash this long, awful day off my body.

The only thought that’s keeping me going right now is that it’s done. What my parents wanted me to do and had me miss school for. Now I won’t ever have to do it again. And on Monday Charles will be here at around six in the morning and he’ll take me back to St.

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