The dead

He started to see her every Wednesday. Monday and Thursday he had tennis practice, Tuesday was student council and on Fridays he went home to the village for the weekend. But Wednesdays were for her. He'd sit outside on the ground until she came out or he'd tap on the kitchen window, but each week, every time he'd be there.

Nestra waited for cook to scream at her, to slap her or just kick her out the kitchen. She hadn't meant to drop the plate, but this was the 5th time and cook wasn't known for being forgiving. And then it came. A harsh hit to the cheek and Nestra took a step back. It wasn't that hard but the right side of her face burned and her head began throbbing. "It won't happen again," she mumbled and begrudgingly went back to the sink. She fumbled around with the plates for a while, saucers nervous in her trembling hands and teacups frightened by her careless fingers. Nestra made a point to set them as hard in their cupboards as possible and to make sure they were barely clean before she was finished with them. Because she probably deserved that slap, and she knew it but that didn't mean she couldn't be salty about it.

Then she looked up and there he was. He stood in front of her with only a wall and a pane of glass separating them. A mischievous grin across his face, arms crossed and his blonde hair all ruffled and messy. F*cking Wednesdays.

And suddenly she was angry. Angry that she'd been hit, angry that her life had been ripped away from her, angry she was stuck working as a cleaner and angry that he just stood there smiling, a world away from her. Angry he only cared on Wednesdays.

The girl rushed out the kitchen, tears of bitterness and embarrassment started to leak from her eyes. How long had he been standing there? Did he see the whole thing, broken plate and all? Did he think I was stupid for just taking it? Am I stupid for just taking it? She thought back to his smirk. Was he laughing at me?

"You know you've scared all the crows away."

Eli. Her mind had been racing a mile a minute, and she thought she'd ran far away from the kitchen to the woods at least, but they were barely outside the garden where she and Eli fed the birds each week. He was right. The place was empty.

"Never thought I'd see you get put in your place like that Nestra," she could barely see him through her tears and he still looked beautiful. But she could hear him and his tone was playful but to her it sounded patronizing. She gave him a light punch on the shoulder Stupid boy.

"Ow!" he pouted, feigning hurt, "You vile woman." She glared at him and started to head back to the kitchen. There was still work to do, plates to smash.

"Hey where're you going Miss Dadiani?" he called out.

"I'm not in the mood Eli. Go bother some other poor girl."

"Oh but Nestra, I'm afraid I can't do that" he sighed, lengthening out each word, "You know why?"

Nestra looked him in the face. Her tears had run out and she could see him clearly now. In the fading daylight his hair looked golden and the dimming sun made his beautiful features stand out even more. His wide eyes were filled with boyish curiosity and mischief, his nose was crooked with a small bump in the middle and that childish grin that she'd grown to love and loathe over the weeks.

"Why?" she'd tried to sound annoyed. It didn't work.

"Because it's Wednesday."

Of course, f*cking Wednesdays.