Young Writers Society

Chapter 2

An hour later, the old jeep was pulling into the flea market. As the car rolled across the dirt parking lot to one of the shadier spots, Cass looked out her window at the sprawling field the tables were set up in. She had been to the location several times in the past to go to the annual town fair, but she had never been there when it was set up like this. The entire sight was a hodgepodge of miscellaneous things thrown together. From the little she could see from the parking lot, it was clear that there was a large variety of wares being sold. Fresh produce, clothes, jewelry – if she could think of it, it was probably sitting on one of the tables.

The steady stream of people wandering throughout the makeshift aisles lacked the same diversity. With the exception of one or two families and their young children, it appeared that Aspen and her were some of the youngest shoppers at the market. Everyone appeared to be well into adulthood.

She remained where she was even after Aspen parked the jeep. Dealing with people her own age was daunting enough. Adults were an entirely different problem. Even when they treated her like the adult she almost was, she still couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was somehow inferior because they had a better grasp on their lives.

Aspen suddenly flung her door open. Cass, startled, spun around to see her best friend in the middle of hopping out onto the parking lot. A cloud of dirt flung up as her feet hit the ground. Save for a brief cough, she seemed unfazed by the dust in the air.

Cass watched as she started to close the door, only to open it back up and reach for the purse nestled between their seats. Her fingers brushed up against the leather. Her arm was almost long enough to reach the purse, but not quite. Aspen let out a heavy sigh and held out her hand. “Could you pass me that?”

She nodded and did as asked.

“Thanks,” Aspen said, grinning. “Would have been bad if I had forgotten that.”

She popped back out of the car.

Cass, getting her own purse from the back, followed suit. Though she wasn't exactly excited about interacting with all of the people in the flea market, she was eager to spend the day with Aspen.

She joined Aspen on the other side of the car.

They began to walk towards the field. There was no official entrance to the flea market, so Cass lingered behind her best friend and let Aspen guide her to one of the aisles.

Cass was immediately bombarded by the overwhelming smell of leather and tobacco. It was an interesting combination, and not what she would have expected of a flea market. She took in the other smells interwoven with the two strongest ones, but she couldn't tell what exactly they were – possibly spices from some of the food being sold several tables down, or maybe the mustiness of the old books in the table they had just passed.

Aspen was taking things surprisingly slow. Rather than hurry from table to table like Cass had expected she would, she stood in front of each table they passed, looked through the wares being sold and exchanged pleasantries with the seller.

She was currently standing in front of a table selling an odd collection of things: car parts, old movies missing parts of their covers, jewelry and even a couple of things of canned food. She couldn't see the correlation between the items being sold, but it seemed like this was a common theme among the vendors. It seemed like they were selling whatever they had on hand. She guessed that was why Aspen was waiting for so long in front of each table. It wasn't like shopping at a mall; you need more than a quick glance to figure out what was being sold and if it was something you'd be interested in.

Cass started to dig through the jewelry box as Aspen and the vendor's conversation shifted from the weather to the movies on the table. Unable to find anything other than a seemingly endless pile of decorative pins, she awkwardly stood behind Aspen for the rest of the conversation. It ended a minute later when Aspen turned to see Cass standing behind her. Saying goodbye to the vendor, Aspen pulled her aside.

“You okay?” she asked. “You've been quiet since we got here.”

Cass looked down at the ground. “I've just been thinking.”

“About what?” Cass hesitated. In turn, Aspen asked, “Are you thinking about the conversation we had back at Dunkin?”

She shook her head. While that might have been on her mind, that had little to do with how she currently felt. She didn't need a mysterious set of dreams to make her feel anxious in a large group of people. That was something Aspen was usually quite in tune with, but she was understandably distracted by the flea market going on around them. Cass wouldn't have thought that it would bother her then, but it was different when Aspen hadn't be aware of her feelings in the first place.

She didn't want to ruin this day for her.

“Cassie, I know we haven't been best friends for that long. Hell, we didn't even meet each other until last year.” Aspen grabbed onto Cass' hands and gave them a tight squeeze. “But I'm here for you. If something's wrong, you can let me know. Okay? Don't keep it in.”

There was no way to get out of telling her, was there? Even if she tried to avoid it, Aspen would just continue to ask her why she was acting different. Cass took a deep breath. Pulling her hands away and putting them in the pockets of her shorts, she looked up at Aspen. “There's a lot of people here. I'm not sure if I can handle all of them...”

Aspen glanced at the aisle they were in, her gaze traveling from shopper to vendor to shopper again as she took in Cass' answer. When she finally looked back at her, she was giving her a reassuring grin. “Don't worry,” she earnestly promised. “I won't leave your side, and I'll make sure we find some tables that have things both of us are interested in so you're thoroughly distracted. How does that sound?”

Cass thought over the suggestion.

A small smile began to creep across her face. “I think that will help.”

“Then it's a plan,” Aspen decided.

She proceeded to grab onto Cass' wrist and give it a sharp tug, pulling her back out into the aisle as she started to head towards the next vendor. Though her discomfort didn't magically go away after the conversation or the ones that followed, having Aspen by her side made her feel just a little bit better.

And that was all that she needed to enjoy herself.