Tinkerbelle, who crowded close to them both until they were in a small triangle.
“Breathe with me,” Ominotago demanded in a way that brokered no argument.
Wendy tried to calm her racing heart, but it wasn’t quite working. She was breathing entirely too fast. Distantly, outside herself, she felt stupid and childish. She had been fine on the bus, seconds ago, and she’d held it together for the majority of the night, but somehow now she wanted to curl inside herself until she was small enough to disappear.
Ominotago squeezed Wendy’s hands hard enough that it shocked her out of her own head and back into the warm brown of Ominotago’s gaze. Wendy focused on this stranger’s face as she mimicked the speed of her breaths. Ominotago’s eyebrows, black and graceful like they had been painted on with ink; her nose that spread seamlessly into her cheekbones; the stubborn jut of her chin and the girlish curve of her mouth; her blue-and-purple-and-pink blush, blending like watercolors, lovely like nothing Wendy had ever seen.
Tinkerbelle’s beautiful girlfriend, broad-shouldered and strong, taking her time teaching Wendy how to breathe in the middle of the street, was wasting valuable time with someone she’d just met as the boys disappeared into an alley around the corner. Ominotago’s hands were warm. Wendy could feel how they were calloused from playing sports and thought about Tinkerbelle’s small, impossibly soft hands. Wendy broke Ominotago’s gaze to look over at the other girl. Tinkerbelle’s head was bowed as she matched Ominotago’s breaths, the glow of the streetlights reflected dramatically off the gold glitter she’d applied around her eyes. Wendy looked back at Ominotago and realized she was breathing at the same pace as Ominotago, Wendy’s shoulders naturally having fallen from being pinched around her ears.
Ominotago nodded slightly and loosened her grip on Wendy’s hands until she was holding them as sweetly as if they’d been friends for years.
“Tinkerbelle told me what happened,” she said seriously. “You have had a very long night.”
“Y-yeah.” Wendy’s voice broke and she cleared her throat. “Yeah, I have. I really just want to go home now.”
Ominotago nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. But the night is going to get a bit longer.”
Now that Wendy was relaxed enough to stop hyperventilating, she was too unguarded to stop tears from springing to her eyes at hearing that.
“Tinkerbelle told me you just arrived in the city and that you haven’t even started school yet. You shouldn’t be here; you should be at home,” Ominotago said, firm and resolute. “You didn’t deserve to be lured outside, to be pressured into changing train cars, to be kidnapped, or to be held in that man’s home. You also didn’t deserve to be around explosions or be in a position to make a decision about how to handle police in a community where you know no one, and trust very few of the people around you.”
Something wild and anguished opened up like a flower in Wendy’s chest, and suddenly she found herself crying in the middle of the street. She didn’t deserve any of this at all, and it was so refreshing to hear anyone in this group of people admit that out loud. Nothing on earth could have prepared her for what had happened in the past three hours. Even though she was extremely aware that making the decision to leave home was entirely her own horrible choice, Ominotago seemed like a normal person with a normal perspective, so it was validating to hear her describe the entire night so bluntly.
Ominotago let go of Wendy’s hands and gripped her by the shoulders instead. “You don’t deserve any of those things, but tonight is important to everyone here. Curly has been waiting for this night for a year, Nibs has been waiting for three. Even my friends have been waiting for months. Now, I don’t know you, Wendy.” Ominotago tilted up her chin in challenge. “But from what Tinkerbelle has told me, I know that you’re daring, I know that you’re clever, and I know that you are strong, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. However, you intruded on something we have been working on, and we need you to keep it together. For the rest of us.”
Wendy looked over at Tinkerbelle, who nodded back at her firmly.
“Wendy promised,” Tinkerbelle said. “And she spit-shook.”
Wendy remembered having to touch Tinkerbelle’s saliva-covered hand, and it was ridiculous enough to make her stop crying as she wondered at the intensity with which Tinkerbelle and Ominotago took such a gesture