My eyes strain to avoid looking directly at
the yellow liquid. Her eyes avoid mine as guilt and shame covers her face.
Small talk continues as I think about it, and she wonders if I saw it. A
brochure is repositioned to shield the cup, but it is too late - I know what it
is. The translucent white cups are everywhere at sporting events. Some people
stack their empty cups to showcase their consumption. I am embarrassed,
embarrassed for her, I want to leave, to have never been there. The
conversation floats around everything but the obvious. An uneasy silence
descends upon us as I back away. We promise to call each other and exchange
good-byes. She turns and walks away as I stand and watch. I want to say that I
won't tell, but then she'd know I know even though she suspects and I know she
suspects. Disappointment and anger race through my veins, I want her to stop, I
want it gone, it is too much to handle.
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