Blondie’s voice rises above the nearby chatter, “Just lick it off.”
She tilts her head, smiles shyly, “I’d rather just wash my hands, thanks.”
The table of people watches her go with amused, frustrated smiles on their faces.
“Some people just don’t like it. It’s like an OCD kind of thing… Is she OCD?” Asks the brunette.
“She’s never liked it.”
Heads turn sharply to where the voice drifted over from. The woman continues on, collecting their empty glasses as she speaks, “As a kid, she couldn’t stand it. The slightest thing on her fingers and she had to be taken to wash her hands. Everything would have to stop until her hands were clean… like she couldn’t focus on anything other than that.”
The elder speaks, “I didn’t realise you’d known her that long… or that you knew her at all, really…”
A smile, small and troubled flashes briefly before she leaves with the empties, a quiet, “Yeah” can only just be heard as she turns her back.
Hands now clean, she makes her way back to her chair, noticing everyone at the table is eyeing her.
The brunette asks, “Didn’t realise you knew Caroline..?”
She looks up, making brief eye contact. Her previous smile turning sad and troubled, “Yeah.”