Once Fisher got Ita outside, he sat down on the front steps and indicated she should do the same. "Actually," he informed her, "shutting up could be considered a way of communicating." He met her eyes, which were a pretty blue and wet with tears. "Your mom just said that, although she didn't say 'shutting up'. Verbatim, she said 'not speaking'. But you get the idea." Fisher looked out onto the school grounds, listening to Ita's parents as they gave him various messages to convey. The two of them were chattering like rabbits, so he gave them a minute to decide what they wanted to send.
"Um, firstly... they're really proud of you." He looked deeply into Ita's eyes, sort of driving the point home. He didn't want her to cry anymore, because there wasn't any need. Death wasn't a barrier, just a hurdle. "You mom says you've grown into the woman she always knew you would be." He looked past Ita, studying her mom carefully. Most people with deceased relatives liked hearing descriptions, to make sure their loved ones were still as they remembered them. "Her hair is really long," he said, "and her eyes look sad. But usually they look happy, like you did before I... said anything..." His voice trailed off.
Suddenly he jerked his shoulder, as though someone had just shoved him. "Oh, right. Okay. Your dad is grinning like a dope and wants to know if there's someone he needs to-" *quotation mark fingers* "have words with." Fisher smirked. "I guess he thinks you've been after some boy?"