5 : Garlic Chicken Wings

     I detoured upstairs to put down my bag. Wouldn’t want it in the way of my mother-daughter reunion. As I slinked silently into my room, bright yellow sunshine greeted me. Ah, what a wonderful view. I threw aside my bag carelessly and eagerly walked through the glass doors that lead to my terrace.

     My white sofa-slash-lounge chair was still there, complete with Mum’s homemade, extra-cuddly, extra-colorful throw pillows. The quilt made for me by my grandma still covered the sofa’s back. It’s very comfortable, made of soft cotton fabric with patches of different shapes. There’s a big red heart at the center. I used to sleep outside during hot summer nights, or when Bridget and Anna are sleeping over, we like to hang out here and just talk all night. The sofa and the quilt are perfect for those moments.

     A smile crept to my lips as I leaned on the rail and admired the view. It’s so peaceful here, so relaxing. I don’t know why only three months ago, I couldn’t wait to get out of here.

     Clang!

     I turned around and screamed just in time to see a bat coming down straight for my head. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the excruciating pain.

     “Oh my god! Allanah!”

     My brain didn’t register the voice at first. But as I opened one eye, I saw a middle-aged woman in a floral shirt tucked in beige pants, holding a bat over her head, poised to strike again.

     It was Angie, my little brother’s nanny.

     “Angie! What the-what do you think you’re doing?!”

     “Al! Oh my, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t recognize you! I just cleaned your room, you know dusts, and I know I shut the door when I left and I came back and it’s ajar and I saw someone standing there! I thought you were a burglar or something!”

     She lowered the bat on the floor and lunged forward to give me an airtight hug.

     “Angie, your bat didn’t kill me, but your hug will.”

     She let go, chuckling, and moved a step backward to take a good look at me. I stroke a pose. And she laughed some more. I joined in, too.

     Angie has been Kyle’s (my little brother) nanny since he was four months old. I was seven then, and she kind of nannied for both of us then. She’s a very nice woman, still single, but not irritable and uptight as all other middle-aged singles out there. She’s like our second mother.

     Angie was hired then when my mum was still working. She quit work when Kyle turned 1, and resumed when he started first grade. Last year, Mum decided to open up her own business and work from home. It was a small business, a gift shop/flower shop in town. The income wasn’t as big as her salary, so she talked to Angie about letting her go. Kyle was so upset, so Angie said it was okay for her not to get any salary, as long as she’s allowed to stay with us, and maybe even help out with the household bills! She’s the nicest lady on earth, and she’s truly part of our family.

     I extra like her because she gives me extra allowance when I’m short.

     “A burglar? At 10 am in broad daylight?” I asked, sitting on the sofa.

     “Well, I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and you can’t be too careful, right?”

     She sat down beside me and wrapped her arms around my shoulder.

     “So, how’s the big college girl? What’s it been like?”

     “So-so. We got a pile of homework on our first day, but I’m managing. And I’ve got a nice roommate so everything’s pretty good. How’s everybody?”

     As if on cue, my mum burst into the terrace, spatula in one hand.

     “What’s all the noise? Allanah!”

     “Hey, Mum.”

     I got up and hugged her. She smelt of the garden and garlic fried chicken. Mmm.

     “I was planning to surprise you. I guess I did, by the looks of it. Garlic fried chicken?”

     “I got alarmed, more like. I was cooking and heard screaming from up here,” she replied, hugging even tighter than Angie did. What’s it with old people and bone-crushing hugs?

     “Mum, air.”

     I gasped for breath when she released me. Like Angie, she stepped back and scrutinized me.

     “I see you’re still wearing that-that ratty thing-your shoes. What do you call it again?”

     “These are Chuck Taylors, Mum. And they’re not ratty. They’re vintage.”

     “More like Chuck-them-out-Taylors to me.”

     Silence.

     “It’s really good to see you, Mum,” I said. And it really did feel good seeing her. I can see her eyes watering, and I couldn’t help but feel mine prickling with tears, too. My mum and I are best of friends, and unlike all the other people who preferred the freedom of dorms to their homes, well, I prefer being with my mum, arguing with her about everything in the world. Call me a baby, fine, but I’m after all a small town girl.

     Mum lunged for me again and locked me in her arms. But before I could tell her to let go, she held both hands up as if being confronted by the police.

     “Alright, alright, no hugs then, big college girl. So, I know you’re coming ‘cause Bridget called me yesterday. I’m making garlic chicken wings for you to bring to the picnic.”

     “I know your chicken wings will kick the crap out of Bridget’s cook’s gourmet food.”

     The both of them agreed and we laughed as we made our way to the kitchen. There’s no better thing than eating fresh-from-the-pan garlic chicken wings made by my mum.

     Or is there?

4 : Matters of the Heart

     The second week of school was as torturous as the first. I miss my family, I miss my friends. I miss having my room and my en suite bathroom all to myself. I’m okay with the room sharing, I mean, Sam is really nice, but sharing the bathroom?! How am I supposed to do my “business” properly when I know that there’s someone waiting just outside the door for her turn? I can’t even scrub properly, let alone use excessive bath beauty products.

     Bridget just sent me a basket full of liquid soaps, salt scrub and body butter.

     Why would I want to put butter on myself?! I’m not a toast.

     Her note said that to use them to “make guys trail drool after you”. Yeah, right. As if smelling like “freshly picked strawberries” and having skin “as soft as a baby’s bottom” would help in my current situation. Now if she gave me a liposuction machine…then that would be different.

     History class was horrible. Not only does Professor “Swelly-Belly” Costello speak like a zombie, he gives quizzes worthy of bar exams! Who actually cares what happened in some river a hundred years ago? It’s the past, get over it.

     I’m actually mistaken about my History classmates being “heartless”. They’re actually pretty cool. They fall asleep in class like me anyway, and the geek of the class actually lets us copy her notes, so everything’s fine!
     
     My other classes are going well, too. Literature’s enjoyable; it makes me think. As usual, Math class is a hellhole for me, but I think I can manage a pass. The library is huge! I love just hanging out there and reading a random book and immersing myself in the quiet…

     The skateboard guy keeps on popping in my head.

     I wonder who he is. He’s nice, but not like the clean-cut niceness of Sam. He’s got this tough-guy thing going on. But he has a really sweet dimpled smile that breaks the tough-guy exterior.

     I wonder when I’ll get to see him again.

***

     The weekend came quickly, but it seemed like forever to me. Finally, I’m going to be home again! Oh how I want to just lie in my bed all day and chat with Mum and eat her homemade chicken chowder, which is by the way a blue ribbon winner in every cooking contest in our town! Then I can play with my little brother. He’s just turned ten over the summer and he’s thrilled to have finally reached double digits! He’s started to apply my dad’s aftershave after showering.

     Kids. I can remember when I used to wear my mum’s high heeled pumps and put on make up and strut about the house. I was so eager to grow up then. But now, three months away from being an adult, I’d give anything to stay seventeen forever. I’m a few years away from being shunned into the real world, away from my parents’ comfortable arms. And being in this vast place full of strangers, I’m just realizing how small and insignificant I am. I wish to remain a little child without a care in the world, and the only choices to make are what to have for breakfast or which ribbon to tie my hair with.

     Of course, there are also the matters of the heart…

     Three hours, a train ride and two bus rides later, I step out into our front porch. The fresh air felt good on my skin; I can feel my lungs clearing up already. All that pollution from the city clogged it. I can see Mum has maintained her rosebushes into perfection. The red brick path leading to our squeaky clean blue front door is littered with auburn leaves. Ah, fall. The most beautiful time of the year.

     I hitched up my duffel bag and jogged to the door. I decided against knocking. It’s better to surprise them, see what they’re up to while I’m gone. Slowly, I opened the door and crept in. It’s 10 am so the downstairs is empty. Mum’s probably out back tweaking the backyard. She’s obsessed with flowers.

          

3 : Buttons to Push

“…And there I was, standing there like an idiot, and then this girl came and sent me sprawling on the floor! I couldn’t be more embarrassed in my life!”

“(deafening laughter) Yeah, I can imagine. You sure looked like an idiot! Ha ha ha!”

“And my pig of a professor even joined in! What an ass.”

“Ha ha ha! A pig-ha ha ha-and an ass! Ha ha ha!”

“You’re no help at all Bridge. This is the time to give me some sympathy.”

“I sympathize with you, alright. But come on, it’s really funny! So what else is up? Any cute guys you know? And would like to let me know?”

“…”

“Allan!”

This is my friend Bridget. What’s up with her is always some new guy. Guess what part of a guy is up when she passes by…

“I’m thinking!”

“So? Think faster! They’re guys for chrissake! They’re not math problems!”

“Well, that depends. I sort of look at them as puzzles…”

A series of rapid knocks issued from the door and a head peeped in. The very graphic details of the event I just recounted to my dear friend Bridge suddenly came rushing back.

Eugh.

I hate reliving that nightmare.

“Hey, Al, d’you mind if I just nip in and freshen up a bit? A cute guy just asked me to a walk and I have nothing on… I know it’s your private room time and everything but…”

“Don’t be silly, Sam! It’s your room too. I would’ve locked the door if I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

The girl smiled gratefully and rushed into the room. That was Sam Lopez. The funny thing was, she was also late for History class last week on our first day. And we belong in the same class! She arrived about the same time as I did.

She tripped and bumped into me and we both landed on the floor.

As it turns out, she was supposed to arrive the night before our first day. She was vacationing with her family in Barbados, but their plane got caught up in some funk at the airport so they were delayed and arrived just in time for her to grab her books and hurdle towards History class.

I was surprised to see her with her not-quite-unpacked suitcase on the bed next to mine. I mean, okay, it wasn’t her fault that that blunder happened, but you know, first impressions and all. I don’t want to be stuck with a jinxed person. Not that there really is such a thing as a jinxed person. I sometimes think I’m jinxed when I rip my shorts every gym class and get chased by a dog on my way home from school five days in a row. But we’re not talking about me.

“So who’re you talking to?” Sam asked, as she rummaged through her make up pouch.

“Bridget. She says hi by the way,” I replied.

“Hi back! Can’t wait to meet you Bridget!” Now she’s applying lip gloss.

“Sam says she can’t wait to meet you, Bridge. Maybe if she finally does, she’d never wish she did.”

“Well ha-ha Allanah. Anyway, we’re planning a surprise party for Anna. You can come home next weekend right? It’ll be a picnic. At the park. I’ve invited a couple other people. It’ll just be close friends. So are you in? Saturday next week, okay?”

“Alright. Who’s gonna prepare the food?”

“I’ll have the cook prepare it, don’t worry. We’ve got loads of food here at home, and everyone needs to lose weight so better give it out, right?”

“Yeah. We’re a bunch of hungry homeless people.”

“You bet you are. And you. Don’t eat much there, okay? Are you getting your weekly exercise? You’ve been telling me you’ll lose weight, but you still haven’t! When will you, Al?”

“Alright mom, there’s no need to nag!”

“Hey, uhm, I’m gonna go now. See you later, Al.” Sam checked her appearance one last time and quickly exited the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

“I’m being serious!” came the voice from the phone.

Ok, so Bridge has been getting me to lose weight like, since we’ve known each other. And that’s a really really long time. She and my mom can join forces and make a Help Allanah Lose Weight campaign or something.

“Yeah yeah I know right? I’m constantly running around campus anyway ‘cause the buildings are so far away. That’s exercise enough.”

I hate it when we get into this topic. As if it’s her that’s being weighed down by this extra fat.

“I’m just concerned, geez. No need to be irritable. Okay, I hear my dad downstairs. He just came from Paris and I asked him to buy me that mink coat from Versace’s fall collection. I’ll talk to you again, k?”

“Ok. I’ll just be here all day. Enjoy your mink. ‘Bye.”

“Bye. And Al?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s coming on Saturday.”

I can hear her smile while she said that last bit. I’m sure.

Because I was smiling, too.

Bridget and I have a lot of differences. For one, she’s as filthy rich as all rich people could get. She’s like Cher in Clueless. And I… I’m like Mia in the Princess Diaries, except the being a princess part. Anna, on the other hand, is like Annette in Cruel Intentions, minus the whole Ryan Philippe thing. Bridge, Anna and I have been best friends since we were 8, so we pretty much know which buttons to push on each other. And now that we’re turning 18, I can really feel the friendship growing. It’s been ten years, and I want to be with them for another ten, and another, and another…

He’s going to be there! Yey!