Page 53 of All About You
This statement alone makes me so home-sick for Cheyenne.
All through high school, Cheyenne stuck by me, even with all my hopeless romantic escapades. She was there comforting me when I cried over Ralph in the girls’ bathroom, and she was there when I sobbed over a boy named Steven who told everyone that I’m not his type. Time and time again she’s been there, never once making me feel stupid for pursuing all these hopeless ventures.
“Ugh, I wish you were home already, so you could meet this beautiful stranger of mine,” I whine into the phone, and Cheyenne laughs.
“I wish that too. I’ll be back by Halloween, don’t you worry!”
That’s still so long away. I pout into the camera.
We continue to catch up, with Cheyenne telling me briefly about how nice it is to see her grandparents after all these years, and how it’s been surreal visiting her parents’ old house. The call sadly cuts out after ten minutes, and I sit staring at the blank screen after. Her words ricochet around my brain, about how I always pursue what I want with everything. I’ve been pursuing love all my life, to find a love that matches my parents. I just hope that this time, I’m right.
On our Tuesday morning train ride to the city, Marlon tells me, “So, I watched a couple of episodes of Sailor Moon last night.”
I gasp, a little scandalised.
“I can’t believe you continued watching without me.”
Marlon glances sideways at me, amused.
“I didn’t know you wanted to watch with me that bad.”
I definitely don’t. “Well, what do you think of it so far?”
Marlon taps his chin, as if the question is a hard one.
“Hmm, well Usagi is definitely a favourite. She’s a total badass. I can’t wait for the rest of the scouts to come though. That tuxedo mask, however…”
We both grimace at the same time, a silent agreement that Tuxedo Mask is a little helpless. The synchronised action makes us both laugh, earning us some unimpressed glares from workers around us. This time, I don’t care if they’re bothered. Let them glower.
When Marlon and I exit the station, he gives me a smirk as we part ways.
“Say hi to your lover boy today, if you see him,” he coos.
I haven’t seen Rafayel since last week and I’m really hoping that my luck is different today. Now that I was fake-dating Marlon, I could focus on pursuing Rafayel a little more confidently than when I was worried about how my parents would react.
I check the time on my phone. There’s still another hour and a half until my first class begins.
Perfect.
The excitement has me buzzing. My outfit today is pretty cute too, I think. I’m wearing one of my favourite pink vests paired with a white tennis skirt.
Yet, as I start heading toward the bookstore, sweat begins to pierce my forehead. The weather is strangely humid, despite it being officially autumn. By the time I reach the glass doors, wisps of my hair are sticking to my face, my body a little heated.
Thank goodness for the air-conditioning inside the building. I resist the urge to lift my arms so the cool air could also grace my armpits.
The space inside is bare, with hardly any customers around, except for an old lady at the non-fiction section, and a man at the romance section.
I make my way toward the interconnecting cafe, where there are a few stray students here and there, but the empty tables outnumber its occupants.
There’s an empty booth nearby the entrance, so I scramble toward it, not daring to search for Rafayel, especially in this state. Once I slide in, I immediately reach for my safety net of a makeup bag and pull out my mirror, bracing myself for the jumpscare. As expected, my face is shiny with sweat and oil, my hair ragged and lips chapped.
I decide to tackle my mirrorball of a forehead first, pressing a blotting paper against it. It comes away immediately moist,having soaked up much of the oil and sweat. I smooth the creases of my lips out next with my lip balm, before checking myself in the mirror once more.
There we go. More presentable and sane looking.
That’s when I finally let my eyes drift to the cafe counter. There’s no sign of Rafayel. My gaze skirts to the shelves. No sign of him there, either.
The excitement in me begins to simmer. What if he’s not even here today as well?
