Love Over Coffee

The rose in my hand was fresh red in colour, bright and standing out amongst the black I see all around me. I slowly turned the stalk, examining it yet not really registering. It looked so fresh, so alive right then in my pale hand, I thought it was pretty ironic that I was throwing it down to join him later. I cringed slightly at the thought of him. It didn't hurt that much anymore, at least compared to the past few months of watching him on the hospital bed, especially compared to the past few days. A suddenly itch of panic erupted in my chest. I wasn't starting to forget him already, was I? Automatically, my mind rushed to recollect my most precious memories with him, the past few months with him…. And the pain came back again.

Ah. I felt relieved even as I stood there, hurting silently. I was glad to feel that invisible yet all-so-familiar pain, that meant that I haven't forgetting him yet. I am so afraid to, afraid that I would choose to lose him in my memory forever for my selfish needs of relieving the pain. The headstone is carved with `in loving memory' and in my loving memory he shall live in forever. Otherwise, he would be truly lost to me, forever.

I looked around me and I wondered how many would remember him. All around me, they stood clad in black. Some were crying, some had emotionless faces that I couldn't read, some of the kids looked bored. I looked down where my little sister stood. Luna was seven. She stared unblinkingly at where he laid, grasping the rose stalk in a small hand. The pain intensified when I looked at her, so I quickly shifted my gaze. My mother had her eyes closed, her eyelashes glittering whenever the tears caught the sunlight. The look of grief on her pale face was heartbreaking, I could not stand watching her either.

I turned my attention back to the rose that I was still twirling in my hands, just as the priest finished. Slowly one-by-one, we stepped forward to drop our roses in. I held back, somewhat unwilling to let go of the rose for some unknown reason. I twirled it a bit more as people blurred past me. It was quiet affair. So when some of the strangers I did not recognize started whispering, I could hear them pretty clearly.

“How are they going to survive? She is so weak now, I doubt she can work.”

I raised my head. Were they talking about my family? More specifically, my mother?

“He was the sole breadwinner. She doesn't have much choices, she still has the 2 girls to feed.”

Of course they were talking about us, I realized with a tinge of annoyance. Who else could they be talking about today?

“They have no one else to rely on.”

Those words had an impact on me. I realized that I was so immersed in my grief that I did not think of what was ahead of us. I realized that I have always relied on him; I've always expected him to provide for us. Even though he had been gone, I never thought so far as to how we would live… something that he no longer was going to do. I suddenly had a sensation of being rapped hard on the head and I remembered what he told me.

You take good care of them, all right? I know you can do it, `Mione. Be my big girl, and look out for them all right? It's a promise?

What could I do? I promised him, at his bedside a day before he left. We even did the special handshake we invented when I was 10, which took so much effort out of him just to do it then. He made the effort to do the handshake with me one last time, and I should make the effort to uphold my promise too. I had to take care of my family. I was the big girl in the family, his big girl. We didn't have anyone else? True. My mother was too ill to work? True. Luna is too young and she still has to go to school. True. I realized then what I had to do. The future was truly tough as those strangers had said. My father predicted it and made sure I would take care of the family.

I was the last one left. I walked till I was at the edge, grasping the rose stalk tightly. Looking down at brown wooden and the scattered roses, I felt cold and clammy. Everything felt so surreal. Just to be sure, a little voice said in my head. I purposefully pricked my finger, a final test for see if it was all so real. A small jolt in my finger confirmed that nightmares can never be that real and it finally jolted my senses back to life, which had been numb ever since that night my mother told me the news.

Goodbye, Dad.

I guess this was what those brochures in the hospital called `acceptance' and `moving forward'. Except I wasn't doing this out of choice. I am forced to accept it, forced to move forward. For the sake of Mom, Luna, and my promise to Dad, I have to look forward.

Daddy, help me. From wherever you are.

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“Pizza delivery!”

I shouted as I got off my bike in front of the house that had excited screaming and loud music emitting from it. Hauling the boxes of pizzas behind me, I vaguely wondered what the occasion was. Walking up to the door, I found it unlocked. So I decided to enter anyway, it was highly doubtful that they could hear the doorbell, or me over the racket. The door pushed open to reveal, well, a lot of teenage girls. They are of Luna's age, I guessed from their revealing dressing, slightly overdone make-up and the unmistakable impossible-pitch squealing that Luna and her friends make they are together. I shake my head at their crazy antics and head to the kitchen.

Passing young girls who I could not distinguish between at all, I wondered how I was to identify the owner to collect payment. I placed the pizzas on the kitchen and turned around to look at the living room. Sweet Merlin, how could they lose themselves like that, I can never understand. Ever. My eyes travelled the crowd of bodies that seemed to pulse along with the music, a mixture of hair, raised arms and jumping bodies in the middle of the room. I have never and could never do that, just scream and have fun. If that was fun at all, that is. The music was deafening, and their screams gave me a headache.

I helped myself to a cup of cold coke, it wasn't as if they would notice. I doubt they would notice anything lesser than an elephant came and stomped on their speakers, I thought cynically as I leaned against the counter. The cold liquid sloshed down my parched throat, relieving the soreness that I hadn't noticed before. Today had been a tough day. Delivering newspapers in the wee hours of the morning, chasing kids around the child-care centre in the morning, working with the guys at the gym in the afternoon, and delivering pizzas since the evening till now, nearing mid-night. I looked heaven-ward. I still had 2 bags of dolls at home waiting for me to sew eyes on for them, I really should not be wasting time at some party-hole for crazy girls.

I started towards the speakers, deciding to be that crazy elephant to switch off their speakers. I just wanted to get the payment and get back home. But just as I stepped forward, I knocked into a young girl wearing a white revealing spaghetti top. As though I was watching it in slow-motion, I watched in horror as my coke sloshed over and splashed all over her chest. If possible, the screaming around me intensified.

“I am so sorry!” I stared wide-eyed at the brown blotches on her top, and the droplets of coke that slowly dripped down from her chest down towards the valley between her breasts. The girl looked repeatedly at me and at her chest, never stopping to breathe as she screamed at me. She realized that I was staring at her chest and she slapped me.

I was jolted. Quickly, I turned behind me to grab paper towels and started wiping her chest and top. Well, that was the only thing I could think of doing! But I never do learn from my past mistakes, do I? It wasn't the first time it happened to me.

The girl started a fit, screaming and slapping at me, trying to push me. All this time, I was trying to dry the coke from her chest, pulling her top slightly.

“Ouch- just give me a mome- I'm sorry! Stop hitting me! Ow! Hold still! Wait-”

“STOP MOLESTING ME!” I heard amongst the unintelligible screaming she has been hurling my way the past 2 minutes.

“WHAT??” I shouted incredulously. “I'm not molesting you! I'm a girl too!”

In my incredulity, she managed to push me back to the counter and flung her arms over her chest to protect herself from me. More screaming, and in those noise, I heard a bunch of colourful swear words that are intended for guys. Then I realized what was happening. Again.

She mistook me for a guy.

I was really getting tired of it. Seriously, I do not think I look THAT much like a male. I mean, I'm average-sized, perhaps more built than an average girl you find along the streets since I work as a trainer in the gym. I have short cropped brown hair so that it saves time, trouble, and lots of water and shampoo. My face doesn't look very manly, in my opinion. It looks similar to Luna's, as a matter of fact. And she's definitely feminine-looking.

Then why on earth do so many people mistake me for a male?!

Well, upon reflection, I have not done much to persuade them otherwise. My mannerisms are rather rough since I spend so much time with the gym guys. My dressing is casual, comfortable, usually, my dad's shirt which is baggy for me, matched with cargo pants or bermudas, and my favourite all-weather, all-terrain sneakers. My only accessory is a sports watch I picked up a while ago, and sometimes a white cap as a protection to the sun or a pathetic shield from the rain.

But that is my way of life! I have to support my family, so everything I do must be hassle-free, cheap and comfortable. I'm still female! Just because I work 4 jobs a day, don't dress up, don't wear make-up or have long hair, and don't hold teacups with my pinky sticking out does not mean I am not a woman! I still have a chest, albeit small and can easily be beaten hands-down by those buff guys at the gym, I still have my once-a-months, the whole package! I am still a 21-year-old woman, just a more busy, more rough and loud one.

I guess it doesn't show. Because situations like the one happening now had happened at least 5 times before. But I guess it's not important. I wasn't about to change just because these occasional problems. Looking like a man… has its benefits sometimes. Like scaring Luna's irritating boyfriends, and getting jobs that are usually reserved for men like transporting things, driving, and my current gym instructor job. Oh, but the guys at the gym know that I'm a girl already. And they are ok with it. I think I have more guy friends that girls. Guys can accept girls who look like girls and treat them like their best friend/brother, yet girls can't do that. I can never understand.

Like now, this hysterical girl in front of me cannot believe that I'm a girl. I realized more and more people are looking at us now, as I half-stand, half-lie against the kitchen counter. Soon, the commotion built up around us and more and more girls are screaming at me. God, this was so not what I planned to do. I tried to walk towards the girl to apologise, but I was pushed back by a few hands belonging to the crowd.

“I'm a female too, ok?” I shouted aloud.

“Like real!” A voice came from the crowd.

“Get out of here!” Another voice said.

“We'll call the police, you jerk!”

I messed my hair in frustration. How was I to explain to them? As I took a deep breath to try again, a voice vaguely familiar called out.

“Herms! What are you doing here?” it was Luna, my brain registered over the noise around me. My first thought was, what was she doing around her in this crazy hell-hole?

My second thought, however, was thank sweet merlin.

“Luna! Where are you? Come here and explain to them that I'm your sister, and I most definitely am a female!” I shouted desperately and looked around for a familiar blonde head.

Sure enough, I spotted it near the front and soon, my 15-year-old sister broke out from the mess of crazy young girls. My desperate eyes told her everything she needed to know.

She promptly made her way in front of me, and turned to face the mob. “Girls, she's my sister! Hermione Granger, my elder sister!”

She turned her head back at me, and her eyes travelled from my messy hair, to my baggy clothes and the helmet I was clutching in my left hand. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and turned back again.

“I know she doesn't look like it. But seriously, trust me. She's always dressed like that. She means no harm!” She shouted to the girls in front of her, who have calmed down significantly.

“Girls, believe me. I swear I wasn't molesting her. I just wanted to clean the mess I made.” I added with my hands raised in a surrender-pose.

Sure enough, a bit more coaxing on Luna's part and mine and the crazy mob calmed down and another “mistake Hermione as a man” occasion had passed. Luna and I left the party shortly after Luna got me to the organizer of the party and I collected payment for the pizzas.

Walking towards my bike, Luna was shaking her head, all that beautiful blonde hair swishing golden under the streetlights. I was exhausted from the ordeal. Handing her a helmet, there was a mutual understanding that I didn't need any lecturing from her and I should not question her about her presence at the party if I wanted to be spared from her lectures.

Together, we got on the bike, and I drove us home after a long but pretty normal day.

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