| 01 |
 

“Hi . . .”

The tall stranger’s voice fell upon deaf ears; or the other was too engrossed in her sketch to pay attention, rather. He knelt down by her side and gently tapped the girl’s shoulder. Upon seeing his face, she jumped and dropped her pencil into the lake. It drifted into the thick, green slug that collected near the edge of the dock.

“Sorry.” He said reaching down to grab the girl’s pencil from the muck. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I guess I didn’t expect anybody to be out here this early.”

She continued to stare up at him as he worked diligently to wipe the goo from her pencil on his pants’ leg. The sunlight drowned out his facial features, so she couldn’t get a really good look at the other’s face. She could only hear his voice and attempt to distinguish the rest based on assumption.

“It’s okay.” The girl whispered, or so it sounded. “I was just leaving.”

She stood up and dusted the dirt remnants from her shorts. Her eyes searched his face, still looking for a glimpse of something. She reached and took her pencil from his hand.

“No, wait.” He said in an attempt to stop her. “You don’t have to leave. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

A cute laugh escaped her lips, which caused the other to pause and give her a strange look.

“I have to go anyway. I’ve already completely lost track of time.” She said.

She walked past him and up the docks to the gravel pathway. He looked down and noticed a yellow dandelion on the ground. He picked it up and saw that it was pressed flat and perfectly preserved. It must have fallen out of the girl’s journal.

“Hey! You dropped—” He tried to call out to the girl.

He ran up the dusty path, trying to catch up to her.

“Hey!” he shouted louder.

She stopped walking and turned around to look at him. She could finally see his face clearly, and it made her even more nervous than she had been before. He stopped to catch his breath whilst resting his hands on his knees.

“You…dropped…” his voice fought to finish the sentence.

He held out his hand with the dandelion resting in his palm. She came closer to him and grabbed the yellow weed, holding it like the most delicate flower. Her smile came as a surprise to the other who didn’t quite understand the girl’s fascination.

“Thank you.” She said. “Isn’t it pretty? It’s a Taraxacum Officinale.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he asked, “What’s that? It looks like a weed to me.”

The girl laughed and said, “It’s the species’ name. People would refer to it as a dandelion.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, having felt bad for the comment he said earlier.

“You must really like flowers…plants?”

She nodded and said, “They each tell a story. Some are more detailed and elaborate than others, but they all come together in such unity and beauty.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know much about that.” He said tucking his hands in his pants. “Crunching numbers are more of my thing.”

She smirked and took the other’s hand in hers, placing the dandelion inside and enclosing it with his fingers.

“You can keep this one.” She said. “Call it a gift.”

He looked down at it and chuckled.

“Okay. Well, can I at least know whom the gift’s from?” he asked looking into her eyes.

“Abigail…Abigail Wynter.”

“Abigail, hm?” He repeated with a gentle smile. “My name is Mark Tuan. I live in one of the lake houses in the gated community.”

“Hm, so you’re one of the Yacht Club kids?”

Mark’s face contorted and a sigh left his lips. He hated being reminded of his family’s wealth and status. He heard the same speech every time he mentioned where he lived. The thought of being referred to as Yacht Club Kid made him sick to his stomach. It , to say the least.

“I guess, even though my father doesn’t own a yacht.” He attempted to curve around the subject. “He has a really nice fishing boat, though.”

Abigail laughed and said, “It’s okay. I live in the same gated community. Don’t feel too bad.”

Mark quickly looked up at her in shock. He had lived there for as long as he could remember, but he hadn’t seen Abigail once. Maybe they had just moved there. He was almost too afraid to ask. He had already reached far enough in their conversation, so he thought; or maybe he was just afraid to make the comment that he had never seen any black families living in their community. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

“I better be getting back.” She said in jest. “I wouldn’t want my parents to think that I’ve been kidnapped. It was nice meeting you, Mark.”

He smiled and nodded in response.

“Same. See you around Abigail.”

“Call me, Abby.” She suggested. “I always thought that name suited me a lot better than Abigail.”

“Okay…Abby.”

Mark walked through his sleepy, slow-rising neighborhood. He saw wives kissing their husbands before they went to work, half of which forgot the thermoses of coffee that were sitting on the roof of their cars. Automated sprinkler systems with each step that he took on the sidewalk. He ran to dodge their sprayers. When he reached his lawn, Mark shook the misty droplets from his hair. His smile hadn’t left his face since he met Abby. This was the first time that he had met someone who hated the Cleary Neighborhood just as much as he did. It was refreshing, to say the least.

He walked inside and was greeted with the smell of jasmine incense. That could only mean one thing—his mother was doing yoga yet again. This was just another one of her ventures to stay young and attractive for her husband. If it wasn’t evident to her now, then it would be later—Mark’s father had already checked out. He was so busy preparing for the summer charity event. It would be the best way to end the second quarter and bring even more money to the business. Mark was naïve to it all. He knew nothing about the business, but his years in college would prepare him for it. It’s not like he cared much for it anyway, but it would all pay off in the end.

“Hey mom.” He said walking past her in the living room, making his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, son.” She called out to him while in a shoulder stand pose. “There’s some diced fruit there on the counter and some yogurt in the fridge.”

Mark looked at the colorful assortment on the counter with his nostrils flared in disapproval. He opened the freezer in search of frozen waffles, the good ol’ American comfort. He took two of them out of the package and put them in the toaster oven. He then spread strawberry cream cheese on each one and took large bites. It was days like this that he wished the maid wasn’t off duty. His mother didn’t know the first thing about cooking, which left Mark to his own devices. This often meant that he would be eating frozen waffles and O.J. That’s just the way it went in the Tuan household.

“Where did you go earlier this morning?” his mother asked walking into the kitchen. “I didn’t even realize that you were gone.”

Of course, you didn’t. Do you ever?

Mark looked up from his breakfast and took a sip from his glass of orange juice.

“I just went for a walk.” He replied nonchalantly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She wiped the sweat from her face and grabbed a piece of fruit from the plate with a toothpick.

“Maybe you should try yoga with me. It helps open the chakras and relieve stress.” She suggested to him yet another activity that she’d eventually quit half way through.

He nodded slowly not actually paying attention to anything that she was saying to him. When he was away at college, Mark got to escape the bull that went on at home. That dream didn’t last long, however. He was now home for summer vacation, and that meant that he had to deal with them for three months. He wished that he had saved up enough money to go on that trip with his friends from school. Instead, he had to hear his mother talk about her current “projects” and his father complain about his mother. His eldest sister got to escape it all by getting married. She didn’t really get too far seeing as her husband’s father was the CEO of a distribution company that was partnered with their father. Take that, Alyssa!

“I think I’ll just stick to good ol’ fresh air, mom.” He said. “But thanks.”

He drank the last swig of juice that was in his cup and walked out onto their patio. Their house overlooked a large backyard and the lake in the distance. Just a few blocks away, there was a clubhouse and country club. His parents frequented both to show everyone just how rich and powerful they were. Mark was just glad that he had an excuse to get out of going. This summer would be unlike the last one. He didn’t have a reason to be with friends, and his girlfriend—or should he say ex-girlfriend—was no longer an option. Now, he had to attend all the shallow and depraved gatherings of the elite while trying to stomach sparkling wine. He was so used to the keg parties on campuses and the occasional time where he snuck a drink or two. If his parents knew about it, then he’d surely be shipped to a different school. That definitely couldn’t happen.

In that moment, Mark thought about Abby and whether she attended college or not. He found himself thinking about the quiet cutie quite a bit since he got home. If she lived in this community too, then she probably knew about all the shady doings of its inhabitants. She was different than anyone that he had ever met. Most girls in that neighborhood only thought about themselves and daddy’s credit card. She almost seemed like she didn’t belong there at all.

“Mark, honey, can you go to the store for mommy?” he heard his mother calling out to him.

Mommy? How old am I? Five?

“Sure, mom.” He answered walking back inside.

She reached into her cream, leather tote and grabbed her Chanel wallet that matched her bag. She pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to Mark.

“I need some carrots, celery, garlic, and chicken s for dinner tonight.” She told him. “Oh and honey can you buy mommy some Chardonnay?”

He looked at her and raised his eyebrow.

“Mom, I’m not old enough to buy alcohol.” He said, his tone of voice as flat as his facial expression.

She scrunched her face and scratched her head.

“Really? Oh my.” She muttered. “How old are you again, honey?”

Mark rolled his eyes and walked past her to the front door.

Just as he was about to walk out, he said, “I’m twenty years old, mom.”

Not like you’d remember anyway.

He left the house and walked down the street with his hands tucked into his pocket. He had completely forgotten about the large stain on his pants from earlier. Since he was already down the street, he decided to keep going. Maybe he could pull it off by saying it was a new fashion statement. It’s not like anyone would know the difference.

As he was tucking the hundred dollar bill in his pocket, he felt the soft petals of the dandelion that Abby gave him earlier. He pulled it out and looked at it as he walked. A smile came to his face as he thought about her. He whistled a little tune while he added a little confidence to his stride. The downtown market came to view the closer that he got to the end of the block.

The local Starbucks was in full swing with customer lined up all the way to the entrance. Mothers were walking with their children, with looks of morose on their faces having to deal with them for three months. They were used to having nannies around to do their dirty work, but now they had to actually be mothers. Mark just laughed at their sadness and proceeded to the market. Inside, business was running kind of slow due to it still being early in the morning.

“Good.” Mark mumbled to himself. “I can get the best deals.”

He grabbed a shopping basket and walked over to the produce section. He reached for a bundle of carrots and put them on the scale to make sure that he had the right amount. Down the list he went in search of more food that he was sure his mother wasn’t going to cook herself. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure why he was grocery shopping in the first place. Who in the hell was going to cook dinner?

Mark just prepared himself for a pot full of unidentifiable food items in some murky, water broth with no salt or flavor. The chicken wouldn’t even look like meat let alone chicken. Then, of course, Mark would have to order pizza before his father got home from the office. It was the same thing almost every night.

“Did you find everything okay?” a voice called out to Mark as he approached the checkout line.

He put everything on the conveyer belt and replied, “Oh yeah. Thanks.”

He pulled the money out of his pocket and looked up at the cashier. She quickly rang up each of the items and put them in plastic bags. Mark focused on her face longer than he thought was comfortable or appropriate. She looked up at him and said, “Your total is $31.78. Will that be cash or charge?”

“Cash.” He said softly staring at the girl’s face, handing her the money.

She drew on the dollar bill with a marker to check its authenticity and opened the cash register to get his change. He was surprised that the girl that was ringing up his groceries was Abby. Why would she need to work at the supermarket when her family lived in the Cleary community homes?

“Abby?” he whispered.

She looked at him and handed him his change.

“Your change is $68.22. Have a nice day.” She said.

He gave her a strange look and said, “You don’t remember me? We met earlier. Mark Tuan, remember?”

She looked around and came closer to his face.

“Look, I’m trying not to get fired okay?” Abby whispered to him from behind the cash register. “I really need this job.”

“But why?” he asked. “Doesn’t your family have money?”

It wasn’t until after he said that that Mark wished that he hadn’t. It was embarrassing enough for her to run into him there, but he had to question her financial status. It was like a smack to the face; and to be truthful, it wasn’t any of his business.

“Unlike you, I don’t depend on mommy and daddy for money.” She snapped at him. “I work for mine, and I’d like to keep my job if you don’t mind.”

He felt offended by what she had said, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t have gotten in her business in the first place. It still hurt, nonetheless.

“Oh. Fine.” Mark said looking down at his bags of groceries. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He walked away, and Abby instantly felt like the lowest of low.

“Mark, wait!” she called out to him, but he had already left the store and the line was starting to fill up again.

She wanted to go after him, but she didn’t want to risk getting fired. Abby didn’t have the best way of dealing with people, especially the elitist who lived in her neighborhood. She told herself that she would never end up like her parents, but it was proving to be hard. She worked two jobs to put herself through school even though she really didn’t have to do so. It was the principle.

She could have easily explained that to Mark, but she didn’t want to risk being judged. Like making a scene and snapping at him made things better—not. Abby wanted to apologize to him, but she wouldn’t know the first place to find him. It’s not like she could knock on every door in her neighborhood looking for him. She would just have to take her chance and wait for him at the docks. Maybe just maybe he’d come back to the place where they first met. Then, she could make the proper apology.