CHAPTER TWO
 

            Back in high school, Dahyun smuggled alcohol in their graduation rehearsals. It was concealed in a 1-liter Gatorade bottle, because it was a type of mixed drink that had the exact shade of blue as Gatorade's Blue Bolt. She carried the damned thing at the auditorium, (where all senior students lined up for their fake diplomas) and got three students drunk—one of them having a terrible allergic reaction that he couldn't attend the graduation ceremony the following day. No one in the faculty thought of Dahyun as the culprit, because I was there to clean up her mess. When they halted the rehearsals to check on the guy, Dahyun handed me the bottle and instructed me to get rid of it at the boy's restroom.

            I did what she asked, because we were friends. But I kept myself guarded, mostly skeptical of Dahyun whenever she gave me something to drink—until the night after we moved in the apartment. Boxes remained unopened; shelves were empty of books; and our closet had nothing but a couple of bent metal hangers. That night, I remember waking up on the floor, sore and sluggish. Half of my body was draped in Dahyun's squirrel-printed blanket, while my head rested on something bumpy: Dahyun's shoe box, which I must have used as a pillow when I passed out.

            "What time is it?" I croaked. But no one answered. "Hey, Tofu!"

            Instead, I was greeted by Mina's painting. It was hanging beside the window, as if it was in its rightful place, as if it was meant to steal our attention from the scenery outside—and that nothing could surpass the splendor of her smile. But I felt my chest tightened, because she was merely a representation of something that could never be mine. "You're getting sentimental. Stop it." I told myself. Cans of Smirnoff were all over the floor, and I picked up the nearest one, bringing its mouth to my lips. Empty. How unfortunate. Actually all of them were empty.

            I stood up and toddled to the painting. "What am I going to do with you?" I asked her.

            Even if she was here, Mina wouldn't respond immediately. People barely heard her speak, but those who managed to pull out several words from her, claimed that Mina had the softest voice. Little did they know that Mina can be really talkative—but most of the time, I would like to believe that she was only talkative towards me, because when I was trying to get rid of Dahyun's alcohol-filled Gatorade bottle, Mina caught me in the act. But it was more than that—because Mina helped me get away with it.

* * *

            The Gatorade bottle had its cap sticking out of my backpack when Mina noticed me walking towards the boy's restroom. The faint singing of the national anthem can be heard from meters away, and I assumed that everyone, even the faculty, were stuck on their place while singing with the seniors, so I took it as the best time to dispose the bottle. But as I headed towards the door, Mina appeared from the girl's bathroom, tying her crimson hair in a ballerina bun. We exchanged glances before she noticed my backpack.

            "It's becoming a tradition now, huh? I wasn't expecting that." Mina raised an eyebrow, pointing to the bottle. Even though she was speaking softly, I could sense in her tone that she was teasing me. When I didn't respond, Mina continued, "I didn't know you were graduating tomorrow. More importantly, I didn't know you're in the legal age to drink."

            "I'm not graduating. This is Da—" I stopped myself. If I revealed Dahyun's name, she would get in serious trouble. Instead, I used an alumni's name. "This is Dasom's bottle. Yeah. I was told to hand it over to her boyfriend at the boy's restroom. They gave me twenty-five bucks so I don't see the reason why I shouldn't do them a small favor like this."

            "Alright then." She grabbed my backpack, and took the bottle.

            "Hey what are you doing? Give it back."

            "Let's meet him. I'm coming with you."

            "Wait! I should do it!" I grabbed her arm, but Mina narrowed her eyes at mine, which made her less approachable—not at all intimidating, but deadly serious. "I'm sorry. They're expecting me to hand it over, so I couldn't let anyone else do it." 

            "Well, I can't have a minor carrying alcohol. Keep the money. I'll hand it over."

            "Actually, I lied. I'm sorry." I bit my lips, but then I saw Mina placed both hands on her hips, smiling at me as if she couldn't wait to hear my grand explanation. "I don't want any trouble. I'm just here to clean up my friend's mess. Please don't tell anyone. I'll do anything as long as my friend wouldn't get in trouble because she'll be graduating tomorrow. Please. I can draw a portrait of you. They say I'm really good at—"

            Before I could finish, Mina went to my backpack and hid the bottle inside, making sure that the cap wasn't sticking out. Then, she held a finger to her lips, and casually leaned at the doorway of the boy's restroom. Even while leaning, her posture was impeccable. "You better cover your nose. It smells here." She murmured, peeking through the narrow gap of the door. "But lucky for you, I couldn't see anyone."

            "You won't tell anyone about this?" I asked, still worried.

            "Why should I?" She hummed, "I'm coming with you, so I'll get in trouble if I ratted you out."

            "I don't understand. Why are you helping me?" I crept inside and threw the bottle in the nearest bin while Mina stayed outside to lookout and distract passers-by. "Besides, why are you here? The graduation ceremony doesn't start until 10 o'clock tomorrow morning."

            When a male student passed by, Mina yanked me outside and drawn my hoodie. I felt her hand wrap itself around me while she brought her body closer. From up-close, Mina smelled expensive as if she was adorned with lanyards of Jasminum sambac (also called, sampaguitas) and Japanese honeysuckle. Her breath, when she whispered to my ear, seeped through the hoodie, "Someone's coming. Keep your hoodie on, and pretend to flirt with me. Start laughing at my jokes like an infatuated hopeless-romantic."

            "Why?" I asked, but Mina slapped me by the arm so I started laughing.

            "Because with your haircut, you look like a boy." We made our way to the parking lot, and resumed our conversation at the darkest corner. Mina leaned on the wall, staring at me with her arms crossed, "No one told you? Momo and I started this . Well, it was mainly Momo's idea. She smuggled two liters of vodka, which looked like Gatorade's Pink Lemonade. And just like you, I was there to clean up her mess by disposing of the evidence at the boy's bathroom because—well, care to guess?"

            "Because people wouldn't think that you're capable of something like this?"

            "Charming." Mina pinched my cheeks before turning around. I thought she was going to leave, but Mina walked in circles at the parking lot, like someone taking a casual stroll. Her soft voice echoed in the empty area. "But not really. Actually, I'm quite disappointed Son Chae Young. Of all people, I thought you would look at me beyond this so-called perfection that I'm being crucified to."

            I sat on the elevated pavement, watching a procession of ants pass over. "Because I don't see anything wrong with you."

           "There's always something wrong with everyone." Mina murmured, "Some are too noticeable. Others come undetected." 

           "What's the answer then? Why did you clean up her mess?"

           "Because I love her." She sighed, "To the depths of foolishness."

             "You don't sound too happy though." I pointed out.

           Mina sat next to me. She was bitting her lip when she said, "Neither are you."

           When we saw a red car heading to our direction, Mina stood up and pointed to the entrance, "You should go to your friend. Tell her that I'm thankful to witness a very nostalgic moment of teenage shenanigans, and dedicated impulsiveness. As for the painting—"

           "Oh right, the painting." I said, monotonously. "When should I—"

           "I don't know, actually. But if it meant seeing you again, then, I'll make sure you're still in debt with me Son Chae Young. Because what else could be a better initiative than that? I don't fancy the idea of parting ways in a filthy parking lot."

            "What makes you so sure that we won't see each other again?"

            "I never avoided you, Son Chae Young. Remember that."

* * *

            I went to my room in search for a blank canvas. Mina's painting, Lake Mulberry, wasn't the same painting that I offered to her, because Lake Mulberry was done in secret, which implied that I remain in debt to Mina—and maybe, after making another portrait of her using bitter colors, I would find it in myself to move on. Catharsis. ". Where did Dahyun keep my canvases?" I asked myself, lying flat on my stomach while I poked underneath my bed. Sweat trickled down to my face, while fine wood dust started stinging my eyes.

            "Forget it. I'll ask her later," I decided.

            I crashed on the bed. My hand reached for my back pocket to retrieve my phone, but something sharp was pocking my back—it became irritating, so I stood up and the bed, recognizing a pointed corner protruding from the mattress. I got on my knees and took out the covers. A small note was taped on the mattress. I unfastened it from the bed, carefully unfolding the note until I saw the words: 

            To my Figure Eight—in the exact cursive handwriting of Mina's.

             I took out my phone and called Dahyun, "Where are you?"

            "Mrs. Sperling's office." Dahyun sounded like she was in a bad mood. "They didn't inform me that alcohol isn't allowed inside so they gave me a warning, but I need to fill up some paperwork for formalities-sake because this is considered a strike one. Well, I don't need to tell you that after three strikes, they'll kick us out, so don't throw away those boxes. We might need them someday for shelter."

            "I need to know something." I sat on my bed, reading the note quietly.

            "What? Can't you ask me later? Mrs. Sperling started nagging again."

            I ignored her. "When did Mina disappear?"

            "Jesus! First call of the night and it's about Mina again. The amount of Smirnoff that you drank should have wiped her off your memory." Even from the other side, I could imagine Dahyun rolling her eyes. "Why are you asking?"

            "Because I found a note in my room, and it's in her handwriting."    

            "I think you're still drunk. Just sit tight and avoid any sharp objects." Dahyun teased, "I'm leaving her office now, so just wait for me."

            "Will you please answer my question?"

            Dahyun took a few seconds before she spoke. Her tone was more serious than before, "They noticed her absence a week after the start of classes, because professors kept asking me if Mina had plans to drop his class. So, maybe she disappeared two days earlier. Why?"

            "She left a letter." These words came out automatically when I started reading the note.

            Dear Figure Eight,

            To fully appreciate this letter, you must romanticize the thought of writing, because it is one way for miserable young adults like me to fully express ourselves without inhibitions. Because paper doesn’t talk back.

           However, to fully understand the entire purpose of this, you must be willing to invest in the uncertainty that comes with it. There are no benefits, unless you are a voracious truth-seeker. How would you find out if you are?

It’s simple, answer this question: What do I mean to you?

           If I mean a lot, don’t be afraid to turn back.

          Sincerely,

          Myoui Mina.
 

            After reading the note aloud to Dahyun, I explored the paper for extra pages, but only after I turned it over did I realize what she meant by "don't be afraid to turn back". Dahyun was blabbering from the other line, but I ignore her. "She meant to flip the letter on its back."

           "Of course. Of course, you would do exactly what she says in the letter." Dahyun smacked her lips, but I was too distracted to pay attention to her teasing. Something was written at the back of the letter, and Mina used a grey colouring pencil which made it almost undetected. "Hey, Chaeyoung? Are you still here?" Dahyun asked when I fell silent.

            Don’t miss the one o’ clock. Where the spikes lower themselves to the ground, pointing to me.

            "Something was written at the back." I read the note aloud.

            "Has she always been this cryptic?"

            "I don’t know to be honest." I replied, stuffing the letter in my back pocket. "But she managed to dispose of alcohol at the boy's bathroom like I did so I'm not surprised if Mina did more than what we expected from her."

            "Well, that answers everything. " She replied sarcastically, "Mysterious."

            "By any chance, did you consider that Mina might be the previous resident of our apartment? Could you verify with Mrs. Sperling because I'm going out right now. It's almost midnight and I need to catch something at one o'clock. I won't be gone for too long. I promise."

             "Don't leave the house! You're drunk as !" She screamed over the phone, "I'm almost there."

             "I have to go out."

             "Where?"

             I ended the call because I already had my back turned.

            To the depths of foolishness.

Author's note:

I apologize for the late updates. I have a lot of problems to deal with.
In return, I made Chapter 2 longer than what I planned by adding MiChaeng flashbacks. Please be assured that I'll finish the story because I have all chapters summarized (all 13 of them). I just need to fill in the scenes, add details, provide dialogues, translate it to Chaeyoung's 1st POV, etc.
but I'm really busy so expect one chapter/week.

Note: After Chapter 3 I'll restrict the story to "Subscribers Only".

Photo Credits: Doodoo

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Copyright © 2017 by The-Boot
Published in Asianfanfics