by Yuriko Hime
"You're acting awfully suspicious," I said. "We'll take all day if I repeat everything in my thoughts, so I'll let you off with a warning. You don't have the upper hand here. I do. The control is in my hands."
"Where's the warning in that?"
"I'm not done yet, you little. . ." I drew in a long breath. Easy Scotland, easy. "I can hire people to track you down, Lynx. To follow your moves. But I won't, and you know why?" I jabbed a finger on her chest. "Because time tells the truth. It always has a way of revealing things, and you, whoever or whatever you are will eventually be stripped." Lulu tugged at my sleeves. She'd fall down any second. "We'll go home soon," I consoled, then turned to Lynx. "I'm going with you on the weekend. This is my choice, my plan, my move."
She inspected her fingernails. "If you say so," she taunted. It took all my strength not to poke her playful eyes with my fingers. She nudged her head to Lulu. "Your friend needs to rest. Should I call a taxi?"
"No thank you," I said. "I'll find a way to get us out of here. You can leave us alone now and go back to your dump, or whichever hole you like to disappear in when you're not stalking or harassing me." The spa session entered my mind. I gritted my teeth and went back to Lulu's side, trying to erase the mental images. It would only serve as a reminder of how Lynx always had the upper hand.
She must be thinking about it too because she said before leaving, "I wouldn't call it harassment when you were moaning for me to continue." Lynx was gone when I turned around to give her a piece of my mind. Once again she had vanished, this time leaving me not with smoke or rain, but with a feeling of dissatisfaction for letting her have the last word. No matter. I would see her again in the weekend. Granny Goose would give me all the information I needed about her wayward grandchild.
Thanks to a small write-up on the newspaper following the incident, Casper got wind of the commotion in the protest. He called me to say that I was irresponsible and negligent, putting myself and Lulu in harm's way. Though there were no pictures of me on the stage, and the police dismissed the chasing episode as nothing more than passionate gestures of expression to cover everything, Casper had an inkling that I was the "mysterious" person involved.
After lashing out on me for a good thirty minutes, as most of his sermons went, he told me that he was also proud that I stood up for the minority. Aww. It gave me feel good hormones, honestly. But I wouldn't be doing it again soon. Or would I? That was the best thing about this documentary. You wouldn't know what adventures would be next.
On the weekend, I received a text from an unknown number. My phone was new, so I was surprised to see that it was Lynx, telling me to dress comfortably and to meet them at the park in the afternoon. I was there by the time stated, questions in my mind, my mouth ready to ask. Lynx was talking to an old woman in a wheelchair, shawl draped over her legs, hair outfitted with a rain bonnet. Seeing me, Lynx murmured something to her and left the old woman's side to go to mine. She reached me before I reached them.
"Why hello there," I said with a wave. My mouth was spread in a smile. She had no idea what I had in store for us today. Grandma was my source. Lynx blocked my way when I tried peeking at her grandma over her shoulder. I leaned back. "What's the problem? I thought we're going to play fiance."
Lynx had never looked as serious as today, standing in front of me. Her poker face was impenetrable like blocks of stone. "I have nothing but respect for that woman," she said. "It's been a long time since we've seen each other. Please take hold of yourself."
I dusted lint from her shoulders. "Relax. I know when to tone down. So what do you want me to call you? Bumpkin? Snookums? Snuggle bunny? Or will alpha do? You know, since they call you that in the cafe." I smirked naughtily. "But then with such a term for endearment, your grandma will wonder if we're doing something in bed, and I have to pretend that you're good, even though technically I have no idea how lesbians have sex."
Lynx stiffened. "Quiet, she's coming." Her grandma literally rolled herself between our conversation by steering her wheelchair closer. Cool! I liked her already. Lynx turned to the old woman. "Grandma, this is Scotland, the person I'm engaged to. You've talked to her on the phone."
"Good day," I said, keeping a distance. Lynx gave me a look. Oh! I was the fiance. Got it. I bent to grandma to shower her with kisses. She didn't have that old people smell and was impeccably dressed for someone whose granddaughter had multiple jobs to presumably support herself. Unless of course Lynx was hired by the competition or was out to get me. In which case she'd earn a lot.
Grandma had the same blue green eyes as Lynx, though hers were warmer and welcoming. Her granddaughter's was either foxy or serious. "I can't believe Lynx was dating a beautiful woman and haven't even told me," she said. Grandma sounded hurt.
"You must forgive Lynx," I said, standing up. "Honestly, I'm the one who insisted to keep the relationship a low profile until we get to this stage. My parents are conservative." Not really. It would be amusing to guess what their reactions would have been if I had professed to be a lesbian in high school, or was actually dating Lynx for that matter. Casper would be all for it. I could tell. My father would be on the fence at first but would eventually give in. I had him wrapped around my fingers like that. Mommy in the meantime. . . Why was I thinking about this again?
"Enough small talk," Lynx said. She went behind the wheelchair to push. "I know you're both hungry. There's a good restaurant near here. We'll continue the conversation there."
I was more than prepared to dine at a local eatery that served burgers and nuggets, yet the restaurant we went to was posh. It had a ritzy waiting area and an ambiance that announced its luxury. How could she afford to eat here? The right thing to do was to offer to pay the bill later. Lynx must have really loved her grandmother to treat her. The dishes would be outrageously priced for her wage. Times like these, I was thankful for being born into my family. I should give them a call later.
After getting seated and ordering, grandma was all questions. "How did the two of you meet? Are you in college? What does your parents do for a living?" she said.
I unfolded a white napkin on my lap. "I'm starting freshman year in late September for Sociology. For now, time is being spent on important research. As for the second question, Lynx and I met while she was driving a taxi. Wait, I think it was at the spa." I scratched my head and frowned. "To tell you the truth, grandma, Lynx has so many jobs, I don't remember which one I should stick to. That's why when everyone asks me how me met, I tell them we saw each other at her job and was in love at first sight. Didn't we, baby?" Lynx's face darkened. She knew what was up. I snapped my head back to grandma. "Do you know what her real job is?"
Grandma took her own napkin and stared at the white cloth, appreciating the embedded design of flowers and butterflies. "My Lynx is always between jobs. I hate to track it myself." She reached across the table to put a reassuring hand on top of Lynx's. "Whatever she's doing, I know it's for the greater good." That was all she could say? For all she knew, her granddaughter could be a hired killer.
"Great to hear," I said, smiling at them. "With regards to your other question about my parents, Lynx can give you a thorough detail about that. She's a big fan."
Grandma stared inquisitively at Lynx. "Are her parents famous?" the old woman said.
Lynx had an answering shake of her head ready for us. "Scotland always mention them in that light. I assume that they are. She hasn't told me what they actually do though. Our relationship is not based off that. We concentrate on us."
"As it should," grandma said with an approving nod. I drank from my glass of water.
Our conversation paused for a while when the food was served. Lynx assisted her grandma by cutting the meat portions into smaller pieces, while the old woman grilled me with more questions, or rather, statements. "I was stunned when I talked to you on the phone, dearie," she said. "Lynx like to keep to herself, but I guess she's in the right age to settle." I stopped myself from asking her what Lynx's
age was. A fiance should know her betrothed's age. "Tell me more about you, Scotland."
I aimed for flattery. "There's nothing much I can say that will impress a woman such as yourself."
She waved a hand. "I love hearing stories. Go on."
I put my knife and fork down, then wiped my mouth with a napkin. "Well, Lynx might not have mentioned this, but I like to travel and explore. I share this passion with the two closest people in my life, Casper my brother, and Lulu my best friend. I've seen so many things on the road. I guess it's part of the reason why I fell in love with Sociology. The culture, the origin, the behavior of humanity. All of it excites me."
Grandma's eyes twinkled. "What a pleasant surprise," she said. "Now I know why you've gravitated towards each other."
"Everyone should start eating," Lynx reminded. She'd finished cutting grandma's food and was holding out a fork with a small portion of steak on the other end. "The food will not taste good cold." Grandma nodded and let Lynx feed her. I got back to my own plate. For a minute there it felt like I was getting closer to what Lynx was like behind the pretense.
Outside the restaurant while pushing grandma's wheelchair, Lynx whispered to me, "She's complaining because we're not sweet enough."
"When did she say that?" I asked.
"In the restaurant while you were in the washroom. She said that we didn't look like we're in love. She's right. We're bad at acting. I'll tell her in a bit that we've decided to part ways because of irreconcilable differences."
Me, bad at acting? Girl, I was good at everything. "You will never tell her such a thing," I said. "If someone sucks here, it's you. Don't blame me."
"We're in this together," she contested.
"No, I refuse to sink in your boat. I'm better at this." Bumping her hips with mine so she'd move out of the way, I took control of the wheelchair. Grandma looked behind to see why we went off-course. I smiled winningly at her. "We're taking a detour to the park. It's on the way to the gallery too," I said. On the park, we left grandma to stop and smell the flowers while I dragged Lynx to the playground where the old woman could see us even at a distance. When we were in the correct position, I intertwined my fingers with her. "Isn't today amazing, sugar?" I batted my lashes.
Lynx's nose crinkled. "You sound like you're playing a character from a sitcom," she said.
"Of course I am. This is all an act to see who's better. By the time your grandma goes home, she'll be so convinced that we're a couple, she'll die of happiness." Lynx balked at my statement. "Or you know, she'll be ecstatic." I glanced at grandma. "She's looking. Quick, grab my ass." Lynx didn't move. "Do I have to do everything around here?" I shoved her hand in my back pocket. Grandma seemed pleased from her wheelchair. "Done," I said. "Remove your hand."
The corner of her lips curled up. Instead of moving her hand away, she squeezed. Way to take advantage of the situation. A toddler wearing a pink tutu skirt and squeaky shoes ran to us right then. Lynx immediately dropped her hand and knelt down to the child. "Hi there. Where's your mommy?" she said. The kid pointed to the bench behind us where a young couple was talking with an older man. Lynx carried the child in her arms. "You're heavy." It was a good move on her part. Grandma was giving us the ok sign from a distance.
"Well played," I remarked.
"You can't win every time," Lynx murmured to me. "Someone's always better. You just have to accept that you're not God's gift to mankind."
Irritation bubbled on the back of my head like molten magma about to explode from a volcano. "You think you're the person who can best me?" I said. "Think again. I've never lost to anything, even to silly games like this." I came closer to them until the kid is squished between us in a hug. "We're just like one big happy family, aren't we? Don't forget to smile in grandma's direction."
The kid wiggled from our grasp. It could be the three of us pressed together that was bothering her, but the way she jerked her arms to the nearby sandbox, she wanted to be put down there. "Okay, okay," Lynx said to her. "Off to the sandbox you go."
I followed them to the square playground. Our conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot. "What you need to understand is you can't win against me," I stated. "It's a proven fact. People have tried and failed, and I'm sorry for you because you'll just be one of them."
Lynx deposited the child on the box and sighed when she sat on the edge. The next time she glanced at me, her features have hardened. She was a painting turned upside down, one moment revealing a smiling face, the next showing a scowl. It came out of nowhere, and it bewildered me how fast she changed from a good granddaughter to this. "I'm telling you this for your own good," she said, keeping her eyes on me. "It's nothing personal." She exhaled through her mouth. "Of all the people I've come to know, so far, you're the most tiresome, vexing, modesty deprived, agonizing, and selfish person ever."
My eyebrows twitched. "Is that all?" I said.
"Not even close." She forked her fingers through her hair and glared at me. "You're irritating. I wouldn't have you here if I had a choice. How do you keep up with this? You're just. . . You're tiring to be with. You're a sore loser."
I gaped at her. Those statements weren't new to me. I've heard it from every boy I've dumped, every person I've challenged. Somehow, hearing it coming from Lynx, the small itch of annoyance I've felt earlier has turned to a rash that demanded to be scratched. The high I've been feeling from winning over her pummeled to the ground like a rocket ship that lost control. Normally, aside from my parents, only Casper and Lulu would be capable of doing this to me.
I did what any normal, mature eighteen year old would do. Digging my hand on the box, I collected sand and flung it to her. Particles momentarily suspended in the air before Lynx cried out in surprise and pain, frantically rubbing her eyes. "That's for calling me names," I said, jumping up. The toddler looked at us, wondering what was going on. "I might be irritating, but you're a creeper, Lynx. I suggest you tell your grandma that we're over because I'm not letting you come near me again."
It was hard not to look back as I left the park, hard not to check if I left her blind. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to apologize for something that I've always loved doing. It was a slap that I've seen a mile away yet didn't deflect. Something in my gut was telling me that I've been waiting for it all along, and now that it was here, I was part enraged and partly captivated.
Chapter 15
Click clack. Click clack. The monotonous sound of the keyboard and mouse was relaxing. Click clack, day in. Click clack, day out. The only interlude was Lulu's shadow, haunting the halls of our home. Click clack. I could get used to this. Click clack. Blue green eyes. Click clack. Blinking back tears from the sand. Click clack. Must not think about her. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. I was insane.
"Scotland?" Lulu said, stopping by my doorway. Her brows were furrowed, hands hidden behind her back, eyes staring worriedly at me. "You've been mumbling 'click clack' for ten seconds. Are you alright?" She barged in my bedroom, fuzzy brown voodoo doll swinging to and fro on her grip. Ugh. I didn't want that anywhere near me. The ping from my laptop dragged my gaze from the doll to the screen. Lulu and I checked to see if anyone messaged. "I haven't seen that website before," she said.
"It's fairly new."
The comment bar below the pictures was filling up with messages. I typed a quick response to the most recent congratulatory statement. 'A bright idea. I'm excited with this project,' it said.
Lulu waited for me to finish before brushing her hand on my forehead. "I'm not sick," I said, pushing her away. It was the website's fault for keeping me locked in my room. "Took me all day yesterday and this morning to set it up. The images needed to be crisp and vibrant, but at the same time controversial. I told you about this, didn't I? It's for the project."
L
ulu took the mouse from me so she could scroll through the page. The website was named 'To Be A Lesbian,' having the same title as the book I was creating. It would feature thoughts about my research that I wouldn't be able to include in the book. Upon the birth of the site, I've included dozens of images that was captured from the party at The Cove. Lulu pointed to a particular picture of two girls kissing on the corner of the bar. "This one was well taken," she said. "You can see their lips, but their whole face weren't revealed. You're keeping their identity a secret?"
"It's the ethical thing to do, especially since that was a stolen shot. I'm not a paparazzi." The muscles on my back ached when I stretched my arms up. I needed another massage in the spa. So much for wishful thinking. I couldn't go there without imagining a certain someone. Collapsing on the bed, I grabbed a pillow to squish to my chest and curled into a ball. "Do you like it?"
"It's tasteful," Lulu said. "Somewhere between educational and transparent without being too vulgar. Nicely done." I closed my eyes and smiled. Something was coming out of all this. "Your mom called me this morning, by the way," she said. "You weren't answering your phone, so she asked me if you're alright. I told her you were sulking."
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. Five missed calls flashed on the screen. "I'm in so much trouble." I groaned. Didn't I tell you at the beginning of the book that a Roth shouldn't be kept waiting? That we dropped everything to talk to each other? Aside from that, mom worried easily about me compared to daddy. If I wasn't picking up the phone, I was either getting awarded for being great, or getting myself into trouble. Oftentimes she couldn't figure out which was which, so she was bound to assume the worst. "Why would you say that to her?" I asked Lulu. "I wasn't sulking."
"Of course you were," she chided. "You haven't changed your clothes or left the room since yesterday. You stink." She threw a pillow at me. "Last time I saw you like that was when Mr. Roth scolded you for drawing a mustache on Mayer's painting. Casper carried you on his back and took you to the kitchen for ice cream so you wouldn't be depressed anymore." Funny but true story. Daddy was such a fan of this Mayer person that he got so mad when I messed with his collection. For the third time, don't ask who Mayer was. I wouldn't tell. "We have to do something about Lynx if she's the one who's making you sad," Lulu went on. "As per the best friend code, I'm required by duty to avenge you."