Chapter 6 Magnolia #2
Even though we hadn’t said a word to each other since reaching home, knowing that she was gone left behind an emptiness inside my chest. I had never felt so alone in my life.
Back home, there was always somebody at the house—a helper, a relative dropping by, a friend from school.
I felt so lonely that I didn’t even bother checking the fridge to see what Indonesian food the catering lady had dropped off today.
I checked my voicemail, but there were no messages.
Maybe Ellery only asked for my number to be polite.
Mama and Papa called me at eight, asking how my first day went.
I told them perfunctory details. My classes seemed manageable.
Less daunting than the ones back at my competitive Singaporean school.
Yes, Iris and I are eating Indonesian food.
No, Iris doesn’t speed when she drives. (Much.) What about new friends?
I paused then, my mind clacking into an Ellery-shaped notch that had etched itself into my brain.
Maybe. I might’ve made a new friend. I’m not sure yet.
She seems nice. I heard the relief in Mama’s and Papa’s voices when I said “she.” Girls are safe.
Girls are no threat to my purity. They told me their lunch break was over and they needed to get back to work, and I said goodbye.
Once I hung up, the loneliness was so crushing that I didn’t even have it in me to brush my teeth.
I simply turned off the lights and crawled into bed, sleeping on my side so the tears only wet one corner of my pillow.
When they were done leaking out of my eyes, I turned to my other side and went to sleep.
I reminded myself that I would only be in America for four years, just long enough for me to get my bachelor’s degree, which would make me respectable, a good quality for a wife to have.
In the morning, I woke up feeling hopeful and refreshed.
I was one of nature’s optimists. Actually, when I stopped to consider my first day at school, it had gone really well.
I hadn’t lied to Mama and Papa about my classes being manageable.
I liked the campus, and of course, there was Ellery.
Last night, I’d been so exhausted that I’d let my negative thoughts get the better of me.
I’d second-guessed myself, talked myself into believing that Ellery merely saw me as a charity case.
But in the brilliance of a new LA morning (and LA mornings are always brilliant, even in the winter), I woke up convinced that she enjoyed my company as well, that she, too, saw me as a friend.
A friend! More than anything, that was what I needed right now. And I was about to see her again.
This time, I put on all of my new clothes.
My tight jeans and an off-shoulder top. I was still uncomfortable with the way makeup felt on my skin, but I swiped on a light coating of lipstick and dabbed a little blush on my cheeks.
My reflection still looked like me, but better.
A better version of me. I smiled, ate my breakfast alone, and when Iris’s door banged open, I kept the smile on my face and said, “Hi.”
“What are you smirking about?” she said by way of greeting.
“Nothing. It’s just a nice morning.”
“It’s always a nice morning. That’s the whole point of LA.”
“Do you want some cereal?”
“No time. Let’s go.”
I was determined not to let Iris blacken my morning. The whole ride to school, I kept my hands folded on my lap and stared out my window to avoid irritating her somehow. When we got to school, she said, “Three o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Then I hurried out of the parking structure, my heart racing.
I was early; the first class I had wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes, which meant I had ample time to get to the bookstore.
I was going to ask Ellery if she wanted to get tacos for lunch again.
That was what friends did, right? Yes. Definitely yes. There was nothing awkward about that.
The line curling out of the bookstore wasn’t as long today, but it was still sizable, and even from a distance, I spotted Ellery in her bright red employee vest. She stood out from the crowd.
Literally. She was so tall, and her hair, tied back into a ponytail, turned a dazzling gold under the Californian sun.
Her broad shoulders rippled as she moved, waving people forward.
I could hear her voice, though not the words, and the sound was enough to make me smile even wider.
I knew she’d say, “Heck yeah, let’s go for tacos! ” even before I asked the question.
But before I got to Ellery, before she could spot me, someone else called out, “Ellie!” and there was something in her voice that made all of my muscles freeze up. There was a certain familiarity in it that came from possession.
A beautiful brunette walked past the crowd of waiting students, smiling. Ellery turned and saw her, and her whole face lit up. She looped one arm around the brunette’s waist and lowered her head. And, as I watched, frozen, the brunette tilted her head up and went on tiptoe, and they kissed.
This moment was one of the core defining moments of my life.
Not just because the girl I might or might not have developed a tiny crush on was kissing someone.
But because she was kissing another girl.
Out in the open, in front of a crowd, in front of her workplace, in the middle of school.
Up until that moment, I had never seen two girls kissing on the lips before, not even on TV.
Indonesia had very strict censorship laws; not even hetero kissing was allowed on-screen, and the Internet was in its adolescence, so as sad as it sounds, I hadn’t seen that many kisses in my lifetime.
In fact, I could count the number of hetero kisses I’d seen on one hand, and all of them had happened at weddings—the pastor intoning, “You may kiss the bride,” followed by a stiff, chaste peck with lips pursed.
Anyway, so there it was. Ellery kissing a girl.
I was so confused. On the one hand, I was really disappointed.
On the other hand, I didn’t know why I would be disappointed, because I was straight.
What I felt for her yesterday was merely excitement at making a new friend, that was all.
And a girl crush. Very platonic. Nothing more platonic than girl crushes.
But I still felt stupid though. Because—oh, I don’t know.
Because I’d assumed she would be just as lonely as I was.
Because I’d assumed she, too, would have no one to have lunch with and would therefore jump at the opportunity to grab lunch together.
There is nothing lonelier than realizing that you’re the loneliest person you know.