The Perfect Mess

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THE FIRST month of school year felt like a year as I stayed inside my room, doing a dreadful paperwork due on Monday. Meanwhile, a subtle knock echoed my room; I instantly expected to see my mom.

"Come in," I called out. She revealed herself in her olive green dress and a pair of black pumps. Loose blond ringlets gracefully swayed past her shoulders. I smiled at her. "You look lovely." Mom always did.

"Why, thank you, darling." She struck a Marilyn Monroe pose and winked at me. We both shared a laugh. "So. What's the plan for tonight?"

"Just homework and Netflix. Why, you ask?"

"Well, I was wondering," she said, "if you'd like to come with us?" I stopped and watched Mom picking up strewn shoes and crumpled draft papers on the floor.

I was a bit surprised, she wasn't complaining this time. It was a late Saturday afternoon but I already planned to keep my room a mayhem till Sunday evening.

"No, thanks," was my answer. I resumed Googling for my lab report. Mom dropped the papers into the waste bin, her posture slumping gradually as she walked towards me.

She sat on the edge of my bed. "Why not? C'mon, sweetie, it'll be fun. We're going to see a movie, too."

"I'm totally fine with Netflix. And third-wheeling isn't part of the plan." I grabbed the pairs of slip-ons she was holding and placed it under my bed.

"Skylar, you are our daughter. We are family. There's no such thing as third-wheeling when it comes to family." Mom corrected. How dramatic.

"Actually," I said, "there is. Plus, I don't wanna miss the pilot episode of this new reality show."

Lies.

I knew Mom and Dad wanted to spend some quality time together alone, besides from the fact that I didn't want to witness them all lovey-dovey. Making money had been such a bummer, according to my dad. I honestly didn't get it. How was that even possible?

"Mom, please," I pushed. "Enough with the look. It doesn't work on me."

"Alright," she sighed, patting my shoulder with a little squeeze. "if that's what you really want. The kitchen is all yours. Just don't get the house on fire."

"Nah, I'll probably call for some Chinese takeaway."

"Chinese again?"

"Chinese again." I repeated while yanking myself up before I walked Mom out of my room.

"Okay then, we'll give you a call when we get there." Mom kissed my cheek. "By the way, Daddy got you pints of ice cream for dessert."

"Did he get the flavor right?"

"Brownie batter. Guess he did." Mom shrugged.

"Awesome."

AT SEVEN-FOURTEEN in the evening, Mom and Dad called to check up on me for the second time. I didn't really plan to turn my night into some tragic episode when I decided to watch Titanic for the first time in my sixteen years of existence while devouring a pint of Ben and Jerry's with all the empty oyster pails and soda cans on the coffee table; when I basically told my parents that Titanic bored me to death.

Yes, that tragic.

After a while, I started cleaning up the mess in the rec room, then found myself wandering around our house like I'd never done it before.

In other words: I had no life at all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sprinkles loafing on Mom's Persian carpet near the fireplace. As if a light bulb popped on top of my head, I crouched down and called her name. In a split of second, she immediately ran into my arms.

Her caramel-brown fur brushed against my fingers as I attached the leash to her collar. I stepped in front of the full-length mirror to hair-comb my hair before Sprinkles and I started stepping out of the house.

We finally reached West Hill Park moments later. It was already dark and chilly, yet bearable. I remembered how often my brother and I would play Frisbee with Sprinkles. The last time was two years ago, and now that Oliver's gone for college in London, hanging around here wouldn't be the same.

I really missed my big brother.

With a heavy sigh, I sauntered towards a wooden bench; Sprinkles tailing me, before I could even realize that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, and basically broke free from the leash.

"Ohmygod—Sprinkles!" I shrieked. What just—what the hell just happened?! "Sprinkles, where are you? Sprinkles!" A lady sitting from the opposite bench glared at me. Okay, not the time to deal with her. Now, it felt like I was from mad jungle looking for my dog. Where on earth did she go? "Sprinkles!"

"Everything alright?" A stranger's voice.

I looked behind to see who was asking me; and there, I saw a boy my age; wearing this midnight blue shep shirt, matching a pair of running shorts and shoes.

He wasn't exactly a stranger. Talk about bad luck.

"Not when you're around." I deadpanned.

He chuckled. "You're no fun, Gregory."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I saw a drop of sweat on his temple, slowly running down to his jawline.

"So are you, Denver."

His messy hair reminds me of chocolate ice cream. I noticed, it grew longer over the summer. I couldn't help but stare at his eyes which apparently were hazel and I needed to remind myself that he was Chase Denver. I should not patronize anything about him even if I was such a sucker for hazel eyes. I should―must―stay away from him.

And I did. "Sprinkles!"

"You lost your dog?" he asked.

"None of your business."

"Looks like you need some help." I heard him say as I looked through the bushes. Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him. "Huh, I sense a damsel in distress."

"I sense a devil in disguise!" I spat.

"Which also means, I look like an angel," he began. God, I hate him. So much. "Walk like an angel. Talk like―"

"Leave me alone, Elvis!" I grimaced, now facing him. "I don't have time for this."

"You sure about that?" Chase gave me a half-smile.

I snapped back to senses, trying to rethink what he just said.

"Yes," I mumbled, unsure.

All he did was shrug. He shrugged like he didn't care about a single thing in this world but himself. He was the most egocentric person I'd ever known. Like ever. I watched him jog his way back to the pavement, while I was in desperate state of finding my dog. Maybe I did need some help—no, no, no, no, no.

Bad idea.

Ugh.

"Wait!" It sounded too loud and too urgent for my liking. He stopped and turned back. Really, really bad idea. "You see, I need to find my dog." I cleared my throat. "M—maybe I could use some help?"

"Ah..." he trailed. "Just as I thought."

I knew he'd say that.

"Keep in mind, this will be the very first and the very last time I'm going to ask you a favor, Denver."

He smirked. "We'll see about that, Gregory."