Something Like Fate (editing)

Chapter 10 - 'I'd Make Wine From Your Tears'

There were certain signs that indicated that my mother was getting closer to the end of her pregnancy. First, she started eating everything and anything at all hours, not the usual midnight snack routine that ran in the family. Then I would have to deal with her relentless pursuit to get comfortable to no avail as she sat on the sofa and kept wriggling right and left, while her growing belly got in the way. She would mutter stuff to herself, channelling her frustration in a few carefully chosen words that she made sure that my little brother didn’t hear. And finally, the most revealing sign of it all was the planning she had undertaken with my father to get ready for the pregnancy:  the conversion of the guest room which had been adorned with pictures of Winnie The Pooh and a beautiful white crib that lay in the middle of the baby blue room. My parents were also trying to figure how their leave was going to work as my father insisted that he wanted to use his paternity leave after sixth months so my mother could go back to her work as a graphic designer.

They had been subjected to mockery by their friends, and even certain family members, for choosing my father to stay at home for the majority of my new sibling’s infancy but they didn’t care. HELLO IT’S THE 21ST CENTURY! If a woman decides to go back to work while her husband is looking after the children it doesn’t make her a bad mother. Men go back to work after the birth of their child and no one says anything about it. And it certainly doesn’t make a ‘man’ any less of a ‘man’ if he wants to look after his kids. It’s just foolish to try and enforce dated gender roles.

I mentioned this one day in the middle of the Valentines lunch, when I was stopped by Matt. Since that night in the club, Sean, Drew and Matt have been gracing us with their presence at lunchtime. Sean and Dina sat next to each other, and once in a while contributed to the conversation when they weren’t debating about how the other one was cuter, while Drew and Matt faced Lucy, Finn and me as they sat on the opposite side of the wooden lunch table.

It was awkward to say the least as Sean and Dina were in their own loved up world while Matt, although his heavily denies this, would try and woo Lucy with his goofy jokes, and then there was Drew. We had hardly spoken since the commencement of ‘truce’, and I would catch myself stealing glances at him while wondering what he was thinking as he quietly chuckled at something one of my friends said or when he would run his hand through his hair in obvious frustration at something while trying to keep a neutral expression. Even as he sat there now, with a small smile playing on his soft lips as he intently listened to my rant, and I wondered whether he found me to be boring and a ‘freak’ as Harry so kindly put it. I didn’t care what he thought yet I wanted to know the meaning behind his mix signals – was he smiling because he agreed with what I was saying or was he laughing at me? You’re reading way too much into it Sophia. The guy’s bipolar. End of.

“Omg,” Matt said rudely interrupting me. “What is up with this cheesy music they’re playing?”

We all stopped what we were doing and strained our ears to hear the music blasting from the other end of the cafeteria. Since it was Valentine’s Day requests were being taken as the DJ, a gawky looking first year student who looked like this was beneath him, played tunes which a bunch of teenagers thought defined their relationship. Right now, Whitney Houston was playing as some guy declared to girlfriend that he would ‘always’ love her – that’s weird because I’m pretty sure I saw him the other night sucking face with a girl in the year below us who had the worst pixie cut known to man.

“They need to play my girl Taylor,” Finn declared while putting his arm around me and pulling me into him.

I turned to face him so our faces were only a few inches apart and I could see the faint hint of freckles that graced his face as his hazel eyes were full of playfulness behind his black, nerdy glasses. We were pressed up right against each other, and instead of being repulsed as I would have if it was any other guy I found myself leaning into him because he was Muffin after all.