Out Of Orbit | ✓

Chapter Three

Here it is. My dream came true. I am so excited and proud to say that The Cravat is finally open! Thanks to all my dear friends and family who supported me! 

Wait a minute. I read the caption a minimum of three times my mouth formed an o. Did I just meet with the Chef Sudeen? The most famous and popular chef in this town who supposedly works at the most elegant restaurant ever? 

"Oh my goodness," I muttered as I looked at the ceiling. I was one idiot. I had just assumed that he was some nobody like me when in reality he might be one of the most influential people I've heard of.

Well, no point in mulling over the past I assuaged to myself. I scrolled further down the pictures; most of which were the construction of the restaurant. When I reached the bottom, I was surprised to find a logo I recognized.

It was the logo for Brookside High School-my highschool! I felt a tingle of excitement as I scanned the year below the logo and was shocked to find it as the two years before I graduated. 

Could I have gone to school with Elijah Sudeen and not remember? 

But I didn't remember him at all. I didn't remember anyone named Elijah, or did I? 

I got up and then looked at the laptop and back down, scowling, "Let's see if Google can show me graduation pictures."

They call Google a-know-it-all for a reason and after some browsing, skimming, typing and facepalming I got my result. 

The picture was sort of faded but I could still make out a few faces I recognized. I skimmed the multitude of pictures and scrolled through the others I found from our school magazine. The magazine which I used to be in charge of. 

I smiled nostalgically over the memories that were embedded into every picture. I was the type of girl who wanted to participate in everything.

And I did.

I was part of the student council, a straight A student, a gardener, an actress, a screenwriter and so on. Once upon a time, I was remembered and loved and appreciated.

I blinked and took a shuddering breath when I heard Aloura toss on the mattress. I held my breath and sighed when it was near she wasn't awake. I was so glad Aloura didn’t keep me up all night. The first three years were dreadful.

If there was one good thing all those dreadful months before giving birth and the insults and the mortification had given me, it was Aloura. The pride of my heart, the angel of my life. The daughter I vowed to protect from the time I knew she existed.

As I absentmindedly scrolled, one particular picture caught my eye and I stopped. 

It was a picture of our food fest. The ones where the kids would cook up dishes and bring them to distribute and enjoy different foods from all over the world. 

It was a fun event filled with laughter and lots of delicious food. 

But that wasn't why I stopped. There was a boy in the photo, his grin small but his eyes sparkled as he held up a crispy paper like roll, a caption near it reading Masala Dosa - India. 

I looked at the poster behind him and was both surprised and unsurprised to see the very man I had been searching for. And as I stared longer at his face the memories began to trickle to the front of my brain. 

The boy sitting amidst the cafeteria, his nose in a book or scribbling something down while scooping a spoon of lunch in his mouth. A boy lingering behind as people talked and laughed. A boy who never talked before he was talked to, too quiet for his good. So I had tried to help make a few friends but he never budged. So in the end I let him be alone. 

I let out a snort at the thoughts. Who knew this quiet antisocial kid would one day become one of the best chefs ever? 

And who would ever have believed that the most flocked person in school whom everyone knew, would end up in a flimsy apartment with her daughter in the next room at such a young age? Who would have believed that the grades and A's weren't everything to life like it seemed back then?

I exhaled deeply, feeling the same pain I felt everyday from the past six years rattle through me. It was this perennial thread of knots and problems; one after the other. 

Ever since junior year, all it's ever been is trouble. My fingers traced the keys on my laptop before I closed it with a satisfying click.

There was nothing planned for tomorrow so I could sleep in. The idea was wonderful and I locked the doors and double checked the stove and went to my bedroom. 

The sky was dark and the moon was nowhere to be found. I crossed the room with the help of the night lit aglow beside the mattress and gently slipped in. 

My arms wrapped around Aloura's and I huddled closer to her, breathing her comforting scent. She mumbled in her sleep,  words that made no sense but still calmed my heart.

My eyes filled with tears at how unfair that this little soul already had hardships upon her, of how unworthy I was to have her.
I brought her closer to me and fell into a listless dream; ones of my past life, of school, of wonder, of quiet boys who ended up achieving their dreams.