Sage Heart
I'm still gawping at her. "Ange? What are you doing here at this hour?"
"It's Saturday," she states the obvious. "You always have trouble sleeping on Saturday nights," she says while letting herself inside my bedroom/living room. Like I said before, my house is small. My kitchen is also my dining room. As for my bathroom---my bathroom! I slap my forehead. "Just a sec," I tell Angel, who is placing two paper bags on my study table.
I rush into my bathroom, scoop my blanket-burrito-of-sleeping-cats into my arms, then unfurl the burrito when I reach my bedroom/living room. The six cats shake out of the duvet and spread onto the cold tiled floor in one fluffy mess. Some of them meow angrily while padding over to their assigned beds. Cat-Jungkook remains inert in the middle of the room, his belly rising and falling comfortably.
I glance at Angel. She's snickering into her palm, sparkling tears dotting the corners of her eyes. "It's typical of you to prioritize your cats, Sage."
My cheeks feel hot as I carry Cat-Jungkook to his plush bed. "You'll never understand because you don't love cats like I do."
She's already sliding open my closet and rifling through my rack of clothes. "Shirts, pants, shorts, sweaters, flannel pajamas, cat sweaters, cardigans, leggings, beanies, bucket hats, fedoras... You still do most of your shopping in the men's department?" She asks, agog. "And look at this. Your entire wardrobe is dominated by cat sweaters and leggings."
My whole face starts burning up. "I hate real pants," I say with a shrug, plopping on my bed.
"You don't even wear these in public," says Angel as she shows me armfuls of hangers containing pastel colored sweaters with realistic cat faces in the center.
"Those are for when I'm at home!" I yank the sweaters from her hands and hug them protectively against my frame.
By now Angel has journeyed deeper into the confines of my closet. She bends down, her back facing me, her long pink hair splayed out on the carpeted floor. "What's with these sealed cardboard boxes? Why are there so many?"
My heart beats in alarm. "Wait, Ange, don't--" I shoot up from my bed but it's too late. Angel has flipped open one of the boxes. She remains quiet, but I can sense the imminent tirade she's about to unleash upon me.
"Sage." I flinch. "Have you ever worn any of these?"
Despite my embarrassment, I cross my arms. "Of course I have."
"All of them?" Like a dealer moving her hand over a deck of cards, Angel proceeds to flip open the other six boxes. "Each box has at least twenty shirts, Sage! What on earth were you thinking?"
"They were on sale, okay!" I step into the closet. "See, each one is a different design." I then start describing each tee's pattern. "These are assorted pictures of J-Hope, and over there are various poses of Jimin. That box you're holding now contains printed shirts of Jin's face. Sitting in that corner is a box of Taehyung with his new dog. Each shirt in that box labeled Suga is Min-Yoongi with different hair colors. Next to that are t-shirts of Namjoon and Jungkook--Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Sage," says Angel gravely. "You need to get rid of these." I level her with an equally morose stare. "I can see your lips moving, but all I hear is nonsensical gibberish," I grumble.
"Well, if you're going to keep these, then at least wear them more often. They're crowding up your space." Her green eyes light up. "Or better yet, you can sell---" I clamp my hand over her mouth.
"I'll think of something, but I'm not going to put them up for sale. Just...just give me time...to move on." I dart a forlorn gaze over the seven boxes of B.T.S. shirts. I can't help choke a little at the mere thought of giving them away. But Angel's right, they do crowd up my space. I can either make more room for more.. or I get rid of them somehow in the least painful way possible.
"Did you come all the way here just to criticize my clothes?" I ask dryly while rising to my feet.
Angel also stands up, then faces me with a smirk. "Partly. But I also stopped by to see how you were doing." She surveys my expression. "How have you been feeling these days?"
"I..." Out of habit, I look at Angel's chest. It's glowing both white (pure) and purple (nervous/ anxious). When I lift my eyes up to hers, she's still smiling a smile of concern. "I've been better, but it could be worse," I admit with a weary sigh.
"Well, I know exactly what will cheer you up," says Angel confidently.
I watch as she struts over to my study table, where she had set down two brown paper bags earlier. She rummages in both paper bags and pulls out three black plastic containers, followed by two wide diaphanous plastic boxes. I stare longingly at the first three boxes. "Are those...?"
"Of course." Angel takes out two plastic spoons and forks, handing one of each to me as I step closer to where she's standing. "Your favorite. Green Tea Crinkles."
I sweep my palms over the lids of the black containers. "I crave these every single day," I say breathlessly while admiring the contents of the boxes.
"You can share some with your classmates on Monday," suggests Angel, her voice teasing.
"'Share?'?" I raise a brow at her. "Is that edible?"
An elegant laugh slips out of her mouth. "Sage, there are three boxes in all."
"Exactly," I say, nodding eagerly. "One for me, myself, and I."
Angel shakes her head in amusement. "Since it's nearly midnight and you're nowhere near sleepy, let's have an extra late dinner while holding a movie marathon." She hands me one of the two opaque containers which I see is full of deviled eggs, boneless fish, and steaming fried rice.
While arguing over which movie to watch as we sit on the cold, clean tiled floor, Angel glances at me with a look of anticipation on her face. "How long do you plan on wearing a mask in public?"
"I don't know, Ange." I breathe deeply, poking at my fish. "I've worn it for four years. Why should I remove it now?"
"Exactly. You've donned it for that long and nobody has recognized you, especially with your long bright hair. Maybe it won't hurt to let some people see your beautiful face?"
"I don't know," I repeat before chewing on some rice, and after swallowing, I continue. "What if someone gets suspicious?"
"Like who?" asks Angel,her voice and eyes sharp.
An image of Jae's face flashes in my mind, but I hurriedly discard the thought and show her a lazy smile as I say, "No one. I just want to play it safe. Why do you persist on letting me reveal my face anyway?" It's my turn to sound doubtful.
"Well,you're in college already," she states the obvious yet again. "You can just make up a generic excuse when someone asks you about the mask thing. Won't it be easier to eat, drink, and breathe if you remove the mask?" she ventures.
I stare at Angel, who knows she's proving herself right for the nth time. "I'll think about it," I say, hoping she'd be happy that I'll consider her crazy suggestion.
She beams and squeezes my shoulder affectionately. "It's movie time! I doubt we're going to get any sleep at all, so I just want to ask, Sage, if you have any plans later?"
I toss a bite of fish into my mouth before answering. "I'm meeting up with some classmates after lunch so it's fine." At my words, Angel nods her head, the worry melting off her pretty features. "So," she says mischievously while holding the remote control. "The Call or Friday the 13th?"
You've got to be kidding me.
