Sara Chan
Flashback
Every single day is like walking on thin ice. When my father's home, my mom is out partying or clubbing with her friends. When she returns, he's either in a business meeting or out-of-town business trip.
And when they're both here.. I feel as if the floor is covered in eggshells. Dad is acting like everything is fine, but I can see the pain in his brown eyes. He knows. I know he knows. Gossip spreads like wildfire, but with how mom is behaving, it's easy to see that a lot of it aren't rumors.
She has H.P.D. And she's cheating on dad.
Father is doing his best to cope with the situation. He's been nothing but patient and understanding. Considerate and determined to make things work so our family won't fall apart. In front of me, my parents put up a front, a charade where it's all fine. But at night, when I fake sleep, even with the thick walls, I can hear their voices rising and vases crashing and breaking.
Whenever I wake up, my eyes are red-rimmed, my throat feels dry, and my pillow is streaked with dry tears.
Do other twelve-year-olds endure this kind of suffering too?
Months pass, I graduate from grade school, and by the time I start high school, it's still the same battlefield at home. Tight silences over the dinner table, forced smiles during breakfast time, piercing screams every evening.
As a freshman, I'm unfamiliar with the hows and whats and whys of high school life. Who am I supposed to talk to? Which way am I supposed to go? And did that thing just crawl off its plate?
While roaming the hallway, I can sense everyone staring at me. Though I'm used to it, a girl can't help but feel self-conscious every now and then. What is it about me that people find so riveting? My shoulder-length black hair? My big brown eyes? My pale skin? My Asian features? Or the fact that I'm wearing my usual red turtleneck and below-the-knee skirt?
"Hi!" To my surprise, a girl with long, straight brown hair, neon-colored tank top and skintight jeans appears in front of me. "I'm Scarlet, but you can call me Scar. What's your name?"
"S-Sara," I stutter, taking her outstretched hand, shaking then releasing it. "I'm Sara Lee Chan."
"You're Chinese?" Her dark eyes are raking over my flustered face.
"Half, from my father's side."
Scarlet moves closer and loops her arm through mine. "We're going to be great friends, I can tell." She beams at me.
For the first few days of my freshman year, Scarlet helps me adjust to high school life. She seems to adapt quickly, and I simply follow suit. I always sit with her during lunch, and our table is always crowded with our classmates, including some from other sections. When Scarlet has trouble with homework, I help her out, and there are times she asks me to do them myself.
At first I was reluctant. But she said that's what friends are for, and somehow, though it felt kind of wrong, I end up doing her homework more often. It's the least I can do for her, right? She's my very first friend, the one who welcomed me with open arms when I felt lost and confused.
Come the second week of school, while I'm waiting for Scarlet to finish talking to her sophomore friends, she bids them goodbye, but as she turns to walk in my direction, I see that she isn't alone. There's a guy walking alongside her, and for a moment, the world freezes, and he's the only one I can see amidst the black surroundings.
Tall. Dark brown hair. Lean physique. The uniform fits him in all the right places. He looks like the kind of character you see in Webtoons. The type of character you drool over shamelessly.
I feel quite faint when Scarlet introduces me to the guy. I'm so busy ogling him, I don't catch his name immediately. What did he say? Damon? Damian? No, no..ah, it's Damien with an e. Damien, Damien, Damien. I long to utter the name out loud, when I'm alone in my bedroom.
Hello, this is my boyfriend, Damien.
Oh, hi! I'd like you to meet my husband, Damien.
I mentally slap myself. Get a grip, Sara. You just met the guy. I don't even know what his surname is. But I have a guess what mine will be: I'm going to become Mrs. whatever-his-last-name-is.
You can't judge a book by its cover, right? Who knows? He might be as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. And is he freaking gorgeous on the outside!
I soon learn his full name is Damien Huffman.
"Sara, right?" he asks, flashing me a sinfully handsome smile.
"That's right," I answer shyly.
Damien's smile grows wider. "You look cute today," he says, then spins on his heel and walks away.
I keep reliving that short exchange in my head over and over, replaying the cool way he looked at me, the speed of my blood rushing up my whole face, his smooth voice, the twinkle in his dark eyes.
The Damien Huffman. Captain of the basketball team, first in line for valedictorian. Cute, confident Damien, with his strong jawline and intoxicating grin. He thinks I, Sara Chan, look cute.
Suddenly all my personal problems at home seem so far away. The one comment leads to a lunchtime talk.. then to texting.. and then an actual phone call.
So when Damien asks me out on a date to Le Garret, the most extravagant restaurant in San Francisco, and tells me to "wear a dress," I do.
At twelve years old, I know I'm too young to have a boyfriend. I doubt my parents would approve of it, so I choose to keep our relationship a secret. It was Damien's idea, and I feel a frequent thrill at the notion of a hidden affair. Sneaking off to dates, deleting sweet texts, making up believable excuses which my parents buy.
Damien was so charming the first time.. and the second, too. And so, when he asks for those pictures, I barely hesitate. I pose.. then hit Send on the phone before I can think twice.
I don't realize the monumental mistake I'd committed until much later.
