Jae Ham
"What.. what the hell?" I mutter upon seeing the bags under Sage's eyes, the pink blush staining her cheeks, the carefree droop of her blue-clad shoulders, which are covered by her long yellow hair, wavy and messy, with cowlicks and tangled strands.
"Heart?" "Yeah?" "Are you alright?"
Still smiling dazedly, Sage slides into her seat while staring into nothingness.
This unfathomable behavior continues the rest of the school day. When the lunch bell rings, I rise from my seat and collect my stuff, zip up my backpack, then sling the handles over my shoulders.
It's the second day Nate has been absent. Good riddance, if that's the case.
"Heart?" I call again as I watch her push back her chair and hoist up her backpack.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
Damn. What has been on her mind that's so distracting?
"I was just wondering.." I rub my nape. "..if you want to have lunch together?"
Finally, Sage's face clears, her brown eyes turning to look at me. "Sure. Is everyone at the garden already?"
My next words are lodged in my throat. But I manage to shove them out. "Actually.. I meant just.. just you and.. me." I catch her expression and quickly add, "If that's okay with you."
After some pensive seconds, Sage nods in response. We exit the classroom and stride in the direction of the cafeteria, where we grab some sodas and sandwiches, then veered off some corridors on our way to the sole abandoned building in university.
It used to be an indoor garden, but the structure fell into disrepair due to poor neglect and bad condition. A couple of rumors were even spread that ghosts haunted the place, but as I walk alongside Sage towards the former greenhouse, it dawns on me just how magnificent this must have been several years ago.
Despite multiple windows either cracked or missing, the once-glossy black paint peeling down the cement walls, and the mess of dirt and dead leaves trailing up the path leading into the entrance, the building still preserved some residues of its exquisite beauty.
The noon sunlight is slanting into the windows, creating golden patches on the dusty tiled floor. Clusters of brown robins are cozily sleeping in their nests perched on thick branches. Wilted flowers, which were undoubtedly once bright and full of life but withered over time, turning into grave shades of pruned gray and black, are scattered everywhere, amidst twigs and thin stems.
"This is where I usually go during lunch time." Sage ambles over to a granite bench which has a window that overlooks thick bushes and heads of trees, its leaves pressing into the panes.
She glances at me, and I take it as my cue to sit down across her.
"Doesn't it get lonely?" My eyes fall on the pale green cloth covering the bench. The fabric feels soft and cottony and somewhat new, causing me to assume that she put it here weeks ago.
I look at Sage in time to see her shrug with a frown. "Sometimes."
We unwrap our sandwiches and begin to eat, and in between bites, I try to fill the silence with random topics.
"Do you think there's a secret to being happy?"
"Of course there is," she says, indignant, her gaze on mine. "Just pretend you are happy, and eventually you'll forget you're pretending."
My forehead creases in disapproval. "I don't think that's right."
"I'm not surprised." Sage raises a brow at me. "You always contradict me."
"That's not-" I stop myself when I glimpse the smirk stretching her pink lips.
Sage chomps down on her sandwich and swallows before smiling up at me again. "Tell me what you're thinking, Ham. I'm always open to differing opinions."
"I think," I start and fold my arms, leaning my back on the window, my eyes locked on hers, "the key to being happy is to always be a child at heart. There's a difference between growing up and growing old. When you grow up, everything about you matures, but in growing old, only your mindset and physical form changes. Your heart remains the heart from your childhood."
When my eyes flicker to Sage's face, I'm taken aback by her stiff features.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No," she says with a head-shake. "I just knew someone who said the exact same thing. It's uncanny and bizarre, how your words matched his perfectly."
His?
Finishing her first sandwich, Sage reaches for her second. "Look at this," she says, leaning closer to the dusty window pane, which is long and narrow and full of cracks streaking across the glass.
"I'm not sure what I'm staring at." My eyes squint into the shattered window, only seeing green grass thrusting against the vertical rectangle covered with deep cuts.
"It's sad, isn't it?" Sage is studying the pane while chewing on her sandwich. "Even if the window gets replaced, it will never be the same as the old window. The new glass has never undergone all elements of time and the seasons. The old glass caught dirt, wind, rain, and dust until accumulating this many cracks and slices." Her fingers gingerly touch the broken glass, her eyes melancholic. "You can't fix something so shattered."
My eyes follow her fingertips on the pane. "What if the new glass is better?"
Sage looks at me abruptly. "Better how?"
"What if someone takes care of it daily? Like a plant. Watering.. cleaning.. nurturing.. cherishing.. Then the glass will become a more improved version of the old glass. What if-"
"I don't have room for what ifs!" "What?" I stare at her agitated face.
Sage ignores my question, lifting her wrist to check her watch. "It's a quarter to one. We better get going." She stands up and brushes the dust off her pants. She's about to march out when I ask the question that has been gnawing my brain:
"Were you ever going to tell me-anyone-about your cuts?"
The young blonde halts in her tracks. Her whole body is rigid, and she clenches her hands into fists. When she eventually spins around, I'm caught off guard by the fire sparking in her brown eyes and the frigid glare she's giving me is enough to freeze all of California.
"Knox told you, didn't she?"
I nod, confirming her suspicion. "I also saw the marks on your wrists last Monday."
Sage doesn't reply. But she doesn't leave either, so I stand up and slowly approach her until I'm at least ten feet away from where she is standing.
"Heart," I say in the gentlest tone I can muster. "If it's painful, you can share your problems with other people. It will make you feel better."
"Is that what you did after Kai died?"
Each word is like a dagger stabbing my heart, digging and twisting until I'm deprived of life. My jaw hardens. I ball my hands into fists at my sides, struggling to reign in my temper.
"You can't keep using violence to vent out your anger, Ham."
I scowl at Sage. "You didn't complain two days ago."
The blonde gasps. Fuming, she turns and storms out of the abandoned building.
