What We're Made Of.

TWO.

Apparently, if you drink orange juice right after brushing your teeth, they turn yellow. This isn't something I've tried, and I don't plan to. I'm still into the clean teeth extravaganza.

Gary Jules sings softly into my ear as I pick clothes at a random. I throw out a pair of jeans and a white tank top out on the bed. Hey, it's summer, and it's hot.

'Haru, come down for breakfast. The catering starts in twenty minutes!'

I let out a "yeah!" which gets muffled due to my speedy wearing of clothes, music still playing in my ears. Getting sweaty right after taking a shower is not quite ideal.

I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. 'What's cooking, Ma?' 'No time, Haruka. Grab an orange and let's move.' Not today, yellow teeth, not today. I groan and remove the left earphone. 'But I'm starving.' She sighs. 'Oh alright. Take a sandwich from one of the boxes. It's already in the car, so you be careful while taking it out. Don't mess my catering stuff.'

'Ma. I've been helping or more likely co-anchoring the catering since I was twelve. Do you actually have such little faith in your only son?' She chuckles. 'Oh, you. Stop being dramatic and let's get going.'

I put back the left earphone into my ear and a sense of satisfaction courses back through my lungs.

When we're going somewhere to cater, Ma runs through the whole menu, and I cross check. During this time, I can't be listening to any music apart from the nervous tremble in my mother's voice.

'Sandwiches?' 'Both bacon and chutney- check.'

'Lemons for drinks?' 's'there.'

'Kebabs?' 'Yep. Can I have one?'

'Just one. Brownies?' 'The kind that doesn't get you high? Present.'

'Not funny, babe. Mint ice cream?' 'Fresh. Ma, what about the tissues and all?'

'Already provided. Hey, you're getting better at this. Good for you, Haru,'

'Almost six years, Ma. Six years.'

Mrs Lehmann is the neighbourhood's friendliest old lady. That's saying a lot coming from me because I don't like old ladies. I don't even like people, for that matter.

Her idea of a Friday evening is a tea party. No, she's not British. She's just really nice and old-school.

The only (one of the many onlys) problem with Mrs Lehmann is that her friend circle goes as far as to back in her days. And it's only back in her days. Though I can't complain, it still gets boring making drinks for women with dentures for six hours. I should have more than two kids, I get it, Mrs Felds. I got it the first hundred times you told me- your head swaying side to side, mouth smelling of booze.

The Lehmanns also have a big house that looks like someone uprooted it from the coast (a few hours away) and dropped it into the least beach looking neighbourhood ever. Still, it's quite magnificent. Colour wise, it seems neutral. Ma says the walls are off-white and the roof tiles are "woody red". They even made sure there was beach sand all around the house to go with the entire summery vibe. It's quite massaging for your feet.

Ma parks right opposite the beach house and it seems that people had already arrived. My social anxiety starts to build up in my throat and I let out a nervous "haaah", earning the typical stink eye from Ma. 'You need to start learning to talk to people, babe.'

'All in good time, mother.'

'God knows when that'll be.'

'I'll get the stuff out of the back seat.'

'I didn't mean to make you-' 'No, you didn't. Let's just please go.'

Ma gives me a look mixed with motherly affection and apologies, so I turn away. I can't deal with her when she takes me on her daily guilt trips. I know she wants to know me. I get it. But how am I supposed to communicate a chaos in me that even I don't understand?

I'm pretty sure that the catering equipment is the weight of seven of those fat encyclopedias, but I've gotten tired of telling Ma to buy a trolley for it. She says that it is "being lazy" so I've given up. Hernias can't be all that bad, right?

Once we set up the tables and it looks okay, Ma tells me to change.

'Excuse me?' 'Honey, you have to change out of that. This is a formal party. I brought you Pa's suit and tie.'

'It's in the middle of goddamn summer, Ma.' 'I am sorry for doing this to you, but please just wear the clothes. Don't cause a scene. These people are probably impaired anyway.'

'A poor excuse for a joke, but I'll take it.' 'I knew you're my son for a reason. Okay, so the clothes are in a bag underneath the sandwiches.' 'Underneath sandwiches? Ma, what if they got spoilt?'

'But they didn't. So take out the bag, and find a restroom inside the house.' 'Rude, but 'kay.'

As I walk up the porch steps, the anxiety lodged in my throat starts to suffocate and I keep breathing deeply. I hear Mrs Lehmann's sweet laugh coming nearer so I just stand near the door, clothes in hand. When she sees me she comes over and pulls my cheeks.

'Oh Haro! Look how you've grown! You're quite handsome now!'

'I just saw you a month ago, Mrs Lehmann. I couldn't have gotten a lot more since then, surely,' I say smiling between her fingers.

She lets go of my face and puts her hands on my arms instead. 'So what can I do for you, Haro?'

'I, um, was looking for the restroom. Ma wants me to change.'

'Oh, don't listen to her. You look alright.' 'I wish she thought so too, but she doesn't.'

'A son's to do what a son's to do, oh well. The third door to your left.'

'Ah, thanks, Mrs Lehmann.' She plants a wet smack on my forehead and rushes out the front door.

When I get to the bathroom, I realize it's much bigger than I thought. I go in, and try to bolt the door. That's when I notice that it doesn't lock. Oh well, no one's going to come in. I won't even take that long. I take off my tank top and grab the dark coloured shirt. Checks? Really, Pa? I start to put on the buttons; bottom to top. See, Haru? No one's come in.

At that moment the door swings open and a boy who didn't look much older than me stands at the entrance, clothes in his hands, looking bewildered. To be fair, I said nothing about barging in. My heart beats faster.

The world transforms; light to dark; monochrome to colour. He has those earthy coloured eyes. Blue-green was it?

(A/N): A long chap :)