Alice's POV:
Two weeks have passed since Randy's death.
Two weeks after I saw Carla.
I've been calling her, but Carla's phone was off or, more specifically, canceled. I tried calling her house, but no one picked up.
Throwing my phone down, I rested my elbow against the couch armchair staring at the black television screen. The couch beside me creaked, and Neilson rubs my arm, "Hey, it will be okay," he comforts me as I laid my head on his shoulder.
I bit my trembling lips, "What if something happened to Carla?"
Neilson held me tighter, "Oh no no, Angel, don't think that."
"Carla is pregnant, and Rand-" I couldn't speak any further, only dug myself into his chest, a muffled cry lingering in the air as Neilson patted my back, attempting to soothe me.
After several hours of crying and a mountain of used tissues, I finally calmed down. Neilson handed me a cup of hot chocolate, brushing my wet hair back. I pulled the soft blanket over me, feeling the warmth of the container as the mellow scent of chocolate invaded my senses. I sip on the liquid, exhaling a long breath.
"Have you tried calling her house?" he asks.
I nod, "No one is picking up. I even tried to go to her house, but no one opened the front door no matter how much I rang the bell."
"What about everyone else? Did they manage t-"
I shook my head, "No one heard from her since Randy's funeral."
"Have you gone to Randy's house?"
I look at him, taking a few blinks. "No, I haven't."
I laid the cup down, allowing the blanket to fall off my lap. Neilson grabbed my wrist, pulling me back on the couch. "It's late. You don't want to disturb Mrs.Ricci. Go tomorrow morning."
The next morning, I drove to Randy's house. Parking my car on the street, I turned on the alarm and walked towards his house. I stopped staring at the dead yellow grass hiding behind a metal fence. I took a step back, noticing his home looked like every single one locating in the street. The cream paint was chipping off of the walls while wild vines climbed up in the corners. The glass was cracked, handed together by a window frame with large flakes of white paint lying like dandruff. The place was old, and it looked abandoned.
Clutching onto my purse, I stepped forwards towards the red front door and knocked twice. I would ring the bell but remembered it's broken, and they didn't have any spare money to fix it. After some long silence, I knock again, wondering if Mrs.Ricci is working. The second she was released from the hospital, she started working still, wanting to keep her mind off Randy.
I look through the smudged window and scream: "Hello? Is anyone home?"
I knock at the door again, then turn towards the street, releasing a sigh. The door creaks open, and I spun around, eyes meeting with steel blues. "Carla?"
My body slams against her, and she chuckles, "What's up?"
"What's up? What's up?! Carla! You haven't been in school for like two weeks! No one can reach you! What do you mean what's up!" The tears were leaking from my eyes before I knew it.
She gave me a small smile, "I'm sorry. My parents cut off my phone line."
"Carla, why are you here?"
Scanning her body, I realized she was in blue and red boxers with a large white t-shirt with a yellow stain on the side, which I assumed to belong to Randy. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up into a messy side bun that covers her swollen red eyes.
Carla rubs her nose, "Want some tea?" she asks.
I nod, closing the front door. Following behind her, the floorboards were creaking, filling up the heavy silence. There was a low dripping sound in the corner of the room, and I noticed the leak on the roof. When we entered the kitchen, the supposedly white tiles were stained brown with the noisy hum of an old refrigerator. Carla set two cups on the chipped vinyl counter then laid two bags of tea inside. I put my purse on the table and watched her pour hot water into it.
Carla hands me a cup. "Come on, let's go into the living room."
We settled ourselves on the creaking brown couch that seems to be covered with stains, yet the color blended everything out. I never noticed how Randy's house looked like because I visited him most at night since his father is always at home during the day. He doesn't want me to meet his father, afraid he might bother me.
My eyes scan the area, realizing this wasn't a place to raise children, yet Randy grew up in this same house.
Settling my eyes at Carla, she comfortably sat there, rubbing her stomach as she stared at the picture of Randy when he was younger.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling the warmth of the cup.
She let out another smile, but her eyes weren't. "I told my parents about the baby, and they disown me," she chuckled unamusingly, "Well, more like they told me to get an abortion or get the fuck out of their house."
I set both cups down. Carla takes a sniff, and I wrap my arms around her as she cries on my shoulder. I patted her back, feeling my chest tighten. "They said they don't want me, someone who brings shame to the family," her voice was low and crack. "Then, they insulted RaeRae, calling him a hooligan. So, I got angry and told them that Satan has a special place for them in hell how they will regret kicking out their grandchild. Then, I packed a bag full of stuff and left."
I gave her a tissue, and she blew it. "Why didn't you call me or come to me?"
She shook her head, "Alice, don't lie to me, I know you have problems of your own. I can't come to you. Plus-" she shrugs, "I like being here," her eyes scan the room, "I like being at the place where RaeRae grows up." She bit her lower lips, a single tear dripped down. "It makes me feel like he is still with me."
After some time, Carla started calming down, and we sat there, sipping the warm tea. "How is everyone?"
"Worried about you."
She smiled, "That's nice."
I laugh, "To have people worry about you?"
Carla nods, "Yeah. Alice, I grew up seeing nothing but fake people around me. Then I met you and Nina. You guys are awesome. If it weren't for you two, then I wouldn't meet RaeRae than Ian and everyone else. I wouldn't have any real friends," her voice shakes near the end.
I held her hand, noticing her nails weren't their usual, perfectly pointed tip. "We will always be here for you."
She laid her head on the couch. "Thank you."
"What are you going to do next?"
Carla exhales, setting her cup down. "I don't know. I'm 18 already, so my parents aren't my guardians. I'm cut off until I get an abortion, which I won't do. So, I'm going to see how things go. Probably graduate and get a job to help Mrs.Ricci with the bills. Plus, she is sick. She shouldn't be working so much."
"What about Stanford? What about your dream of developing some novel nanotechnology device where you can treat cancer?"
She pushes a strand of unmanageable hair behind her ear. "Everyone has a dream. A dream is beautiful, but reality can be quite ugly." She placed a hand on her stomach, "As an adult, there are responsibilities and sometimes, those responsibilities get in the way of dreams. Sometimes, we have to settle our dreams aside, and others, you have to give it up entirely."
"Don't give up on your dream."
She smiles, "I'm not, I'm just taking a break, and that's okay."
I frown.
"Whatever I did, I do not regret it. I do not regret carrying RaeRae's baby. I do not regret loving him. I do not regret any of this because I had a choice at that time, and I choose to be irresponsible. However, out of the irresponsibility, what I see is not a piece of luggage, but a gift from heaven."
I placed a hand over my mouth and cried while she smiles dearly at me. Resting my forehead on her shoulder, Carla held me tightly. "I will be okay, Alice. Don't worry," she whispers gently, rubbing my back.
After my cry fest, we spend the day together, chatting about meaningless stuff. Many people say it's useless talking about the small things like a dull old photo hanging on the wall, but it's much more than that. Not many realized that meaningfulness and meaningless are relative terms of how everything was based on perception. One may feel it's trivial, but to another, it's everything. For Carla, that old photo of Randy gives her a glimpse into his childhood, the joy he finds rolling in the mud.
"How much do you know?" I ask.
She took both empty cups and walked into the kitchen. "About RaeRae's life?"
"Yeah."
Carla turns on the water, silently washing the two cups while I lean on the counter, seeing a cockroach crawling by. My eyes traced towards Carla, seeing her tremble lightly. Carla grew up in quite a wealthy household, so she isn't accustomed to this lifestyle. I grab a shoe and smash the cockroach, then throw it away in the trash can.
"Thanks," she giggled nervously, "I still can't stand them. Mrs.Ricci has to kill them for me."
"It's no problem."
She released a hazy breath and stood beside me, leaning against the counter. "I know that RaeRae's dad borrowed a lot of money from the Russian mafia. He is also an abusive alcoholic and drug user. He ran away, leaving them with debt. So, RaeRae started dealing drugs to pay off the loans."
"That's all?"
"I know he is also hiding other things, but I'm certain he has a reason why. Regardless-" she smacks her hands on the tiles, tilting back and forth, "his background doesn't matter to me. I love RaeRae for him, not his background."
I smile, "You're amazing. You know that?"
She flips the strands lingering on her face, "I know."
The whole evening I helped Carla with some chores around the house to make it a bit safer to live in. My main job was to crush any cockroaches that crawl out. I gave myself a gold medal because I killed a small bag full of them.
I hug Carla, "I'll visit you soon."
Carla smiled, "Can you tell everyone I'm fine?"
I nod, "Of course, but they would want to know where you are, especially Nina. She's been waiting for you in front of the school every morning. She was even late for her classes a few times, just in case you come late."
Carla laughs, "Wow, Nina Lun was late for a class? I must be fucking special."
"You are."
"Tell her I'm fine, and she can come to visit anytime she wants."
I chuckle, "You would probably see her tomorrow then."
"I look forward to it."
We hugged again before I went back home.
Unlocking the front door, I hung my coat and purse. The room was dark, silent, except for the low dripping in the kitchen sink. I closed the place and made my way to the couch. The only source of light was the moonlight beamed through the thin, light blue curtains. The darkness in that way felt like a sanctuary, a place to recharge and forget the things in the world.
The phone rang, disturbing the silence. I looked at the screen: Mr.Davenson.
There was a part of me telling me not to pick it up, but I knew I had to do it. "Hello?"
"Alice, we need to talk," his voice sounds deadly, not mellow like usual.
I laid my head on my palm, feeling a headache emerging. "What is it?"
"Are you in a relationship with an Italian mafia member named Neilson Esposito?"