"Hey there, courageous!"
James' voice echoed at the entrance of the mall as he waved. Umi could do nothing but reciprocate the gesture.
This might be the first time she regretted her decision to join the party. Was he even the right person to choose her 'armor?' James' coining her clothes as such was cringe enough. Yet here she was, days later, in a lopsided smile of embarrassment at his companion's enthusiasm.
"I even researched trendy women's clothes. I also have a list of boutiques, as well as the ones we can do af—"
"—Yes, yes. I get it, you came prepared." She had to cover his mouth, unable to look at a group of giggling friends passing by. "Can we walk without me dying in shame now?"
He nodded his head.
"Show me the list you're oh so proud of. Where do we go first?"
He pulled out a piece of paper from the back of his pocket. He read the shops in alphabetical order, noted those with ongoing sales and reviews online as they walked. He overdid himself, but Umi would rather bite her tongue than fan his ego and extend his babble.
Too bad for her, she lost. "Wow, you're good at this."
His knowledge of the color, style and even concerns if it matched her shoe was impressive.
"No, I'm not gay," he explained before she could add more.
"I haven't said anything yet. And knowing these things doesn't make you one, and vice versa." Then she whispered, "I wished you were though."
"Why not?" he answered, skimming through the racks of blacks, then placed his choice in front of Umi. "I'm not closing the possibility."
Her eyes flitted at his wiggling eyebrows, then to the ominous print on his shirt, Spicy Berry, his current band obsession. "Is that why you've been raving about their drummer lately?"
"Lee is a god," he gushed about the band man, then returned the dress on the rack. "And this expertise is based on experience."
"From?"
His fingers froze, blinking twice and his search for a perfect dress resumed. "Belle wanted to be a designer."
"Who?"
He did not answer. Giving him space to rebuild his composure, Umi didn't ask further and searched on the next rack and a minute passed in silence before he answered.
"My ex-girlfriend."
"...I see."
"Won't you ask me anything?" he added after another minute of silence, her back still on him.
Finally, she turned to search his face. "Would you like to answer?"
A smile appeared on his lips but did not reach his eyes. In truth, she had many questions but restrained herself. She understood the hesitation to share a past. At last, The Unstoppable and The Immovable had one thing in common.
"Umi, can I leave you for a while?" The moment they met eyes, she knew it wasn't a question, but a plea for him to compose himself alone.
"I'll just call Ethan to be with you. Finish the list."
She stopped him before he could dial the number.
"Don't bother him. I can shop alone."
"He's just drinking coffee somewhere. He knows we're going to the mall, but he's just too stubborn to show up."
She could no longer answer when he immediately handed the paper and mumbled a sad "Thank you."
Her pity in his tragic story was replaced with distrust at the scheming grin she caught before he turned around. James even dared to sneer and wink. "You guys should get along."
It took her a minute to process what happened and finally, put James on the list of people not to trust. She hurried out of the shop and lost balance because of a collision. A strong arm caught her before she fell.
"I told you before, being clumsy could kill you one day." Ethan scolded then helped her balance on her feet.
They were at a standstill. Days after the rooftop conversation with the hands clasped, the tension between them was palpable that even James noticed.
"Why can't you look at each other?"
"Did you guys fight?"
"What's with this awkward atmosphere?"
She and Ethan would not answer. No wonder James set them up with his sob story for an excuse. If not for the boutique security clearing his throat, they wouldn't have noticed that James still had his arms on Umi's waist and that they're blocking the entrance. The two separated to let a couple of giggling girls in between.
"I uhh ... I'm glad you're attending the party," he broke the silence.
Other than the melodious music of the shop, Umi could hear nothing but the little drum they called the heart. Hers.
"Did you choose a dress?"
"Not yet," she answered, unknowingly crumpling the paper in her palm.
"Let's choose now."
"Not here, please."
Everyone in the boutique was watching them now with expectation. A few giggles could be heard along with the song about first dates in the background.
"...Yeah, not here," Ethan agreed.
They followed the list and found a perfect black dress halfway.
"What do you think?" she asked, awkwardly turning around to show him. Its square-cut neckline design was simple and not too low. The A-line skirt was also just a few centimeters above the knee.
"Very pretty."
Umi opened her mouth to complain. When they said words could kill, it must be like this. Any moment now her heart would break her ribs, and that's not a good sign. They searched for shoes next. Umi found the destined pair displayed on the next shop's window.
Goals achieved, they ate by the park beside the shopping square. Not because they were somewhat hungry, but Umi, for the lack of a better word, almost 'begged' to treat Ethan as thanks. It was also the same place they had a picnic with Odi once.
With her chicken burgers, she resumed her habit of people watching. The different activities added to the color of the afternoon and the glow of the bulbs now slowly switched on around the park. The cooling night and receding heat from the afternoon, the darkness and remaining light, the noise of the previous day and the stillness of the night about to take over.
"We could've eaten at a restaurant inside the mall, you know," James commented beside her.
"We could. But isn't it better here?"
"Do you come here often?"
"Just a picnic with you guys," she replied. "But I love it here."
"Then, it's your favorite now?"
She tore her eyes away from a group of friends jamming to a guitar and a girl conversing with them in sign language. Umi looked at Ethan sipping on his cola, now basking with the orange sun. This place was indeed beautiful. "Maybe."
"You?" she asked after his silence. "Do you like this place?"
"Yeah," he answered, gazing right at her. "I do."
Umi isn't stupid to know why her heart was ramming that the beat spread to her stomach and overtook the butterflies unleashed inside to flutter. It terrified her. She'd really die soon at this rate.
"Let's go home," she stood, but Ethan pulled the end of her sleeve.
"A little more. Please Umi, let's stay here for a little more."
So she did, reclaiming her seat, still and quiet, even after Ethan asked, "May I?"
Mindlessly, she nodded.
From her sleeves, his hand slipped to her fingers until they were intertwined.
Did she have the right to be selfish and enjoy the moment with him?
To make Ethan hers in that period of time?
Only hers.
Umi leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulders, watching the tilted view of peace beyond them. Still yet spontaneous. Calm yet lively. If only she could hear every roar of his heart, even for a few seconds.
Is your heart beating fast too, Ethan?
Until her eyelids gradually became heavier, and before falling asleep, she heard a whisper.
"A little more. Just you and me... a little more."
_______________
A few days ago, just right after Umi scolded James for setting her up with Ethan, their discussion somehow ended with the concept of the Butterfly Effect.
He said it was a song from his favorite band, Spicy Berry, and that it was indeed fascinating. "Small changes in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state. Imagine how a butterfly flapping its wings could cause a storm somewhere, somewhen."
To which, Umi retorted that he got the definition from Wiki word by word to sound smart. He admitted, with a smug grin. Then it hit her, their lunch break already ended revolving around the topic and still no apology nor excuse from James.
The topic surged to her memory when a situation she was in now could be the result of one small change she made in the past.
Pauline and her lip tint happened.
It has become rare for their paths to meet in the past few days. And if they did, there was nothing much but them looking away to nonexistence. No side-eyes and mumbles. Just nothing. Yet now, inside the women's restroom, with only the two of them, it was not the case anymore.
Umi glanced at the lipgloss from Pauline's extended hand. "Here."
She was just frowning at her chapped lips a minute ago when the latter entered, and here they are. Except for a gentle drop of tap water, silence prevailed between them.
"You can use this," Pualine answered her wordless question.
Butterfly Effect.
Maybe the threads and slowly untangling, because somewhere in time one of them did something right to reach this point.
And soon, or maybe not too soon, all the tangles will be removed.
Then she could breathe better.
Umi reached for the lip tint, careful as she twisted the small tube and applied the glossy liquid on her lips. Just one sink away, Pauline was fixing her bangs.
"Thank you," Umi said as she handed back the makeup.
"The shade suits you."
"...Thank you."
The silence was suffocating so Umi bid her farewell.
"Mayumi."
She paused by the door and faced Pauline.
"Mayumi..." she repeated, her knuckles white as she gripped the lipgloss. "I'm—"
"—sorry," Umi cut her off. "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to."
She had no intention to destroy a family, but it has been done. Her mother died, but she was still there, existing, as proof of a man's infidelity. They're sisters, but for all the wrong causes.
"I'm sorry too," Pauline said, despite the confusion on her face.
Maybe it wasn't the Butterfly Effect, but a direct human intervention. James probably explained to Pauline the scope of their friendship and nothing more.
But who cares.
Her lips were now glossy.