I miss you Shasha, I miss you so much.
For the pain I saw in your eyes, for the anger that made your body tremble, for your broken heart, and for the many tears you've probably shed, I truly am sorry. Please forgive me...
It is common knowledge that there are at least two sides to one story. As an Icelandic proverb says: "A story is only half told if there is only one side presented." Unfortunately, as she has now labeled me a traitor, Shasha will never in a million years give me a chance to tell mine. I know her like the back of my hand.
That's why I believe what I'm about to do will help appease her resentment towards me. Even though mum might never forgive me, I'll still take the risk in order to regain Shasha's trust, because actions speak better than words. I know just saying sorry will never be enough. So I'm ready to make this much of a sacrifice. For her.
First of all, before I go further into the details of what happened, right here and now, I have to state that there is one thing the people around me hold true: Quincey and Shannon hate each other.
It's a statement of fact. Quincey and Shasha are like cat and dog. They can not stay together in one room without bickering. When I'm with Shasha we can talk about anything except Quincey. For some reason, he can not be mentioned. She gets annoyed when I talk about him. No matter how banal what I say is. Just talking about how well he did during our boxing sessions for example, sets her off.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to hear it?" She would groan. "Keep it to yourself."
When I'm with Quincey, same thing. I love the both of them dearly, but if you don't know your way around it, they are both extremely difficult to handle, even more so when they are together. So I had given up on trying to make them get along. It was hopeless, until very recently, just before summer break.
Not too long ago, before Shasha was taken away to her aunt's place, because of the divorce, for the first time a glimpse of hope appeared. Then I had this insane crazy thought: maybe, just maybe, they didn't really abhor each other, and it's actually the contrary. It was after the ticket incident, when I had chosen to spend time with Shasha, instead of going to the concert with Quincey. He is very important to me, but no matter the situation I would always choose Shasha before anyone else.
Neither of them talked to me about what happened exactly, but I knew they fought, and that it was more serious than the other times. It hurts me anytime I see them get into a heated fight. But it had never been to the point of them not talking to each other. Yet, that's when the glimpse of hope appeared, on the last day of school just as we were about to leave through the gates.
I caught Shasha unawares as she stared at Quincey who was once again being monopolized by Zane. She had her head slightly tilted to the side as she let out a silent long sigh. She looked sad, even though her eyes were on him, she looked like she missed him. This is just my interpretation of course, but I'm pretty sure I'm right about that. I don't think she realized how much she looked at him that day. At first I was a little confused, maybe I saw wrong.
Then when she looked away, it was Quincey's turn to gawk at her. Once again, just my interpretation, but his gaze on her was more intense, impatient, like a drug addict that didn't get his doze, but is looking at the drug right in front of him, yet he can't have it.
I know it seems like nothing, after all they just looked at each other. But there was something there. Something that I hadn't seen before. That's when I started thinking, 'What if...'
When I shared my theory with mum, she looked at me like I had gone mad. It sounded absurd, two people who have hated each other from day one. But it was possible, and it would have been so perfect.
Quincey is the only guy I would entrust my fragile Shasha to without any worries, because I know for a fact that he would take very good care of her. He would satisfy her need for security. With him, she would never have to worry about long-term commitment. Not only would he care for her, he's also the only guy I know that can handle her. I'm referring to the real feisty Shasha, not the polished version of herself she shows at school. I don't believe Orson would be able to manage. That is if she ever shows him her real self, the one Quincey already knows all too well.
I'm not saying Orson won't take care of her. But beyond that, he's too... compliant. At least for her. She's too much for him to handle. She needs someone who can stand strong against her when she's being pushy. Someone who can call her out on her mistakes or wrong attitude, and tell her the right thing to do. Orson won't be able to take in her fits of anger, or make her listen when she's being stubborn, only Quincey can do that.
As for Quincey no one other than Shasha can make him simmer down. I've seen it a few times, with just one quick look from her, his shoulders droop. Even I'm not able to calm him once he gets angry. I thought it was more of a battle of power when they exchanged a look and he backed down. He would just stop arguing or getting upset so suddenly it was always surprising. I I used to think:"Oh Shasha won again." However, looking back, with my new theory that they did not hate each other, it seemed that it was actually Quincey choosing to give in to her. Quincey choosing to give someone the upper-hand over him.
That's not the Quince I know. He's not the kind of guy that'll "let it slide". Once you provoke him, no matter who you are, girl or boy, you'll get it. In fact, when he was younger he didn't hesitate to get into fights with guys who were two, three years older than him. So he's not the kind to back down from anything or anyone. Yet, only Shasha is able to tame him. It's only in front of her that he becomes weak.
To me, they are the perfect fit.
But you can't force love. You can't push two people to fall in love, no matter how perfect they may be for each other.
*************
"I don't want to go Titi," Shasha and I were hugging at her door step.
The summer before our last year of high school, was the first we didn't spend together since we met. I'd say that's where everything began. That summer was the starting point of everything.
It was around 10:30 am, her parents were waiting for her in the car. One interesting thing that day, is that Quincey had come by my house quite early. The day before, I complained to him that Shasha would be going to her aunt's place at 10:30 am. Somehow, by 9:30 am that day, he was at my house. I asked him why he came, but he just shrugged. A few days ago, the last day of school, the glimpse of hope had appeared, and Quincey actually waking up early to come see Shasha before she left for the whole summer, gave me even more hope.
As Shasha and I hugged, I saw him with the corner of my eye going in and out of my house. He looked at us, scratched his head, then went back in. He came out again, did the same thing, sighed, then went back in. At that point I was pretty sure he didn't just come to hang out with me, but to see Shasha off, at least greet her or something. I giggled, it was funny to see him that way.
"What is it?" Shasha asked pulling away to look at my face. "How can you be happy when we're saying our farewell?"
"No, of course I'm not," I held her hands, wondering whether I should tell her about the mystery guest that was spying on us.
I had been trying to stall to give Quincey time to make up his mind and come say bye to her, but he didn't. I saw Mr Dugray behind Shasha, I call him Mitch, gesturing to me that it was time for her to go. I nodded, then I looked to the right, at my door, and saw Quincey standing there staring at us. More precisely at her, and she was staring back at him.
I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips. I don't care what anybody says, I know it was not just my imagination. There was something there. There was something between them, and it just felt so right.
"Shannon," Mitch tapped her shoulder, pulling them away from each other. "It's time to go."
"OK," she answered without looking back at him.
Now's the time Quince, I called out to him with my mind as Shasha and I hugged again. She's about to leave. You should at least wish her happy holidays.
He just ran his fingers through his hair and went back into my house.
"Tch," Shasha uttered looking at him go. "He's already here to take my place huh?"
"What? No, I'm sure he wanted to greet you."
"Yeah right," she rolled her eyes.
She kissed my cheek, promising that she'd try to call everyday. Just before she entered the car she looked back at my house, but Monsieur Quincey Mason didn't show his face. She let out another sigh before going into the car, and that was the last I saw of her through out summer.
I went back home to see Quincey slumped in the couch in the living room. It's times like these that make me want to hit that head of his. Why couldn't he just set his stupid pride aside and come up to Shasha to greet her? He was holding a lollipop in his hand, using his thumb and index finger to turn it as he looked at it with a frown. I sat beside him, and snatched it from him.
"Hey!"
"Was this for her?" I noticed it was strawberry flavor. "How did you know this is the flavor she likes?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Isn't it for Shasha?"
"Um... No," he stood up. "I brought it for you."
I laughed.
"You don't even know how to lie," I stood up as well, and gave the lollipop back to him.
"Believe whatever you want," he shoved it into his pocket.
I looked at him trying to figure out what he was thinking. He might not know how to lie, but he sure doesn't easily reveal the truth. It's hard to get something out of him if he refuses to say anything. What I usually do is say things that would make him twitch, react, break out of his straight face for even a slight moment. Then I'm able to get my answer.
"What if I tell you she has no intention of coming back?"
"Tsk, nonsense."
I smirked, keeping my eyes on him as he intentionally looked away from me. I was set on proving I was right, proving that Quincey didn't hate Shasha as much as it seemed. So I needed to make him slip, let down his mask. I needed to dig the truth out of him without him noticing.
"It's possible," I folded my arms. "She told me she's thinking of staying with her aunt, maybe go to school there for the next year."
"Huh?!" he raised his brows.
"Yeah," I sighed. "But of course you don't care."
"Uh..."
"She's going to be gone for awhile."
"But... Why?"
"Something about her feeling a bit uncomfortable about something."
"What? And you just let her go?" he looked at the door like he was about to run to it.
"You're the one who let her go without saying goodbye," I pointed my finger at him like he was an accused in a court room.
"Why would I greet her?" He brought my hand down. "Anyway, when is she coming back for real."
"Why do you care?" I crossed my arms.
"Well, I..."
"That's true," mum said as she entered the living room looking suspiciously at Quincey. "Since when do you care?" She folded her arms like me and stood by my side, the both of us facing him.
"I don't." Quincey shook his head.
"As a matter of fact," mum smirked, "it seems like you actually care. A lot."
"I do not."
"Yes you do," mum and I retorted.
"I have to go," Quincey groaned, then briskly walked towards the front door.
"Hmm, hmm. There may be something there that wasn't there before," mum teasingly sang as we watched him leave.
I fake gasped.
"What's there momma?"
He turned back just as he was about to open the door. Mum and I smiled then waved at him, he just shook his head like he was looking at two crazy dorks, then he left. I turned to mum with a glowing grin on my face.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself ma chérie (my dear)."
"Oh come on!" I was hyped. "He clearly came to see her off, that has to mean something."
"I don't know."
"But you agree that he came to see her off?"
She shrugged.
"Ugh."
"I don't want to give you false hope," she rubbed my arm.
"My life would be so perfect if those two could just...," I intertwined my fingers.
"I know, I know."
"What I need is an insider that can infiltrate his mind."
She chuckled. In spite of all the children and teenagers mum had taken care of or come across during her life, Quincey remains even for her a difficult one to decode. However, I do believe I am able to see through his shenanigans to hide his thoughts, just as I am able to see through Shasha, or so I thought.
I started to walk towards the stairs to go to my room, but mum called me back.
"Hmm?"
"Sit down," she gestured to the couch, as she went to sit on it.
"What is it?" I asked as I sat next to her.
"Ma chérie," she started, "I know this might not be the best time, but if I don't tell you this now, I may not be able to later on as you'll be busy with your friends this summer."
"Shasha is not here mum. Lady and Kenneth had the permission to go on a cruise, and Cindy went on holidays with her parents. Plus, you've seen Quincey, he's put on his grumpy face."
"Eh bien (Expresses irony), I guess you don't have any other friends."
"I don't feel like hanging out without Shasha."
Mum put on an exaggerated pout on her face, making me let out a stifled laugh. I love her. I don't know if I am so close to her because dad is no longer with us, but I am happy about how well we get along.
"Tiffany," the tone of her voice changed to a serious one. "What I want to talk to you about is important."
My heart started beating faster, because anytime mum calls me "Tiffany", instead of "Ma chérie", either it isn't a small matter, or she's about to scold me.
"Tiffany...," she repeated my name, "it's... Um..."
"Mum, you're scaring me."
"Oh OK. Yes, sorry. It's about the house."
"You mean our house, with dad?"
"Yeah."
"What about it?"
I had already guessed what she was about to say. In spite of my efforts to stay indifferent, I felt my throat squeeze.
What mum didn't know was that from time to time, I went back to the house alone, stood in front of it, and cried my heart out. In front of that house I could remember him perfectly. Dad was so warm, he was always jolly and always had a smile on his face. At least, that's how I remember him.
Sometimes, out of the blue, I realize how much I miss him, and how big of a hole he left in my heart. I remember how he used to carry me on his shoulders, how he tenderly tucked me in at night. I remember the smell of mint that was permanently on him because he loved mint tea, and I loved the smell. Sometimes when he hugged me, I'd take in a deep breath of that wonderful mint odor on him. The house made those memories more vivid in my mind, it was so important to me.
"Tiffany," mum continued after a little pause as she gathered her thoughts. "I asked you if it was OK for me to sell the house."
"Yes."
"You said I could do it, that if I found a good buyer I shouldn't hesitate. You remember?"
"Yes."
My voice shook a bit, but I controlled my tears.
"Tiffany..." mum perceived it, and tried to give me a hug.
I gently pushed her back, because I knew it would only make me want to cry more.
"I'm OK," I lied. "Continue."
"Very well. You know, I really tried to wait for as long as possible, so you could get used to our new house and become attached to it. But maintaining that house and this one is taking a toll on our finances. Plus, there have been a lot of families wishing to move in and create their own memories."
"I understand."
"Ma chérie," she held my hand. "I wouldn't just choose anybody, because I want the house to be taken care of, it's important to me too."
"Je sais, (I know)."
"I found a good buyer who insisted a lot because he and his family fell in love with the house. I met them, they're very nice. Bref, (in short), I sold the house to them, and they're moving in this summer."
I knew the day would eventually come. However, when it did, it seemed surreal. Our house was no longer ours. It was like a definitive goodbye to dad, abandoning any hope of him ever coming back. I understand, I really do. We had to let go of the house, we couldn't hang on to it forever. But still... It was our house, filled with our precious memories.
I stared blankly at the floor, not knowing how to take in the information. I felt mum squeeze my hand tighter, waiting for me to respond, but I didn't.
"I'm so sorry ma chérie," she said. "Maybe I should have told you about it earlier."
"Non maman (No mum). You did the right thing."
"Are you OK?"
"Yes, I'm fine," I lied again.
Mum looked deep into my eyes then wrapped her arms around me.
"I know you can handle it," she whispered softly. "My little Edelweiss."
When is it going to stop, I thought as I hugged her back. When will the pain go away?
At that point I was pretty much sure my whole summer was ruined, especially since Shasha was not near me. I already imagined spending everyday with a plastered fake smile on my face to reassure mum. I imagined wetting my pillow with my tears at night, crying silently, desperately.
But that was before I met him. Before our paths crossed. He was like an angel sent down from heaven to save me. I didn't know then that I was about to have one of the best summers in my life thanks to him.
My Orson.