PHOENIX
After turning on some music, I flop down on my bed. I look at the paper bag, smiling. I carefully remove the Post-it with the phoenix sketch, open the book on my bedside table and stick the note on the inside of it. Then I open the bag. I take out piece after piece everything that's inside; it feels like opening a Christmas present.
Two sandwiches, a pear, an apple, cookies, coffee, water, and various snacks and sweets. On some of them Aza has put little Post-its with messages. For example: The coffee is black and says it matches your soul, the pear says we'd make a cute pear, and one of the chocolate bars says a snack for a snack. I read all the notes, grinning like an idiot, and end up sticking all of them into my book. I send Aza a message saying thank you for saving my life. Then I, finally, start eating.
Her response comes about half an hour later.
that's what superheroes do
you're welcome
I immediately text back.
so now you're a superhero?
i've always been
in fact, superhero is my middle name
no it's not
nope, it really isn't
i don't have one
you should have, it should be 'dork'
pretty sure that's illegal
i don't care, it suits you
fuck you
what's yours?
don't have one
you're lying
how do you know?
rich people always have one
fuck you
tell me
please
don't laugh
i won't
well
well?
océane
really? phoenix océane leflore?
hahahaa
that's so fancy, love the accent mark btw
fuck you
i love it, seriously
you're fucking with me, right?
i wish i was ;)
you're a dirty creep
and you love it
hm
i really love your name tho
it's unique
special
pretentious
pretty
chic
ridiculous
rare
over the top
*under the top ;)
you're unbelievable
i know
stop fishing for compliments, princess
i like your name
i like your name, it's different
i know
shut up
I wait for a response, but she doesn't text back. So I grab a book and start reading. After a few pages, I check my phone. Still no response. I continue reading, checking my phone every now and then. After having read a few chapters, I give up. I text Aza.
didn't mean that literally
come back
please?
didn't expect you to be so needy
you're like a baby
didn't expect you to be so easily offended
i'm not
it's not you, it's me
sorry?
i had to work, princess
oh
i still do
sorry
text you later?
okay
i can't wait
that sounds so sarcastic
it's not
it's not?
nope
i actually can't wait...
...for work to be over. it's exhausting
oh shut up
see you later, baby :)
Aza called me baby. Because of what she said before, I'm pretty sure that for the most part she's joking, but I like to think there's also some part of her that's flirting with me. Aza called me baby.
Someone knocks at the door. I quickly turn off the grinning, pick up a book and open it.
"I'm going out. A meeting with some people. Will you be fine?"
"Yeah. Sure."
My mother looks at me, giving me the feeling that her green eyes are scanning me. I put the book aside and sit up a little straighter.
"What? Do you want me to come with you?"
She squints her eyes and says, "Is that a new shirt you're wearing?"
Fuck. The shirt I'm wearing right now is the one Aza gave me. It smells like her, and it looks like it could belong to her because, well, it does.
"No, it's not. It's an old one of mine."
"Really? I could have sworn I've never seen it before."
It's funny. It's funny how my mother notices me having a new shirt, yet she doesn't notice something like me having a new haircut. After Xander's death, I cut off more than half of my hair because, well, that's what you do when you lose someone, right? In movies the loss of someone is usually followed by the protagonist changing their look for no real reason except that someone died, so that's what I did. I gave myself a bob, thinking that there must be a reason why they always do that - like relief, or satisfaction, or comfort, or something like that.
Well, I didn't feel any relief, or satisfaction, or comfort, or anything like that. As a matter of fact, I didn't feel any different than I did before. I still felt like shit. Maybe I actually felt like even bigger shit. The girl Xander knew, the girl who knew Xander, the girl with long hair was gone. She was gone, just like him. I kept the hair, maybe because I grew to like it, maybe as a reminder that I am not the person I was anymore. When he died, a part of me died too.
My mother didn't comment on the fact that I suddenly had short hair, when all I ever had my entire life had been long hair. As a matter of fact, I came home, she looked at me for about three seconds, then said, "We're out of energy shots", and then left the room.
"So that girl that came by today," my mother says. "That Aza girl."
"What about her?"
"I don't like her."
"Seriously? You talked to her like what, three seconds? Or was it five?"
"I've seen her. The way she dresses and everything..."
"So what? You can't just judge someone based on the way they dress, Mum."
"She walks around like a punk, or a homeless person or something. I don't like the way she dresses."
"First of all, Aza doesn't look like a punk or a homeless person. And second, you don't like the way I dress either, so does that mean you don't like me? Actually," I snort, "don't answer that."
"Do you really want to be around people like that? Be associated with them?"
"Whether I want to be around a friend of mine? No, mother, of course I don't want to."
"Since when do you even make friends?" She shakes her head. "You know exactly how this is going to end, Phoenix."
"No, I don't. Tell me, Mum."
"Do I really need to tell you that? Do I really need to remind you of all the times you made friends?"
"Yes, Mum." I swallow. "Please, go on."
"Alison," she says. "You and her were best friends in middle school. And then one day, you and her never talked to each other ever again."
"Because she moved away, Mum."
"Well, she never bothered to contact you after she did, or did she?"
"That's because... She moved away."
"All right. Well, what about Rachel?"
"She just... We grew apart."
"And Amy?"
"She was - she..."
"And Claire?"
"She... She just..."
"It never worked out, Phoenix. They all left. They all couldn't stick with you. They didn't want to."
"That's not true," I whisper.
"Yes, it is. They didn't like you. They liked your money, or your toys, or your grades, or your status..."
"That's not true."
"...They didn't like you."
"That's not true."
"Right. If that's what you say."
"It's not true." I swallow. "And even if it was, Aza isn't like that."
"Of course she isn't. I bet she'll stick around forever - like all the others did."
"Stop it," I whisper.
"She has other friends, doesn't she? Friends who she's known for so much longer than she has known you. Friends who are so much more important for her than you are. Friends who are better than you are."
"That's not fair. She - she isn't like that," I say, and I don't know who I'm saying it to, my mother or myself. "Aza is not like that."
"You don't know how to do it, Phoenix. Your brother was always liked by everyone, but you weren't. Xander was the one people like."
"But - but I..." I feel tears developing, my breath starting to lose its usual rhythm.
"Whatever. Suit yourself. But when it doesn't work out, don't say I haven't told you so."
"Stop it. Just... Just..."
"Phoenix, for once in your life, listen to what I tell you. Stay away from that girl. It won't work anyway."
I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she knows I like girls and that I like Aza. I wonder if she's doing this to keep me from getting hurt or if she's doing this to keep me from being happy. I wonder if she actually believes everything she's saying. And I wonder if she's right. Maybe she is. Maybe Aza doesn't like me. Maybe she will never like me. Maybe it won't work anyway. Maybe I shouldn't build something up, because it will fall down anyway. Maybe Aza is better off without me.
I realise my mother has left the room. I get off my bed, get out of Aza's shirt and stuff it into my wardrobe. It's cold without it. So I go back to my bed and wrap myself in my blanket. I try to sleep, which doesn't work. I try to read, which doesn't work. I try not to think, which doesn't work.
Later, I get a message from Aza.
i'm back, baby
I stay wrapped in my blanket and don't answer it. A few minutes later I get another message.
so when are we meeting tonight?
for, you know... ;)
I don't answer that either. Sometime later she sends me another message.
hello? did your mum kill you bc you ruined the dress?
that was stupid, sorry
I actually wish she'd stop sending me messages. But she doesn't.
phoenix? are you okay?
I want to text her no, but I don't text her anything.
shit
the whole thing with tonight was just a joke
it was stupid
i'm a moron
i'm sorry
phoenix?
I don't respond. Finally, late at night, I type in you're not a moron, then i send it. I type in i'm a moron. i can't do this. i'm sorry aza, then I delete it. I turn off my phone and turn off the light. I wish I could turn off my thoughts too.
_____
AZA
I stare at the message. You're not a moron. Nothing else; just this one message. No answers, no explanation, no nothing. Clearly, something is wrong. And clearly, she doesn't want to tell me what it is.