George
"Since when did you like K-dramas?" Aunt Liz asks and sits on the couch.
Since the day Emy became obsessed with these Korean guys.
It's Aunt Liz's day off, and we are watching the drama.
I read the subtitles too quickly to shift my gaze to watch the scene.
"Georgina, you don't have any plans?" Aunt Liz asks.
"Plans? For?" I frown. I am so focused on the subtitles that I didn't give her a glance.
"For your birthday."
"May I?" My eyebrows rise.
"Of course. What kind of question is that?"
I laugh in disbelief.
What? You already forgot?
Two years ago, Aunt Liz said she won't let me throw a party ever again.
She said...
"You are irresponsible, Georgina!"
Dude, I was just sixteen at that time. I didn't even drink any. It was my classmate who threw up on the carpet that night. That is also the reason why I don't like carpets, alcoholic drinks, and parties.
"Really?"
"Yes," she nods. "You still have more than a week to think and prepare. I remember you said that you don't want a grand party."
Ahh...Yes.
Two years ago, she wanted a princess-themed or a masquerade party for my eighteenth birthday.
I remember myself yelling, "No! There's no way I'll celebrate that way!"
If I knew my classmate will throw up on the carpet, I could've chosen the masquerade instead.
To be honest, though, I don't like that stuff. Fairytales aren't real. There's no magic and shine in real life. I just like watching those things, but life's not like that.
Plus, I'll just sit there with the spotlight focused on me. I want a real celebration, where I can talk to my guests. I don't like being a wallflower or just a display of my party.
"Josephine, Kyle, Calix... Brooklyn, Luke... Uhh."
I am now listing my close classmates' and friends' names.
Drew.
"Should I?" I ask myself.
I write his name, "D-rew."
Now, I'm done.
My phone rings.
"Hey, George," Shane.
"What?"
"Don't tell me you are inviting your ex-boyfriend?" Shane asks. I could already imagine her eyebrow raising as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I'm thinking about it—"
"No!" She yells.
"Fine, fine," I reply.
"Can I invite some of our previous clubmates?"
"Okay. How many are they?"
"Just a few."
"How many–"
"Shane!" she gets scolded by her boss again. "Get back to work!"
"Bye, George," she says. A beep sound follows shortly.
"A party. I thought she doesn't care anymore. That's why I didn't plan," I mumble while sending invitations to my guests.
"Red? Are you there?" I knock on Red's front door.
The door opens.
"Hmmm?" His casual gray v-neck shirt and black sweatpants hug his athletic body.
"Ohhh... Hey," I say awkwardly. "Are you free Friday next week?"
"I have a job interview that day."
I pout.
"The party will start at 7:00 pm," I reply.
"What for?" his brows knit together.
"My birthday," I reply and look away.
"I don't know if I'll come," he answers in a serious voice.
I slowly nod, "Okay." Then, I turn my back and walk away.
"If I were Stacey, he'll surely come," I mumble.
I get in the house and go to the kitchen. I pour some juice into the glass and get a bowl of mac n' cheese in the fridge. I dig a spoonful of it and shove it into my mouth. I grab a bag of chips and am about to open it when I pause.
"Wait, hold on, George." I hit the counter with both of my hands. "So what if he won't come, huh? Huh? Huh?" I drink the orange juice bottoms up. "Of course he'll come if Stacey invites him, duh!" I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand.
After eating, I decided to take a walk. I get into the bathroom and take a quick shower.
"It's just him. Shane is coming anyway," I say while zipping my distressed skinny jeans.
He has his Stacey, George.
"Aaaarrgghh!" I yell in front of my reflection.
I tuck my white shirt in. I do nothing with my hair and wear my black Converse. I plug in my earphone and leave my apartment.
"Hmmmmm... Where should I go?"
I sit on the swing. This is the park where Emy and I used to play when we were kids.
Emy, I miss you.
The buried memories of the two of us flash as soon as I sit on the swing. I look at the swing beside me where I first met her.
"Why are you crying?" little girl Emy asked. She was staring at me with those big brown eyes.
"I asked my Aunt why I don't call her Mom," I sniffed.
"What are you saying? Of course, she's your Aunt. I don't call my Aunt 'Mom'. My Mom and Aunt are two different people," she said while moving the swing backward and forward.
"But I don't know what my Mom looks like," I said.
"Why? she asked.
I shook my head, "I don't know."
The crown on her head fell. She's wearing a pink dress. She even has a wand.
"Are you a princess?" I asked her.
She giggled. "Yes, my Mom told me I'm her princess."
I cried harder after hearing what she said.
"Hey, hey, stop crying. Here, you can take my crown," she stood up and picked up her crown. She handed it to me.
I wiped my tears and my nose with the back of my hands. "But, you're mom gave that to you. W-what if she gets mad at me?" I asked.
"Well...Wait a second! She can be your Mom! Right? She's older than us. We can be sisters!" she said while clapping her hand.
She suddenly ran away. I thought she left me, but she came back while dragging a lady with her.
"Mom! Mom! Mom! I told you I found my sister! There, there! Look, it's her!"
"Baby, you don't have a sister. Slow down a bit."
Both of them stood in front of me.
"Tada!" she happily said while panting. "She's my sister. She's-uh. What's your name again?"
"G-Georgina."
"Mom, she's Chorgina, my sister. Oh, I'm Emy. I'm your sister."
"That's now how it works, honey," her Mom hesitantly said.
"But I want her to be my sister! I don't have a sister. She said she only has an Aunt. She didn't have a Mommy."
Her Mom looked at me and smiled. "Are you alone?"
I nodded and wiped my tears.
"Can you be my Mom?"
She laughed a little. "Well, firstly, let's take you to your house. It's dangerous here alone. Okay?"
I slowly nodded.
I smile, remembering how dumb and innocent we were.
I look at the slide. The bright green color of it before is now fading. A chuckle escapes my lips after recalling a memory again.
"M-Mommy!"
I helped Emy stand up. She fell into the puddle below the slide. Her uniform was dirty. I was laughing at her, which made her cry even more.
"Mommy Woods is not here yet," I told her while laughing out loud.
"It's not funny, Georgina!"
The daycare center is near here. We always wait here for Aunt Liz and Mommy Woods to pick us up.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
"You're not a princess anymore," I said while wiping her face with my handkerchief.
"I'm just dirty, but I'm still a princess," she said with a pout on her lips.
"Mommy Woods will be mad at you," I said, trying to scare her.
This place is where I spent most of my childhood with her, with Emy. I stand up and walk around the playground. Five kids arrive. Three of them sit on the swing. Two of them run towards the seesaw. The little boy finds it hard to get on the see-saw. I walk toward them and help the little boy.
"Thank you!" the boy says. "Let's go, Amy," he happily says to his playmate.
I smile as I remember Emy when I look at his playmate.
"What? You have a crush on Calix!?" I exclaimed.
"Shhh!" She hissed. "Keep quiet!" She gritted her teeth.
I laughed louder, lifting her higher off the ground.
She screamed and begged me to put her down. She tapped the handle of the seesaw as if that could help her.
"You have a crush on him?"
"Yes, yes! Put me down!"
A tear rolls down my cheek. I quickly wipe my tears and form a weak smile on my lips.
"Emy, I hope you're in peace now."
After crying in the park, I went to the taco place near our school. Emy and I often go there after our classes. A weak smile formed across my lips as I recalled our memories here during our junior days. I always complained about how messy she eats.
"Hey."
My thoughts are interrupted by a male voice.
I look up. "Uhh... Yes?" I ask the redhead guy in front of me. I wipe my mouth with a tissue.
"May I share the table with you?" He looks around, "I tried looking for an available table, but there's none."
"Oh, sure," I smile at him and move my things near me to give him more space.
He sits down and stares at me.
"What is it?" I ask and wipe my cheek in case there a dirt on my face.
He tilts his head, "Did... You cry, Miss?"
My mouth gaped.
How old are you? You look like a six-year-old kid in the body of a teenager.
I wipe my eyes. "Am I that obvious?" I laugh and sniff.
He bites his lower lip and nods.
He reaches his hand out, "I'm Clarkson."
I was just staring at his right hand.
"And... You are?"
"O-oh, I'm George." I shake hands with him.
He flashes a bright smile and nods, "George."
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