WHEN WE WERE US

"Ethan, where are you? I'm at Lake Ville's Park, and I will wait here until you show up."

These were the last words I said to the name currently being talked about now at this table. This is why I never wanted to be here in the first place and always avoided reunions.

"Are you serious, Ethan White is going to be here tonight?"

That was the fourth person asking Wayne, Ethan's best friend, this question.

While others felt excited about the idea of seeing Ethan again, I felt rage within me as I could still feel the chill of that night on my skin. Never in my life have I regretted anything as much as I regret falling in love with Ethan White.

"Did he tell you this himself?" Shirley, my best friend, asked Wayne, grabbing him by the wrist.

Shirley must have forgotten because she has a really weak memory, but I remember because my memory is good. I remember that Shirley Wayne and Wayne Roger do not have the best of relationships. When Shirley joined the class newly in grade 4, everyone teased Wayne about finding his long-lost sister because of the similarity in their names, even though it wasn't exactly similar. However, what we all expected to be an easy-sailing friendship turned out to be an arch-enemy relationship. The mix-up in the names made them constantly conflict in the most terrible ways.

"Erm...excuse you, we are not friends, and we are not close enough to have any form of skinship ma'am."

Wayne takes Shirley's palm off his wrist like he is picking up some rotten tomatoes. Knowing who Shirley is, she wouldn't let this moment go, at least, for the timeframe she remembers it.

Don't call me evil, but I am kind of happy Wayne treated Shirley like that because why on earth is she excited about my worst nightmare showing up?

"Ethan had called me yesterday, to talk some things over, and I discovered he was back here in Lake Ville. Coincidentally, it happens to be that we are having our reunion the next day, which is today, and I was like, what better way to welcome back our prodigal brother, if not with a reunion dinner, I mean, isn't that what the father did for his prodigal son in the Bible?"

I have never liked Wayne; this should be the longest I've listened to him speak ever since I've known him. Despite being Ethan's best friend, while dating Ethan, I barely conversed with Wayne and avoided him whenever he wanted to start a conversation with me. Listening to him speak now, I think I know why, he talks too much! Oh my goodness, is there no pause within him? What happened to using commas when we speak?

"So basically, you just told Ethan about the reunion, he didn't say he would be here?" Wayne was asked.

With the look in Wayne's eyes, I am sure he was wishing he never sounded so certain when he spoke about Ethan showing up here.

"Well erm..." He stutters.

"So much for being overly confident."

Shirley snaps at Wayne immediately. Seizing the opportunity to say something rude to him.

While the silent beef between Shirley and Wayne went on, I quickly stole a glance at my vestido polo dress from the empty wine glass sitting in front of me to be sure everything was looking good and nice. And no, I'm not trying to look good for anyone.

"Is that not Ethan White?" Shirley's tender excited voice calls my attention to the tall glass of caramel that just stepped in. Those dark brown eyes that perfectly complements that half smile, only one person can pull off this look. That's Ethan, alright, but why is he here?

My heart starts to pound like Usain Bolt's own must have pounded after he won the race. Like that wasn't enough, my dry palms suddenly became sweaty like I just finished washing them.

"Nice to meet you again, Lo."

Lo? it's been ages since anyone called me that. But first, how do I reject this handshake without seeming like I'm holding a grudge? I can't afford to let Ethan's first memory of me after so long be me having sweaty palms.

"Ethan!" Wayne screams and gives Ethan a big hug.

I hate Wayne, but for saving me from shaking Ethan with sweaty palms or ignoring him and seeming like I'm holding a grudge, I think he might not be such a bad person.

"It's so good to have you here with us, man," Wayne says as he directs Ethan to the seat next to him, which happens to be directly opposite me. "It's been forever since I saw you, and boy, are you looking dashingly handsome!" He compliments Ethan.

Dashingly handsome? Well, that isn't a lie. At least the short glance I took at him says the same. I'm curious though, how will Ethan think I look? Better than before or worse?

***

"You want to tell me you didn't notice anything?"

Shirley is in my house, and she's been going on about how Ethan is still in love with me.

"Shirley, remember why you came around today, to search for part-time jobs online. The reunion has happened, and it's over. You convinced me to go there with you, don't try to put ideas into my head, I beg you!"

I hate how she gets into my head. For someone as tough as I am, I still find it difficult to understand how someone as unserious as Shirley gets to convince me almost all the time.

"Lori, I'm serious right now; Ethan only attended the reunion dinner to savour your face. I mean, he had his eyes fixed on you all through his stay. Maybe, just maybe, if you had looked in his direction at least for a second, you would have seen how desperately his eyes called your name."

"I saw them," I say in response to Shirley's statement.

"Girl!" Shirley screamed excitedly. "What did he do when he saw you looking?"

Shirley's eyes beamed with curiosity. She moved closer to me, her hands gripping my shoulders as she shook me vigorously.

"No, girl, not Ethan. Can you stop talking about him around me? For real now, stop doing this."

I reprimanded Shirley, this time, more seriously.

"If not Ethan's love-absorbed eyes, what did you see then?"

"This," I say, pointing at the screen of my laptop to show her a part-time gig I had stumbled upon. "I'm talking about this café, I saw them on our way to the reunion dinner. The building looked nice. Also, the pay and working hours I'm seeing online seem to be pretty impressive too. What do you think, should we apply?"

Although not exactly the conversation she wants us to have, Shirley smoothly shifts her focus because she knows how important it is to her to get a new part-time job.

We quickly signed in to the site and hit the button that said apply right after filling in our details.

"What do you say we..."

Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!

The doorbell cuts Shirley off interrupting her sentence.

"Who could that be?" I asked Shirley.

"I should be asking you; this is your place, after all."

I wasn't expecting anyone, and aside from Shirley, no one comes around my place, and no one knows where I live.

While we contemplate who it could be behind the door, the doorbell rings again.

"Let me get it." Shirley volunteers.

Shirley spent almost a minute by the door, so I moved closer to it, standing just about five steps away, trying to peep in to see who it could be.

"Have a good evening" I hear Shirley say right before the guest walled in.

It was the woman I call mother.

***

"Here you go," I say as I handed a glass of chilled water to her as she had requested.

I was raging within me; I clench my fist tightly, praying I do not explode.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I came?" My mother asks me breaking the silence that has held the forte for over thirteen minutes.

"Why are you here, mother?"

I said the last word with difficulty.

"Can I get 800 dollars from you? I want to get a few things sorted out."

Tell me, how shameless can one be? How heartless can a mother be? Always showing up in front of the daughter you abandoned when she was 4 only when you need things.

"I don't have it, I'm sorry," I said without blinking.

"Don't lie to me. I know you work, and I know you have it. I will be back here next week, have it ready by then."

She stands up and dashes out. Again.

As if it wasn't enough that I had to see Ethan yesterday, of all the days when I didn't watch my hair or wear any perfume. Now I have to deal with my irresponsible mother also? Tell me, how much more pitiful must my story be for life to give me a happy chapter? Who scripted my story? What a shabby script, with a shabby character!

***

I slumped on my bed, and in no time, my pillow was soaked in my tears as I stared blankly at my cracked ceiling.

My phone beeps, and I swiftly pick it up in hopes it is a message from the café, but my heart skipped a beat and did a summersault when I read the message.

"Hey Lo, it's Ethan, Ethan White - just so you don't mistake me for another Ethan. It was nice seeing you today. See you soon."

I read, re-read and re-read the last three words over and over and over again, focusing more on the last word. What could Ethan mean by soon?