I responded briefly and ate the fried rice with shrimp. Then I belatedly asked Liam what he wanted to say.
“You might not remember, but we actually didn’t have our first conversation at Leda’s house.”
“I know.”
“What, you knew?”
The first time I had a conversation with Liam was around last August when we had just become 11th graders. Back then, he was buying a chocolate bar from a vending machine set up near the cafeteria, but because the chocolate bar got stuck in the old vending machine’s spring, nothing came out. He didn’t know what to do in front of the vending machine, then noticed me waiting behind him and quietly moved aside.
After putting money in the vending machine, on a whim, I purchased the chocolate bar Liam had tried to buy instead of what I originally intended to buy. And sure enough, two chocolate bars fell into the product chute.
‘Excuse me.’
I caught Liam, who was about to leave looking dejected, briefly explained the situation, and gave him both chocolate bars. I didn’t even want to eat that chocolate bar anyway.
Since Liam was a school celebrity, and since that incident wasn’t a big deal, I never imagined he’d remember it until now.
“…Since that day, I’ve wanted to become friends. But the opportunity didn’t come easily.”
Liam said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“I thought you talked to anyone easily.”
“Not really. I care tremendously about how I appear to others, you know.”
So only four friends know that he has no house or car, Liam said with a laugh.
“Leda, Nathan, Charlotte, and you—four people.”
“The first three you mentioned are close with you so that would’ve been fine, but wasn’t it a big risk to tell me?”
“If you don’t embrace risk, you don’t gain anything either.”
Liam said that, then said he had more to say. I told him to say whatever, and he hesitated for a long time while looking at the half-eaten food.
“That day. The day I first talked with you in front of the vending machine. That chocolate bar was my lunch. I sold my meal ticket because I didn’t have enough allowance. You know. Even if the scholarship solves playing sports and studying, everything else is difficult.”
“Right.”
“And I’m gay.”
Only Leda knows this. Liam added that, then smiled at me with an impassive face. I nodded silently toward him. We’re not that close, so why does he keep confiding in me whenever he sees me? I wondered briefly, then asked him.
“Looking at how well you use chopsticks, you eat Chinese food often?”
“I told you. I know that restaurant’s menu inside and out.”
“…My mom and dad are from Kingston, Jamaica.”
I just felt like I should say something. Since the other person kept telling me about himself, it seemed fair to tell him something too.
“So that’s why I often saw Jamaican food in your lunch box. Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I answered that way and ate the long-cold fried rice. Then Liam burst into loud laughter as if he’d heard an incredibly funny joke.
“Ahahaha!”
“Why?”
“Should I teach you the Rangers-style high-five?”
“No matter how much I watch that, I can’t figure it out.”
Remembering the hand gestures Nathan and Liam had exchanged earlier, I shook my head. Liam insisted on teaching me the high-five that only Rangers exchange, and until I went home, I bumped hands with him many times, exchanging an incomprehensible sign of friendship.
Liam Blake Someone come tell me I’m not dreaming right now. Please.
When I got home and checked my smartphone, Liam had posted a new post on social media.
Leda Why are you excited?
***
Liam Something good happened
***
Leda I was bored all day, feeling betrayed.
***
Liam I told you to come watch the game
***
Leda Even if I’d gone, it doesn’t seem like it would’ve been particularly fun.
***
Both from the content I could infer from the comments exchanged with Leda, and it seems the joy from winning today’s game still hasn’t worn off. I marked the post with a smiley emoji and went to bed. I only left one emoji on the post, but somehow I felt closer to Liam.
Episode 1+
“Liam!”
“…Ted?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Open the door!”
Late at night. Ted came while I was reading because I couldn’t sleep. Today, like other times, he came totally wasted, but I should think positively since he at least retained enough sense to ask me to open the door.
Ted is my stepfather. When he first remarried my mother, he was a sincere and decent person, but now that she’s gone from this world, he’s just a peckerwood who makes a living as a day laborer and spends each day gambling and drinking.
After opening the trailer door, I supported Ted, who was sprawled on the stairs, and brought him inside. Reeking of alcohol, he laughed heartily, then patted my shoulder.
“You’re the only pride in my miserable life.”
“…Thank you.”
“You’ll surely become a great person.”
Ted isn’t a good guardian, but he’s not a bad person either. He’s genuinely proud of me and believes I’ll do well.
…But that’s all.
“Hard to control my body… Won’t you support me a bit?”
I nodded and laid Ted on the bed at the end of the trailer. He immediately fell asleep, snoring loudly enough to burst eardrums. Watching the small, shabby man sprawled in the middle of the bed sleeping, I couldn’t help but laugh emptily. Looks like I won’t be sleeping in the bed again today.
I took my book and went to the dining table. On the table was a fallen vase containing flowers that had withered long ago—Ted often picks flowers. Did Cheick see this mess too? That would be troubling. I pretended to like flowers in front of him, but in reality, whether it’s tulips or forget-me-nots, I’m just annoyed that Ted keeps picking them and making the already messy trailer even messier.
From the moment I realized there would be no hope unless I did really well, I struggled desperately to appear like a perfect person to everyone. Pretending to be talented like Leda, pretending to be bright like Nathan, pretending to be exceptionally smart like Charlotte… Living while pretending all sorts of things, sometimes moments come when I crumble even over trivial matters.
When the chocolate bar I’d bought with all the money I had got stuck on the vending machine spring and wouldn’t fall, I felt like someone had finally pushed me off the cliff’s edge where I’d been standing. I was already struggling enough without this—why couldn’t I even eat a single chocolate bar?
Just as I was about to leave, feeling pathetic for nearly crying over a 2-dollar chocolate bar, someone called out to me and held out two chocolate bars with a gesture that showed no particular emotion.
‘I tried getting one just in case, and it came out.’
Looking back on it, that felt like a reward for me, who’d been running alone all this time. Someone who perfectly embodied my ideal type—which I’d once told Leda about, half-joking, half-serious—called out to me at that moment and said those words.
My ideal type is—since they’re literally my ideal type—someone good-looking and smart, with a great body and personality, and above all, someone who doesn’t just settle for the present but knows how to consider the future. Someone who has qualities I can learn from, who’s passionate about something, preferably something solid, who’s understanding, and better yet, someone I can communicate well with.
If I shortened this boringly long description into two words, it would be:
Cheick Rowan.
I can’t sleep because of the afterimage that guy left behind. I’m not expecting anything to happen between him and me. I’d be satisfied if we could just be ordinary friends, but if Cheick appearing was truly heaven’s reward for me, there’s no reason to refuse such an amazing gift.
“Hello, ex-boyfriend.”
Monday morning. Leda, who showed up to pick me up as usual, greeted me with a very memorable line.
“Yeah, hello. Ex-girlfriend. Did you have a good weekend?”
“…Why do all the cute girls I like end up liking you?”
Leda asked, her previously bright expression hardening in an instant.
“Isn’t it obvious that cute girls would like me?”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Leda pretended to be disgusted looking at me, then drove toward school. Then she asked about Ted’s well-being.
“I pick you up every day, but it feels like I haven’t seen your uncle in ages. Nothing’s wrong, is there?”
“He’s just too hungover to get up, that’s all.”
Ted’s always quick to hide when Leda shows up. He seems to think that to maintain my friendship with this rich girl, a shabby family member like himself shouldn’t be visible. I guess he’s trying to be considerate of me in his own way, but why does that feel frustrating too?
“Anyway, who’s this girl you’ve fallen for this time?”
When I asked, intending to change the subject, Leda requested I correct it from ‘fallen for’ to just ‘interested in.’
“So who is it?”
“Sophia Hernandez. The one who hangs out with your beloved high jump athlete.”
“Hmm, if you’re interested in her, won’t Olivia try to bully her even more?”
“That’s what I’m saying. She’s not even a five-year-old—I don’t know why she acts like that.”
Leda said that Olivia was just as much of an obstacle to her happy lesbian life as I was.
When we arrived at school and I got out of Leda’s car, the team guys playing rowdily in the plaza saw me and loudly called for me to come over. They were still drunk on the joy of winning the game.
Even a won game is just a past game once it’s over. What matters is the games ahead. I have to keep winning and building a record, or I’ll never escape from at least the trailer park slums.
“Why’d you skip the after-party last night?”
Aiden, who’d been making the most noise, looked at me and asked. Displeasure was written all over his face—he always looked down on me, but today he was particularly bad.
“I’ll answer that for him. He was busy learning how to make the first move on the high jump champion.”
When Nathan grabbed Aiden’s shoulder and joked, everyone except Aiden burst out laughing. Hot-tempered Aiden threatened Nathan that if he kept messing around, he wouldn’t let it slide.
“Whoa, calm down. Olivia’s the one who kicked you to the curb, not me. And I’ll admit Olivia’s pretty. But she’s not the only girl in the world, is she?”
“…You bastard!”
“Speak of the devil—isn’t that Olivia over there?”
