Finding Abby

Chapter 1: Just a Cup of Chendol

“Come on, Abby! The show is starting in five and oh-my-gawd you will not believe who’s attending.”

“Who?” I’m biting back a smile. Nathlene can’t stop doing so, she’s practically giddy with happiness.

“Daniel-freaking-KELLER!”

Oh, Danny. He’s an okay friend, he just cleans up well for movies; I can’t deny the fact that he is rather hot. But he’s mine, all mine. I have little to worry about.

I turn to Ryan, who’s sitting cross-legged on the couch beside me. “Will you drive us there, please?” I coo. He grins.

“’Course, Abs.”

I giggle, touching his arm gently in thanks. His cheeks grow red and he looks away. I relish the thought that even though he doesn’t know it yet, I have him wrapped around my pinky too.

“I’m going, mom!” I holler. My ditzy mother pokes her head out of the kitchen.

“You said you’d help me in the garden,” she scolds. She’s holding a cucumber in her hand, which makes me laugh. I shake my head at her. "

“I’ll help you tomorrow, I promise.” With a tiny wave over my shoulder, I walk out of the front door. Nath and Ryan follow close behind.

“Be careful!” my mother shouts. I watch my friends exchange sympathetic glances, misinterpreting her words.

I ignore them. “I will!”

--

While Kuching in Sarawak might be considered Malaysia’s romantic side incarnated, Kuala Lumpur remains the socialist capital of the country. With a population verging on two million, a no-holds-barred system of transportation including MRTs and LRTs, and not to mention the endless amount of malls and the beauty of the city itself, it’s hard to believe that someone like me actually lives here. And what am I that no one else is?

Alone.

Fun, right? I thought so too.

“Get a step on it, Abby!” my mother calls from inside, peeking out of the kitchen window and raising an eyebrow at me in impatience. I bite back a groan – it won’t help in the slightest if I show any signs of detest.

“Trying, mom,” I say with forced patience. I wait, looking up at her as she stares down at me. I wait, looking for a crack on her steel face. Maybe love will seep through this time.

She turns around and walks away, and I slump against the spade I’m holding. There’s always a next time.

I get back to my day job: weeding.

It’s a cold evening in March and Malaysia being Malaysia, the sun is no where to be seen. Heaven knows when we’ll ever get a summer like the westerners. The street outside my house is barren – first term holidays are coming to an end and no one seems to want to return home just yet.

I begin to wonder briefly where Nath would be now – Lankawi? Singapore? – but push those thoughts out of my head instantly. It took me some time, but I’ve learnt that yearning for something won’t enable you to get it. Not that I yearn for Nath. Or Sam. Or Steph or Ryan or even Kel. They’re all in the past, aren’t they?

Let bygones be bygones.

By the time I’m done with the weeding, it’s hitting six in the evening and the temperature has dropped considerably, which is saying a lot with the regular humidity of KL. I walk into the small one-storied house I share with my parents and brother, wincing as the cool air of the air-conditioner hits my skin.