Orange Juice

2

     I had a pretty decent circle. Amaya was a campus journalist and an avid fiction reader; Minako was a fashion enthusiast who was also good at math; and Naomi was a zoophilist who would make vlogs of their farm animals in the weekends. I had great people as friends, although it bothered me that they were the only people making my life interesting. Girls my age were into boy groups and had all the craze for celebrities. Some even had boyfriends, and had regular dates with them. I, on the other hand, had none of those. I didn't struggle fitting in, but other than being good at chemistry and physics, I wasn't really anything special.

     "But Chiyo, you'd look cute in this haircut!" Minako praised, sitting on her bed while showing me the picture on this magazine she brought on our way to their house. Her bedroom smelled like her neatly-pressed uniform, and from that scent alone I could tell that her family was well off.

     I shrugged and bobbed my head sideward, sitting comfortably on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, Mina. You have to convince my mom on that one."

     Amaya had a boyfriend to go out with in the afternoon, and Naomi lived far enough from school that she would risk going home late after class should she come with us. Mina and I were the only ones who'd usually hang out, but I felt like I still couldn't have her understand how upset my mom would me if she'd see me sporting a shorter hair length.

     "Fuwi, fuwi ~" she uttered with her lips pursed. "Well... it's not like my mom liked my hair anyways. But you've got long beautiful hair, Chiyo! I envy you, y'know?"

     "Huh? You, envy me?" I chuckled. "Your hair's prettier than mine, Mina! Brunette suits you so much."

     "Really?" She blushed, stroking her gorgeous wavy locks. "I still wish I didn't have to make myself pretty, just to be pretty. Y'know what I'm saying?"

     I shrugged. "Talk about pretty, you're the specialist in that."

     I had to go home before dinner, so I left Mina's house a bit past-five. We rarely used the car so my legs were long shaped up for long distances. But our house wasn't that far from Mina's. Had there been a little more people out at night, the streets would be much safer past-dusk.

     Mom was a great cook, though many times it's hard to taste the love in her dishes. Maybe it's because my dad wouldn't utter a thing about the food when we'd already be eating. Maybe it's because all we'd ever do was watch television, and all he'd ever talk about was how plumper celebrities looked over time.

     That night, Dad still wasn't around yet past-six. He was often late anyway. Mom rarely made a fuss about it, so we just started eating without him.

     A few minutes later, she got a text message. She got up from the table and went to the kitchen with the phone on her ear. That was odd. She wouldn't get up too quickly for just any phone call.

     "Huh? What do you mean, Jun?

     "What do you mean you just killed somebody?!"

     My heart throbbed.

     "You better not come home tonight! I don't want to see your face here, all right? I'm gonna call the cops on you! I swear to God!"

     Mom rushed back to the dining table, panting, shooting me a dead stare into the eye. "Finish up, Chiyo. You are not going out of your room tonight. Do you understand me, Chiyo?"

     My head nodded on its own. My hands were slightly pulsating while holding the silverware, but that's all there was to them. Did I understand that? Me, not going out of my room later that night? Yes, I did. I understood that I wouldn't like what I would see as much, twice as much as what I would probably hear out loud.

     Before I knew it, it was already nine in the evening.

     And then it was ten.

     And then it was eleven.

     I didn't know why I should be counting hours at that point. What was I trying to do? Staying up till morning, just to deprive myself of the element of surprise?

     Suddenly, I heard a loud bang from downstairs. I supposed it was coming from the front door. Something was slamming into it in the middle of the night, and I was sure it wasn't sane.

     I heard my mom cursing as her footsteps raced downstairs. I curled up under the blanket, coiling myself as tight as I could around my pillow, wishing I wouldn't hear anything.

     But I heard more crashing downstairs.

     I heard the door being unbolted and unlatched.

     I heard more crashing.

     There was more crashing.

     "Piece of shit, Jun! Piece of shit!"

     More crashing.

     "Fuck you!"

      God, stop.

     God...

     God...

     I heard the door being slammed open.

     Silence.

     There was silence.

     I popped my head out of the blanket. The full moon striking through my window was uncanny, as if it was calling for wolves.

     God.

     Wherever God was, I knew He wasn't downstairs.

     I heard murmuring. God wouldn't murmur too loudly, would He?

     "Oh, shit on me already, Jun—"

      "FUCKING—listen to me first, woman, listen to me! You... you—"

      "NO! Fucking murder—"

     "I didn't kill him—"

     "YOU JUST SAID YOU DID—"

     "NO! LISTEN TO M—listen to me first, Cho! You don't fucking listen to me!"

     "Bullshit, Jun! That's what I don't want to hear from y—"

      "Shh, shh, shh!"

     "Bullshit!"

     The noise grew less aggressive within a matter of seconds. Tears streamed down my face as I buried my head back under the blanket. Before I knew it, the muffled sound of my parents' whimpering already lulled me to sleep.

     I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Strikes of sunlight warmed my stiff cheeks and crusty eyes. Hesitant to check it, I fumbled for my phone anyway, and was completely stirred by these unread messages from Mina.

     I rang her phone.

     "Chiyo..."

     "Mina?" I heard her sniff. Is she crying? "What happened? Are you okay?"

     "Chiyo," she croaked, unable to hold back the tears anymore. "I don't think I can go to school today. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

     "I-I don't understand. Why are you crying, Mina? What happened?"

     There was a long pause.

     "Chiyo, my dad died."