The Idea Of Us (English Version)

5

I remember her.

It was a humid summer. Tito George and my dad were on the balcony, sipping tea while strategizing their next business move. Luna and I were at my dollhouse, the scene of us laughing while my mom prepared us a bowl of cereal with fruits on top, is very nostalgic. A feeling of longing to experience it again.

My favorite was cherry.

Luna's was grape.

We walked down the streets of the subdivision we owned. A homeless child was at the guard house, and we went to him. I gave him a bag of bread and yogurt.

"Where are your parents?" I asked. He didn't speak, but he was eating the bread I gave him.

The guard let him in since he knew me.

"Maybe he doesn't speak, Maya," Luna was worried.

"It's fine," I smiled and he became uncomfortable when we invited him to the playground—because of the children mocking him. So he ran away.

We went home. Luna and her dad faded into my vision as their car left the gate... for good. She was waving, smiling, and so was I.

And that was the last time I saw her.

—

"I remember now—your dad and my dad used to be business partners, right?"

I couldn't help but smile. All this time, it turns out I've been classmates with the child of my dad's former business partner.

I still held onto the old polaroid. It looked like it was taken back when they had just started their collaboration. I can still remember when Luna and I played together at their cafe, how the photographer called us over to take a picture. But as I grew older, those memories faded, especially since I stopped going with my dad when he had meetings with Uncle Richard—and Luna stopped going as well.

"Yeah, but I guess not anymore after Uncle George passed away. By the way, Maya, my condolences." I could hear the sadness in her voice, so I just nodded and smiled slightly.

"It's alright."

"But it's good that you guys were able to keep your dad's business going!"

My expression dropped as soon as she said that. I handed the polaroid back to her and stared into the distance.

"That's what you think. That's what they all think. What my friends think. What everyone thinks."

"Do you mind telling me what happened?" she asked, though I could tell she was hesitant to bring it up. There was respect in her voice, and I didn't feel any discomfort.

"I don't mind," I sighed, my gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. "The truth is, the business is gone. Things went downhill after my dad passed, and... let's just say, we lost everything."

A flash of understanding crossed her face. "I'm sorry, Maya. It must be tough going through that, especially keeping it from everyone."

I shrugged, forcing a half-smile. "Yeah. They all think I'm still this rich kid. I guess it's easier to pretend than deal with questions."

"I can help you, Maya,"

—

Luna ended up finding out where we lived—everything, actually. How we tried, especially my mom, to revive our business and how I pretended we were still well-off. At first, she was shocked, but after a few moments, she handed me her cafe's address. I asked her what she would do if her dad found out.