The Best Thing He Ever Wrote

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

“You did fantastic, sweetheart.” My mother glows.

“I told you, I did tell you, Alice, this girl here's gonna’ make us rich!” My father replies.

Cindy nods at them, after watching two hours of her prancing around the stage as an angle, I think I've seen enough of her for an entire lifetime. On the contrary she did do well, it was a good performance. But I can't help feeling a little disappointed at myself for not being the one that's going to make my family rich, ever. I silently tell myself to grow up, she did well. She earned it.

Johnny gives Cindy a high-five, “You're going to give me some of the money when you're rich too, aren't you?”

Cindy snorts, “As if.”

The car park is almost empty; the only other cars here are the ones that belong to teachers who are inside probably packing up. My father gives me a quick glance and I quickly look away. He's silently telling me to congratulate Cindy.

“Hey, Cindy?” I say and she turns around. Her make-up is still on and I can see that the white powder to make her face pail has mostly worn off, “What do you think, we should go out and celebrate. Let's eat.”

She considers, “Yeah that sounds good.” She's beaming and I notice for the first time in a long time that this here is Cindy, my sister. And she isn't sick any more.

My mother gives me a look that says that we can't because there isn't enough money on hand to pay for us all to eat out. I disregard her look by saying, “My shout.” Because I don't have anything to save up for any more, “I've been saving up and I think,” I pause, do I really? “It'll be fun.”

Johnny looks at me like we've never fought at all, like we never stopped being friends, “Sounds great. Cause' I'm starving!” He emphasizes the ar sound, making him sound a little English and I wonder if he's actually regarding the English girl he was talking about earlier. I give him a questioning look.

“You got the keys still, kiddo?” My father asks.

“Yeah,” I unlock my door and lean in to unlock the others, “Let's hit the road-” I end the sentence, glad that no one was really listening to want here the end of it.

“Do you reckon your parents would notice if I duck outside for a moment for a smoke? I'll say I'm going to the toilet, I've got mints.” Johnny asks me as he leans a little over the table to me. I think about telling him that a breath mint won’t actually cover up the smell on his clothes and will only do it to his breath. I glance at my parents who are still going on about how well Cindy did.

Cindy finishes the last of her honey-soy-chicken and leans back in her chair. Finished it! My mother cracks her fortune cookie and the Asian woman with the long black hair collects the plates from the table.

The Chinese restaurant is quiet and the sounds of cookers have turned off, I guess that once we leave they’re going to shut shop completely. A middle aged man counts the money in the till and I think instantly of the corner store.

“You want one too?” Johnny continues.

Yes! My mind tells me, I think I need one. I think that I need to make a few things get off my mind. But my mother looks at me and then back at Cindy and I notice that things are getting so much better, that I don't need a cigarette because I managed fine without them in the first place.

“Anything else, I can get you to drink?” The long haired Asian woman asks. When she'd said anything it sounded more like anytink and her mouth formed this funny shape like she was trying really hard to get the word out right.

“No,” I say to Johnny as my mother orders one last glass of wine, “No, to both.”

He narrows his eyes a little at me, “They're my lungs.” But he doesn't say it like he's mad.

I exchange looks with him and his face freezes for a moment, “What are you thinking?” He sounds like he's accusing me. Johnny's always had an act when he knows something is on my mind, usual negative things and I guess that it must just be some weird expression that I pull, but he always knows, “I've already lost one friend.” And that was enough said.

“I know.” He says and then joins in the conversation my parents are having about how Cindy did such a good job in act three, whatever that is.

I think I just made Johnny contemplate quitting smoking.

Good.

I think of something for my notebook, 17. Memories are the only thing that keeps me from hating you. I want to add, but I won't be able to forgive you. I guess if I do though, it just won’t sound right. Olivia. I wish she'd just get out of my head.

“Yes, Brandon, what are the big plans?” I blink twice at my mother and then look at all four faces that are watching me.

My mouth flops open, “Sorry, what?” I say surprised.

“You're big eighteenth? You know, your birthday's in a few weeks?” My father says.

“Oh,” I pause, “I'm not sure.” In fact I didn't even remember it.

I feel myself smile, eighteen, and it's going to be a good day. Johnny is talking to me and so is my family. There's nothing missing.

Nothing?

I look down at my fortune cookie, noticing that everyone else has already broken theirs. I place the banana shaped biscuit between my fingers and give it one good crack. I pull out the little white piece of paper.

“What's it say?” Cindy asks.

“Now these three remain, hope, faith and love. The greatest of these is love.”