Blue Flower

Chapter 12

-Chester-

“Chester, you better get up and drink your milk.” Hayley’s voice filled up my m whole room from the kitchen. I scratched my head and lazily rose form my seat. I was writing the climax of my latest novel. Ideas were neatly scattered everywhere in my mind, yet that one single call disrupted all the passion in my hands.

“I’m coming.” I said and yawned. From the stairs, I could see her focusing on the artwork she was doing. Bullets of sweat were slowly running down her determined face, eager to finish what she had started. I carefully grabbed my glass of milk from the table, and took two blueberry muffins as well.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

“She’s in the bakeshop. She needs you there tonight. Better not come home late if you’re planning a short vacation.”

I chuckled and smiled to myself. It was exactly a week after the vacation Naomi had asked me out. That did a lot of benefits to me, though I’ve only had a few memories of it. The great view, the palatable food, and the backyard kiss between Andrew and Reese. Damn. It tore my heart out, with me waking up in realization. Apart from all of this, I still felt a bit odd and sad. This vacation reminded me of my father.

I was five years old then, when our whole family rented a house near the coastline of Lenoir, North Carolina. My father was a native of the place, so he knows how to move around there. It was a fun week for all of us. Dad jugged his work as a landscape architect and his family. At times, I saw him, drafting out something on his huge tracing paper pinned against the wide drawing table by the bedroom window, feeling the scent of ocean air.

“What’s that, dad?” I asked when I leaned in and saw the plan of a building which looked like a castle to me.

“This is the plan of a national building in South Korea, Chester. This is a large building, and I’ll be going there next week.” He said.

“Wow.” I blurted out, amazed. “Can I go with you?”

With that, he smiled and patted my head.

“No, Chester. You have to stay here and study.” He said.

I was sad to hear that.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son.”

He ruffled my hair affectionately and kissed my forehead. A week after that, he flew to Seoul, South Korea to do his work. He worked there for the Imperial family, and fell in love with the crown princess. Mom was just calm, and finally accepted that their marriage was over. Hayley never accepted that fact, for she was daddy’s girl. Other than that, Mom even told me they had a major confrontation with my dad the day before our vacation. In my part, it hurt me so much. I loved him, but then he just left us with a blur. Those were the last words I ever heard from him.

I love you, son.

The words cut me shred by shred. As I sipped my milk, the frozen memories conjured up in my mind. My tears came out one by one, then flowed non-stop.

“You’re thinking of that shit?” Hayley said, cutting my sentimental moment. I hated that attitude of her when she calls dad a “shit”. I still respect my dad even though he left us hanging. I didn’t know why she acts that way, but still accepted it. It’s what she is.

“No,” I denied, wiping the tears I shed for my dad.

“Liar. Can you just forget about him?”

“I’m sorry.” I said.

She just kept quiet and stared at her piece. I was done with my milk, so I put the glass on the counter and stood beside her. There I saw the best artwork of my sister so far. She clearly and vividly drew an image of a young girl holding a worn-out rag doll while she watched her father, turning his back on her. Though I didn’t see the girl’s face because her back was turned from my sight. I could feel the pent up emotion lying underneath her heart. I almost broke out into another round of silent tears. Hayley was the young girl and my dad was the leaving man.

“You asked me if I was thinking about Dad, then you just made a striking piece for him. You’re a liar.” I said.

She just smiled and took it out of my sight. I swore, from the corner of my eyes, that she shed a single tear for him.

Everything fell silent as she went to her room and slammed the door shut. My cellphone suddenly beeped. I took it out of my pocket and read the message. My hand went numb, and felt the kick of adrenaline in my body.

I stepped on the pedal and kicked it round and round to the school. Andrew texted me that he was in danger. He got his left ankle sprained. I could not afford to waste a single second, for my friend was hurt.

Silence met me as I made my way inside the school. It was a hot, yet bone-chilling afternoon. He said he was in the music room. I halted my bike into a screeching stop, then ran two floors from the ground. The stairs were almost winding, and it made me feel dizzy every minute. I hurriedly made my entrance to the music room.

I banged the door open, and saw Andrew sitting in front of the grand piano. When he looked up, he just smiled, and was even trying to suppress a laughter.

“Hey Chester.” He greeted with a wave of his hand.

I shot a deadly glare on him. He stirred up panic and worry with that text message. I balled my hand into a tight fist. He really was one big jerk.

He raised his hands, trying to calm me down. It was good he realized his mistake.

“Relax, I know you won’t come here if I tell you why. So I pretended to be injured.”

I was at the peak of my anger, but with his comforting words and gestures, I found myself taming naturally.

“What?” I asked in a firm voice.

“Can you make a song for me?”

His request put me into shock. How could he ask me something like that? I wasn’t a song-writer. And of all people, why me?”

“I can’t write a song, but I can help choose one for you.” I said.

“No. I want it to be an original one.” He insisted.

“To whom are you dedicating this song?” I asked.

He smiled. “It’s for Reese.”

My tight fist fell loose when I hear her name I didn’t know why I as feeling this way. Reese was far from my mind. I fought hard to keep steady, so Andrew wouldn’t see me hurt, or whichever emotion that was present.

“Really?” I replied, my voice turning a little bit shaky.

“Yeah. So I want it to be original.”

I rolled my eyes to conceal the hurt I was feeling. I began to take the steps closer to the piano and sat beside him.

I placed my shaking fingers on the piano keys.

“Whoa. You have it in your mind already?” he asked.

“Shut up. I’m thinking.” I snapped.

I played the song that was running in my brain, the rhythm was filling up the whole room. Andrew kept silent and lent an ear to my song. I haven’t written the song yet, but I knew it would be beautiful.

As I ended the song, the mysterious connection between Andrew and I surfaced in my heart.