When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part Four : Chapter One

It was the start of a lazy summer, lying down in front of the table fan all day in a fading tank top and shorts. I began watching all kinds of tolerable summer movies for reviews on my blog, living my life vicariously through the character's trips and adventures. However, it gave me no pleasure when people in real life started to lead this example and posted about their road-trips full of over-crowded beaches and scrumptious food and nightly bonfires.

I tossed on the floor when my neck hurt from straining to read and catching a flying mosquito in the middle of my diary, I shut it, the red blood blotting the blank paper-like rich ink. There was a familiar knock on the window of my bedroom and quickly placing the dry popsicle stick as my bookmark, I got up and dislodged the rusting latch of my window. Sam's fresh face glowed under the sweltering sunlight and instantly, he picked the pen from my mouth that I had been subconsciously chewing. "You look like shit."

"Thank you," I said sarcastically, snatching the pen through the grills and grimacing at my assault on it. "I had nothing better to do."

"Let's hang out- go to the mall or somewhere chill."

I turned and glanced at my diary in uncertainty, all the pages looking dull and gave no exciting reason to write. "Alright. I'll come in ten, I need a shower." Closing the windows again and feeling the new heat that had turned my room into an oven, I ran with a towel and a new pair of clothes to the tiny bathroom. When I stepped out fully dressed, abuela had just woken from her nap. "Woke up early today? Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Oh, no, no, dear." She squeezed my arm with a smile, her eyes droopy from sleep. She had shifted in my house for the summer in absence of my father who had a temporary position at a firm in another town. Besides, her house was in renovation for welcoming her great-grandson, one-year-old Juan and his young mother, my cousin, Marta from Mexico. She was thrilled about receiving them and couldn't stop gushing at the pictures of the little baby.

"I'm going out with Sam." I brushed past her, noticing her discreet smile at the mention of Sam. She believed that Sam, Sam, was my boyfriend because of how much we hung out together, although her own shyness prevented her from stating that explicitly.  Deflecting her ridiculous thoughts from him, I asked, "Do you want me to bring any groceries?"

She waddled towards the refrigerator and opened it, stooping and peering inside. "No, no we have everything . . . You go have fun . . . "

I kissed her on her flabby cheek, smiling at her before leaving.

"Sam?" I was surprised to find him seated in the corridor with his hands wrapped around his knees, the sun throwing its beam of light on the tips his black slides. "You could have waited down where there's shade." He got up, dusting his pastel blue shorts and adjusting his white linen shirt, his eyes concealed behind his sunglasses. "Are you going for a date after this?"

He frowned a little before pulling me by my arm. "I broke up with Janet."

"Oh, weren't you dating Liah?"

"That was before," he said, both of us crossing the compound. He waved at the rowdies who were crowded near their bikes under the shade of the trees. "And I wasn't dating her, we were fucking."

"When did you become buddies with them?" I stared at the group covered in tattoos and cheap fabrics, their eyes fierce as they acknowledged Sam with an understanding nod.

He tapped the outline of the joint in his front pocket. "They're pretty useful with stuff."

"Stuff?" I taunted, linking my arm with his. With my other free hand, I removed his sunglasses and saw his red-rimmed eyes.  "I knew it!"

He peevishly reached for the sunglasses. "I have nothing to do, yeah? Give it back."

"So draw, paint, read, not get high all day. What kind of fucked up hobby is this?"

He remained quiet, fixing the sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose. "What do you do all day?"

"I got a job at Bailey's Nuts from Allison's boyfriend Tony's reference. It's starting from tomorrow, but dad isn't letting me do it. He's asked me to stay at home and study for college as if I know what the hell I'm going to do in college. Anyway---" I paused when we crossed the street. "---his pride and all, always gets in the way. I'll go tomorrow and decline the offer."

"What the hell is Bailey's Nuts?" was all Sam asked in a bewildered tone, making me laugh.

* * *

I was feeling the soft fabric of a polo t-shirt, the small branded logo woven on the breast pocket. We were in the men's clothing section so Sam could peruse through some clothes, then after checking the price tags, he would buy similar pieces at the thrift store. Spotting a bomber jacket paired with a plain t-shirt, I picked it up and strode searchingly for him.

I heard familiar voices behind the clothing rack and as I went around it, I found Sam smiling amicably. "I wouldn't buy it anyway man, take it."

Handing a lemon yellow shirt towards a lean figure with a mop of curly hair, Sam noticed my presence and flashed the price tag to me. "Mariana, this guy and I went for the same shirt and he let me have it as if we could afford this . . . "

The sound of Sam's chuckle resonated in my ears as my eyes fleetingly connected to pale-grey ones next to him. I whirled back and hugging the clothes close to my chest, darted towards the exit. The alarm blared and realizing that I had taken the clothes with me, I thrust it to the security guard and ran out. Sam's chuckles, the blaring alarm, all noises vanished until I could hear only my heartbeats pounding loudly.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and my quivering chin, my agitated hands, the anxiety swirling in my stomach, my wobbly legs, all had stilled as if someone had ceased to play the guitar strings of my body.

"Hey, what happened?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knotted in confusion and a little smile playing on his lips.

Staring at Sam's face, I relaxed. "Nothing, I just accidentally took some clothes out of the store and-never mind. Let's go now, I forgot that I had to help abuela make dinner."

I felt Sam was looking at me suspiciously through his sunglasses, but then wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he led me out of the mall. I glanced back, in fear or maybe hopes of catching a glimpse of a curly-headed boy. Someone whom I hadn't seen since I was a twelve-year-old with skinny, grubby hands and feet. Someone whom I hadn't seen since I had last been happy.

* * *

A/N

This part is totally different from the rest as you can see. No continuation, right from the beginning, different beginning. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!