Chapter 3

As soon as I get back home, I crash on my bed. My mom isn't home but my dad is.

"Hey," He says, strictly.

"Why did you come home late?"

I gulp. Heavy. I muster up enough courage to say something; to lie.

"I got confused with the bus stuff and had to taxi home." I say quickly. He nods an strolls into his room.

I check the time. 4:07. I have a math class at 4: 30. Until then, I sit on my bed with my laptop. I get tense.

How is this happening? I had a great track record when it comes to romance! The first time I liked someone, we dated for three years. Nothing even happened when it came to romance! I was just dating! And now I'm double-dating -or double-doing or whatever they call it! I angrily open a new tab and put my playlist on. I fell onto my back on my bed once again. I would've done some music work, but whatever. 

I think now I should tell you about my music career. I'm pretty proud of how far I've come. Ever since I was a little kid; around seven years old, I loved music. If I remember correctly, my sister introduced me to music. She introduced me to a lot of things. Regardless, I fell in love with music. I did choir and I still do. I started practicing the drumset. Now I only do it for my songs. Speaking of which, I started singing for the public last year. It's been pretty fun since then. I've done a whole album with 13,000 listens in total, I got to have a few small conversations with other musicians and singers; none of them I knew beforehand but it was still a great experience. And-yeah! That's my career. Or that's at least how I would put it.

After sitting there for a while, I get back onto my desk and start my online class. I've always been one of the smartest kids in the school, rivaling even the best kids in the older grades. However, I remember one year; 6th grade and it all stopped. I stopped feeling like I needed to work and it put a halt at my fast progress in smarts. However, I have remained in some of the better classes; honors, advanced. It really only occurred to me in 7th grade though. I really had some of the best memories in 6th grade because of that.

"Aline?" My teacher asks through the screen.

"Uhm- yeah?" I ask.

"Where were you? You didn't do the last two questions." She says.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll do it right away." I say quickly. I immediately whip out my notebook from my messy desk filled to the brim with papers with poorly written song lyrics, sketchbooks, an assortment of face creams and many pens; some in cups, some lying around. I look up at the board and write down the questions. I've always had trouble with snapping out of it, so to speak- like losing track. When I think too fast and too much, I usually lose track of my surroundings.

I start to do my work more diligently as the class goes on.

I woke up the next day, incredibly exhausted. The rest of the first few school days go by with not much happening. I started to talk to Liem a lot more, but I didn't have any interactions with Cara or at least none where I could actually hold conversation. It's almost like I want to talk to her, but I can't. Interestingly enough, I haven't talked to Akako much either. I'm scared that she somehow figured out what happened about Cara, so I've just been waiting for her to say something to me these days. Then, Saturday rolls around.

I wake up not even remembering I was planning to go to the gym that day. I even walked downstairs and made myself a cup of milk when he texted me the place we're going to. I immediately panicked and sprinted my way to my house door. I shoot him a text back asking him if he could pick me up. My muscles tense and my stomach churns once again. My mom's gonna kill me!

See, my mom really hates it when I make other people do more work. I wasn't necessarily scared she would yell at me for going out since I had told her that friday, yet it still scared me because of the inconvenience. I text my mom that I'm going and soon enough Liem's sister pulls up into the driveway and I hop in.

He looks me up and down as I fasten my seatbelt.

"Really?" He asks. I look down. I'm pretty much wearing pajamas. I look at him expressionlessly.

"That's really sad, bro. You better be able to run at least a six or something by now." He says, almost pitying me. We have a small chat through the car ride, mostly comprised of him bullying me, and we get to the place.

"C'mon. What're you standing there for?" He says. I follow him into the place. As soon as I look around, I see a bunch of bizarre equipment; some I have seen before, all I have never used before (except the treadmill now.) Speaking of which, the wounds have healed and it wasn't really serious. I walk to the treadmill, assuming we'd be starting the same as we did before.

"Dude, lemme see if you can even hold a single pound first. I already know you're trash at running." He says, incredibly seriously.

"I don't!" I say, confidently.

"You run like a literal horse. And you can't be talking. You fell off the treadmill while trying to turn it off." He says cockily. I stay quiet and follow him.

"Listen, it's cool. I'm kinda new to this too. But, you ain't gonna learn if your running is anything close to your lifting. Pick up the one pound." He says, almost like an instructor teaching a class. Unlike an instructor teaching a class, however, I listened and picked up the one pound with just a little difficulty.

"Okay, better than I thought. Try three." He says. I pickup the three pound weights. I hold them as they start to stain my muscles. After twenty seconds though, I manage to stay strong. He nods.

"Five," He commands. I take the five and try to stretch out my whole arm with no success; somehow still passing the twenty-second test.

"Alright. You're really a newbie. Almost how I was a year and a half ago. It's fine though. If it took me a year and a half, It'll only take you about until you're thirty." He says.

"My god," I mutter under my breath.

"Go on and try five for as long as you can. I'll set a timer." He says. He clicks some buttons on his watch and says, "Go!"

00:43. Pretty okay for my first time, I would think. I look over to him.

"Oh my god," He says. The look of horror and concern drawn on his face starts to look cartoonish.

"Yo, I was joking. You didn't have to prove me right." He said, looking even pale in the face now. 

"Could we just run now?" I ask.

"Yes. I can go on the treadmill. You run away from this place as far as you can." He says, snickering.

"MY GOD!" I yell, slightly agitated now.

"Alright dude. Chill. I'm gonna crank yours to seven though and you should be able to last around eight minutes in that." He says, strolling over to the multiple treadmills, a few of which are taken. I follow him.

"You brought your earbuds, right? Don't you take them everywhere?" He asks.

"I think so." I dig into my pockets and find nothing. I pull out my pockets to gesture that I don't have them.

"I do usually bring them everywhere, but I didn't get them today." I say, nervously, almost like he was going to lecture me like when my teachers do when I walk into class with headphones.

He sighs.

"Fine, you can use mine, but I'm picking the songs. Deal?" He says, knowing for a fact I am very picky about my songs. However, I adamantly nod at him yes.

"A'ight." He says, again pressing a bunch of buttons I think I know now and connecting his wireless earbuds to his phone. He gives them to me as the treadmill starts moving. I immediately slam the earbuds into my head and start to jog, holding them tightly as I continue. I look over to him and he gestures to take my hands off of the earbuds. I read his lips saying "It'll break!" and I stop. As I continue running, I listen to Liem's playlist which actually isn't half bad. Some of the songs I even know. I gesture back at him by pointing to the earbuds and giving a thumbs up. He lightly nods back at me and turns away.

A few minutes go by and somehow I'm not on the floor. It's almost like, even without training in the last few days, I actually want to do this. Not just because of Liem. Maybe I'll ask him to go tomorrow? I think as I continue running, starting to struggle now. After a few more minutes, I get tired and frantically look for the stop button. When I finally see it, I slam it and grab the railings as my body slides down. I see him click a bunch of buttons and slide off his treadmill smoothly. 

"Twelve minutes. I hate to say it, but that's not that bad- for you at least." He said. And my smile's probably really visible from that point because he asks…

"Are you okay, bro?" And I just nod again. Once, I snap back to my senses, I start talking again.

"That was nice." I say, still grinning.

"Alright then." He says.

"So, are you gonna get a drive home or do you want us to drive you home?" He asked.

"Oh, wait. That's it?" I ask, a bit disappointed.

"Yeah. I guess so. There's not much you can do at your level."

"In all honesty." He adds.

"A'ight then. Is it chill if your sister drops us home?" I say.

"No. It isn't." He says, seriously. I stare at him.

"Nah, I'm just playing. I called her before we started running so I think she's here now." He says, walking towards the glass doors. As we get into the car, we start to chat (albeit limitedly because his sister's there) and he drops me off. I walk back into my house and just drop on my bed, body aching. As the days go by, I keep thinking about Cara. Even at the gym that day, she was wedged between the back sides of my brain. After that day at the parlor, I felt a weird tingling in the veins under my skin. I could feel this orange, cocky, devious energy take over my body. I haven't yet discovered what it is, but I'm sure I will soon. 

I also think about Liem a lot. I don't know about him. He's my friend; of course he is- but, he's so odd. His snarky remarks, almost pretending to be friends with me. I feel vulnerable when I talk to him. Like really vulnerable.

The next day, I go to the gym. Same gym as before. Same exercises as before. I thought I'd see him, but I guess he either didn't come or came at a different time because I couldn't see even a glimpse of him. As my sister drives my home from my workout (which she was forced to do by my mom) I keep wondering. I've tried to drop the Cara thing but Liem was still chilling in my head. He really is a chill dude. Until he isn't. It's weird. After a while, I drop both things and focus on more of my music stuff. I've decided to start singing a few love songs, trying not to think of Cara all the way through. I don't know; is she becoming my lover? Or whatever they say. Is she becoming that person I thought Akako was. Am I-NO! Stop! I don't like her. No way! As I continue to sing my song, I try my best not to think about the situation. I start stumbling my words as I read, continuing to need to do multiple takes.

At last, after barely getting to record, I lay down in bed with my headphones on. Then, I take them off. I don't have any songs I wanna listen to. I barge into my sister's room, laying down on her even softer bed.

"Get out," She says.

"I'm good," I say, getting cozied up in the blanket.

"No, you aren't. I'm trying to do work. Leave." She said,

I shrug and continue to rest. She walks over to her bed angrily and I finally give in and scurry back into my room and I, for maybe the sixth time today, jumped back onto my bed. I reluctantly put my headphones on while I think of something to do. This is another time where I just want to go home. Like home-home. A place I can simply rest without being mentally, emotionally or morally conflicted or all of them at the same time. I wish I could watch something with my sister.

Speaking of which, I think this is a great time to talk about my sister. She is three years older than me and really ambitious. She loves doing what she does which is to make merchandise and art. She's really successful for her age. She's made 8,000 dollars in revenue, I think. Anyway, she's the person who got me into music and the person who got me into wanting to become a musician even though she is actively embarrassed whenever I say something about my music with people she even has the farthest relationship from. I know she's proud of me and knows my smarts.