Chapter 21

I stare at my reflection. On the other side, I see a clean, bright man with nice hair, stylish clothes and a new haircut instead of a ghastly, pasty and disheveled figure of a man. Today, I am going to the aquarium with Wendy. It's like a date, but we're not dating.

Eura and Jay's love advice made me want to give an answer to Wendy's feelings. I still do not understand the deeper aspect of love, but I'm sure I'll understand one day. If our relationship doesn't work out in the end, it will be a good growing experience. It's embarrassing to admit, but even I am amazed that my twenty-five-year-old self is still maturing.

I finish getting dressed by putting on cologne. Instead of the musk scent that I wore before, I go with a fresh floral scent. The fragrance is actually women's perfume, but their products smell much nicer than men's products; I want to smell nice for Wendy.

My clothes consist of a short-sleeved, buttoned white shirt paired with clean dark denim jeans and black sneakers. It's not the most stylish look in the world, but I think I look decent. Eura and Jay picked out these clothes for me. They had bickered like siblings while trying to pick out clothes for me. I do know that despite being uncle and niece, Eura and Jay see each other like siblings—it's a given since they are six years apart.

I look at the expensive watch on my left wrist—this belongs to Jay, but he let me borrow it for this date. I should head out now. Wendy and I are meeting up at the parking lot. We're going together in her car.

Once I got to my living room, I notice my sketchbook on the table. Should I take it with me? No, I shouldn't rely on it all the time. I can talk. I have a phone. I have Wendy with me. I'll be okay.

Before heading out, I take one last look at the sketchbook. No, I must not falter. I take a deep breath and then I leave. I don't want to rely on it always. The sketchbook has caused me both good and bad, but spending time with Wendy and learning that talking with someone is much more efficient than writing on paper. I don't have to hear people say I'm weird or feel like I'm rude.

Once I reached the parking lot, Wendy waves at me. As I get a closer look at her, she looks very nice. She has her hair down and accessorizes it with a turquoise hair band. She wears a short coral dress that she wears with a white cardigan. She accessorizes herself with bracelets on each arm and a nice blue pendant dangling from her neck. She has a turquoise handbag slung over her shoulder. I would assume she would match her outfit with heels, but she's wearing flat sandals. I'm always familiar with her wearing casual, comfy outfits like hoodies, leggings and sweatpants, so to see her wearing a fashionable outfit like this and rocking it makes my heart skip a beat.

"How do I look?" Wendy asks shyly. This is the first time I've seen her this shy. How cute.

"You look great." I am telling the truth; she does look great. She's surprisingly fashionable and I like it. She knows how to mix and match fashion while still looking comfortable.

She smiles and then unlocks her car. "Let's go, then."

When I sit on the passenger's seat, a sense of joy comes to me. It has been a while since I last was in her car. The citrus smell is a lot stronger than before. I like it. She pulls out of the parking lot and we are on the road in a matter of seconds.

I cannot relax. Wendy is next to me and my heart is beating really fast. Why is it reacting this way all of a sudden? I am usually calm whenever I am with her. Is it because of my decision to confess? I turn to look at her. She's as cool as a cucumber; how can I be like that in this situation?

I can see her glancing at me quickly before focusing back on the road. "Can I ask you a question?"

Finally, some noise that I can hear other than my raging heartbeat. "Sure."

"Who was that woman that gave you vegetables?"

"You saw?"

"Rachel told me that a woman with sunglasses and a fancy red car gave you vegetables a while back. If you don't mind me asking, can I ask who she is?"

"Her name is Lauren Ku. She's my uncle Jay's girlfriend; well, now she's his fiancée."

"Your uncle is getting married?" Wendy seems surprised.

"Yes."

"No wonder. I was acting all coy around him before to see how'd he react to me. He was nice, but he was most likely holding himself back."

"He's devoted to her. She's a bit possessive of him, though. She doesn't like it when he spends too much time with me."

"How weird. You're his nephew. It's fine for him to spend time with his family."

"She thinks he prioritizes me too much, so that's why there's animosity between us."

Wendy pouts. "I don't like her."

"You never met her."

"That doesn't matter. I don't like her. If she's mean to you, I don't like her."

Hearing her words makes my heart flutter. She's cool. If someone was mean to Wendy, I wouldn't like them either—like that ex-boyfriend of hers. I don't like him.

"If you don't mind me asking again, who was that lady you were with earlier this week? Rachel told me that there was a ruckus and you went into a car."

"That was my sister, Eura."

"Your sister?"

"You didn't know? She lived in my apartment until about two years ago; that was when I moved in."

"She was my neighbor?"

"When did you move into the apartment?"

"Three years ago, right after I graduated college."

"Wow."

Wendy glances over at me before fixating herself back on the road. "It's normal for Americans to become independent after college. We are Americans too. I also didn't want to hear my parents nagging about my sloppiness in front of me constantly. That was why I moved out."

"You don't seem like the sloppy type."

"I am. I definitely am. Haven't you seen all my canvases in my apartment? They're all scattered around. My room may be dim, but that's because it's severely disorganized."

"You don't like cleaning?"

"I clean like twice a month. In fact, I cleaned my apartment like two days ago; that was how I found these clothes." To be honest, she does seem like the disorganized type. I haven't met other artists, so I cannot vouch for organization; I consider myself organized—mainly because I don't really have a lot of things in my apartment. I do like keeping things tidy. If possible, I'd like to clean Wendy's apartment if she lets me. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.

"It must have been hard cleaning all those canvases."

"Yeah, I have a room that I use as storage."

"Do you sell your paintings?"

"Online, yes. I've got my slew of clients who like my paintings."

"Nice. I like selling my stuff as prints but I also like doing commissions."

"Your art is so nice. I once browsed through your entire social media page and forgot to sleep."

Hearing her joke about losing sleep over my social media page makes me chuckle a bit. I like having these conversations with Wendy. Is this what it means to love someone? If so, I want to do this all the time. I want to talk about silly and trivial things with her. I like how she reacts. I like how she jokes around. I will do my best to give her a proper answer today. I just need to find that good opportunity.

We continue talking until we reached the aquarium.

~

Wendy is awestruck at the sights around her. Her reaction is the same as mine. It has been such a long time since I last visited the aquarium. When was the last time I came here? The last memory I can remember of this place was when my grandparents came over from Chicago. When was that? Middle school?

Wendy wants to ride on the moving platform, so we both got on it to see the sharks. It feels like traversing through an underwater tunnel. Creatures of the sea are so fascinating. They swim about in the water without a care in the world. I'm always fascinated with how they can live in the ocean. The ocean is terrifying. No one knows how deep the ocean truly is. It's like the universe; no one knows how far it goes.

Once we step off of the platform, Wendy grabs my hand and starts pulling my arm. "Let's go to the whale tank! I want to see the Beluga whale!"

Her hand holding mine is warm. There are many different kinds of warmth, but the one I feel from our hands is the perfect kind of warmth. The way I see her back guiding me, the way her hair dances, the way time seems to stop when my eyes are on her is mesmerizing. It's bewitching. It's breathtaking. Is this what it feels for me to be in love?

When time starts moving around me, I see Wendy plastering her face against the beluga whale tank. Half of her face is covered with a mask, so she is not slobbering all over the glass. She starts rambling on about how the beluga whale jiggles its head and how much she enjoys the sight of it. A part of me finds her hilarious and the other part frets over the concerned gazes people are giving her.

"Wendy, please calm down." I utter to her.

Wendy notices the stares and then walks back a few steps. She whispers, "Let's go", and both of us are scurrying off to another area far away from the beluga tank.

We look at many different tanks until one catches my eye: the jellyfish tank. A whirlwind of childhood memories flows into me. The jellyfishes were the first sea creatures that moved my heart as a boy. I remembered loving how mysterious they were. They had no faces and floated about freely. I think looking at jellyfishes had sparked the artistic side in me. It was an artwork of different colored jellyfish that my art teacher praised me; the reason it became my passion. Looking back, my very first digital art piece that I drew as a professional, freelance artist—as Quackgene—was a picture of glowing jellyfishes–the one titled Colors.

The jellyfish in the tank look like they're glowing. I am mesmerized. If the universe had stars, the ocean had stars in the form of jellyfish. Stars are balls of glowing gas that move as they please. Jellyfish are spineless, brainless creatures that float about as they please. The sight of stars and jellyfish are always calming to people.

"You must really like jellyfish." Wendy points out. "You're staring at them so…lovingly."

"Am I?" I become flustered when she mentions my loving stares at the creatures. I don't want to be misunderstood; love for humans and love for animals are different, I believe. I love Wendy but it's not the same way I love jellyfish.

"Yeah." She walks towards the tank and stares at them. "I don't really get the hype of these creatures. They don't have brains or spines—they don't even have faces. How can they love? How can they reproduce? How can they live?"

"I think that just adds more to their charms." She hums in response. When I look to give Wendy eye contact, I feel dazed. The glowing tank makes Wendy look illuminating. Her side profile is really nice. The way her eyes gaze upon the jellyfish despite her slight disdain for them is a sight to behold; her eyelashes are a lot longer than I realized. She continues to surprise me in ways I do not know and I love that about her.

Love…

"I love you, Wendy." I see her eyes widening as she slowly turns her head to look into my eyes.

I had thought of many ways I could go about confessing to her. I conjured up so many scenarios from scenes that came out of romance movies to quoting romantic verses from popular romance novels. None of them felt like me, though. Thinking about how straightforward Eura and Jay had confessed made me realize that this is the best way. Just saying it without beating around the bush. Simple and straight to the point. I do not fear what happens after. I finally responded to her feelings. Although my mouth is concealed with my mask, I gesture a smile towards her.

Wendy's eyes glisten. Her eyebrows furrow. Teardrops trickle down from both eyes. The awe I felt from seeing the sight of the tank's light illuminating the right side of her body quickly disappeared because I am more concerned about her sudden tears. I've never seen her cry before. Do I have a handkerchief? A napkin? I don't have time to check my bag. I use the next best thing in my arsenal: my fingers. It's unhygienic, but it's better than nothing.

After I wipe away two of her tears, she whispers, "Does this mean this counts as our first date?"

That's a very good question. I asked her out to the aquarium before I confessed. Now that I did and we are still here, I guess it counts now. "Yes." I want to reassure her that we are going steady now. Today is our official first day and our first date.