Deja Vu

So here goes my dream: I am standing on a tunnel, my car parked beside me. Another car stops by, and Andrew Sullivan steps out. I don't remember, or hear, what I am saying; my dream always goes like an echo. But I can see, Drew takes a step closer toward me, arms wide open, and suddenly I bury my head on his chest, my arms hanging freely. I see Drew pat my shoulder, strokes my hair with his warm, gentle hand, and I smell his perfume, like sea breeze and a little bit pine.

I hear a ringtone, too, and I think it will end immediately. It turns out not. I watch the me standing in Drew's arms answers the call, which is from Brit.

"You are a bitch. No more than a bitch. Keep that in mind, bitch."

And strange, I watch the me inside Drew's hug is laughing, and I realise, and know, why. Because there's nothing matters as long as Drew is here. I see Drew breaks the distance between us, I see me tilts my--or her--head, and Drew's full lips suddenly on mine.

Maybe it's not dream. Maybe I won't ever wake up. Just like Brit, even though a meteor crashes this planet we step on, I won't care at all. What really matters to me is Drew is here, and he tightens his hug. Nothing can break this moment, nothing.

Nothing but....

"Piper! Wake up, honey!"

I shut my eyes open, regret it almost immediately because sunshine blinds them. I am breathing heavily. My mom just opened the curtain, one thing I always hate yet she never stops doing.

"Morning, sunshine. Let's blind the world with your light!"

It's always been  her mantra. She says it whenever I wake up or get my hope down. She once said it had been her mother's mantra, too, and I can't help it but favourite that quote. My mom, a poetic single mother who always believes in magic and fairytale. She's that kind of hopeless romantic woman, too, she's always been, even after she met my father, caught a spark of temporary summer romance, so in love that he got her pregnant and ran away after he knew it.

She admitted he called her twice or trice when I was in 4th grade, and I was so curious about how it felt having a dad, so we met, for the first time of my life, in NYC. He brought his lovely bride-to-be, and my mom ended up crying along the road home. That was when I swore I wouldn't ever call my father again, when I swore that life could be so harsh, but as long as I had my mom, I wouldn't ever cry.

"Ready to shine their way?" my mom asks, throwing herself on my bed. She looks at me carefully, and asks again, "Hey, you look so pale."

"I'm okay," I say.

"Having a fever?" She put his back hand on my forehead and shrugs. "No, not fever. Getting anxious because you're meeting Drew today?"

"I'm not being... hey, how could you know I'm going to meet him?" I wrinkle.

"A momma's instinct," she answers cheerfully as she gets up and dances around my bedroom, "I lie, of course. Drew called couple of minutes ago. He said he and Brit would be here in..."

Precisely after that, the knocks on the door startles me. My mom smiles knowingly at me.

"Get out of bed and get dressed! I'll meet them and see what kind of flower he does bring..."

"Mom!"

"I was joking, of course, joking," she manages a laugh while I bang my bathroom door locked. I shower as quick as I can and rush to my wardrobe. Luckily I'm not picky about choosing what to wear, what could I reach is what I will wear.

I grab a scarf and linger it around my neck, and have no time to care about shoes. I wear pair of my favourite ones carelessly and go to my family room.

And here they are. Brittany Mason, the prettiest girl in school, and the hottie Andrew Sullivan.

My mom knows them so well, so I'm not shocked they laugh as if they were on the same line. Sometimes my mom is being so ridiculously childish, and people tend to see her as my sister instead of mother. I couldn't blame them really. We only have 17 years difference.

"Hey, Pipe," Drew smiles at me, "just calm down."

To my surprise, he wears the same clothes as I saw in my dream. White Polo t-shirt, mud black denim jacket, torn jeans, and shoes he always wears on the football yard. And the cap... there it is, on his lap. Watching him that way makes me sweaty.

And Brit, well, if she appeared in my dream wearing the same clothes, too, without doubt I'd have called her the boss of the bitch. She's wearing crop top and hot pants as if it's summer already. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun, though I still notice her new bleaching experiment. Purple today.

Brit. Gorgeous as always, and as long as I remember... yes, she's never been ugly.

"Piper! Uh, finally! Let's get out of here!" Brit stands and grabs my arms, her habit.

"Yes, get out of here, honey. Remember the curfew, okay? And here is your key." My mom hands me our old Volkswagen key.

"What?"

"Daddy's angry somewhere over there, he still couldn't deal with my scores last term. So, you can guess..." Brit rolls her eyes.

"He didn't allow you to get your car," I continue with a nod. It's not hard to guess, and I prefer to take it easy. "Let's go, then."

We go outside and I chill. It's March, one of my preferable month, when flower starts to blossom and leaves are turning green again. Mom said it's important to be grateful, whatever the season is. I called her liar because she's grateful the most when midnight sale season comes.

I don't get my driving lisense yet, but my easy going mom believes it in me. I drive my car, with Drew in passenger seat and Brit is behind us, chattering endlessly. Every single time we stop because of traffic light, she starts to mutter, and Drew and I will exchange a look and laugh soundlessly. But for today, I try to not to look at Drew, even for once. I know it would distract me, remind me of my dream. Until now, I can't help but blushed whenever the thought of me-and-him-kissing crosses my mind. For today, I try to look as nonchalant as I could.

I park my car once we pass Lucia's gateway, my and Drew's and Brit's first list Italian restaurant. We drop by here so often that I memorise the security's name, Douglas. I know, from his friendly look, that he memorises us, too. 

"Finally! Lucia's!" Brit's blue eyes widened.

"Yeah, Lucia's," I parrot, yanking my key out and open the door. Spring air slams my face, that sweet, kind of petrichor air....

"Keep daydreaming, Pipes," Brit grumbles as she takes my arm and drag me to the entrance. We still have one year 30% off voucher, which we bought for 75 dollars. We, I mean me, Drew, Brit, and Caitlin.

"I haven't been here for millenia, I think," Brit mumbles.

"Millenia? We took out breakfast here three months ago, remember? We skirt off chemistry and Caitlin couldn't make it from detention room."

Suddenly I wish I could swallow my words again. It's an old story, I feel it comes from a different lifetime. Caitlin Rouge was Drew's girlfriend, part of our gang, too. We broke our friendship when Brit and Drew caught off kissing in the maths class. It was the bleakest time of my life; we didn't talk to other. But now everything's fine, though Caitlin never shows off again since then.

Secretly, Caitlin and I still chatting by Line or WhatsApp. Secretly, Brit was, and is, so in love with Drew that she chose to betray her best friend and kiss Drew. She said she did it by accident, but I've known her so well, too well that I could tell she had prepared it.

To be honest, Caitlin is not as gorgeous as Brit, despite her silver blond hair and full lips, which make her interesting. She's cheerful, too, yet she never says something if she couldn't see the importance. It broke my heart, you know, realising we wouldn't ever be the same. Me and her and Brit. She'd been the scale between the talkative Brit and the quiet, passive Piper Owens.

"How about picking the menu?" Drew clears his throat, and I break off.

"Oh, yes, sure, let's pick," Brit agrees in low tone. 

We wait until several minutes, and as usual, Brit talks about those nail-polishing and bleaching and manicuring things. Drew and I love to talk about books and old movies, something neither Brit nor Caitlin ever understand. However, with Brit here and voice as high as ladder, how could we be selfish and talk about something she doesn't have interest in?

"... so I said to the hairdresser, just to please her, 'Thank you very much, I love the bleaching,' but after I got home I was like, 'What the fuck did that bitch do to my hair?!' The next day I went to another salon to get my purple," she sighs. "Hey, guys, don't you pay attention to me?"

Drew and I only nod.

"What was my story about?" Brit sues.

"Um, the bitch who got your hair bleached in ugly colour?" I guess.

"Not precise."

"It's still cold outside," Drew pleads, "the air disrupted our ears, your voice sounded muffled."

Nice try, Drew. Very nice try.

"You guys didn't listen," she nags, disappointed. You know my Brit. She's getting disappointed by easiest, simplest thing to handle on earth.

Luckily the waiter comes to deliver our meals, and we enjoy it for a moment. Brit's only quiet when it's time to eat, and yes, food is one of simplest mantras to make her forget her annoyance, too. So after spicy pepperoni pizza and some breads, Brit turns as cheerful as usual.

"Go another place now?" Brit asks.

"No, I think," Drew snaps, a way too excited. He clears his throat before he says, "Umm, I'm gonna confess something here."

Brit's eyes are widened again, and smile grows on her face. I look around. I know what he's gonna confess. I've known it, for so long, that it would happen. It just surprises me a little bit that Drew takes this much time. Brit said she wondered about it every night.

"I think I'm in love with you, Piper."

I'm so shocked. It must be cold air disrupting my ears, or cold air blinding Drew's eyes.

I see smile falters from Brit's face.

"But, but, it must be a mistake here."

"Pardon me?" Drew wrinkles at her.

Brit stand up, looks disgusted. "You must be mistaken, Drew. You can't be in love with Piper. You can't be in love with... with this girl."

"Tell me why can't I?" Drew asks calmly.

"Because there's me," she says it in the trust-me-I-know-everything way.

"So why? Why if there's you?"

"Why? Every Adam in world knows who's prettiest, smartest, sexiest, among Piper and me. Oh, and Caitlin," she quickly adds. "She's nothing, Drew, nothing."

I'm nothing. Nothing.

The fact that I'm nothing doesn't surprise me. The way Brit says it does.

"Yes, she's right," I gulp. "I'm nothing. You must be mistaken."

"Don't plead yourself, Pipes. You know you're not a saint, yet you always act like you are. Saving for marriage, going to church every Sunday. Remember what you came from? Remember that you have no dad? You, and your mom. My mom told me your mom was a bitch, too, and so you are."

"You could talk badly about me, but not my mother," I snap. "You're not a saint either, Brit. Remember Caitlin? Remember how we talked about forever? Remember when you broke it, and you said to her that Drew pushed you to kiss him?" I fire back at her.

"Wait... did you really say that?" Drew looks like I'd just slammed him.

I'd hit the spot, and it grows Brit's anger. Without thinking she grabs her Cola glass, flushes it to me.

I bite my lips. I wouldn't cry. Wouldn't dream of it.

"I'm going home," I say for final deal. I take my sling bag and go outside, driving my car without thinking. I'm speeding, and I don't care about that.

All of sudden my car stops, right near the tunnel.

"Shit, shit, shit. Out of petrol."

I open the door, sweep the scenery around me. It's a beautiful March afternoon, and my friendship and Brit ends that way.

Doesn't she know I love her? As much as I love Caitlin, as much as I love Drew.

Drew....

Remembering him doesn't help much, only digs my anger deeper. Drew wasn't supposed to say that, he's never been supposed to. I hate him for that. I hate my crush for liking me back.

And the deja vu goes on. A black car stops by, and Drew gets off.

"Jammed again, isn't it?" he asks with voice as soft as marshmellow.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss.

"Chasing after you," he answers simply.

Now I know what actually I said in my dream. Drew opens his arms and suddenly I am in them. It feels so comfortable, so warm and so right that I could cry right now.

"Why did you say it?" I whisper.

"Because I meant it," he replies. His pitch lightens my body. I sense I not only could cry. I could fly.

"Do you mean it now?"

"I always mean it, Piper," he smiles crookedly, brushing hair that flies out of my ponytail.

"I always hope you mean it, too," I admit. "Just tell me that it's real, Drew."

He laughs softly, takes a step closer and bend down. "Only one way to make sure, isn't it?"

I am holding my breath now. Drew tilts my head, and as I close my eyes, I taste his lips. Full, warm, and tastes like pepperoni.

Oh, yes, we just ate pepperoni. One thing filling me with happiness is, you couldn't taste pepperoni in your dream.

When I gasp for air, he breaks down, smiles again. "I love you, Pipe. Believe me now?"

I only stare at him, and I hope he understands.

Then after, my phone rings. And sure you know what happens next.

30/6/2013, 8:46 pm.