Status: active as it could be (every other week on tuesdays and saturdays)
Lackadaisical
CHAPTER TWO
It was throat-tickling whenever he tried to be seductive. The way he would run his finger tips across her bare arm was the most cheesiest thing she has ever experienced. He would continuously call her corny nicknames in the deepest of hours, which unquestionably made her cringe. She occasionally thought about duck taping his plump lips shut because nicknames were beyond tacky. Boy, do not get her started with the geeky facial defect on the sides of his full cheeks.
But he was indeed kissable. Of course those feelings were months ago. Today Samatra Rae would not even challenge herself to think of the curly boy. The bitter sensation of his name would stay on her tongue for a moment too long.
Towards the middle of October, Samatra Rae moved back to the United States, fulfilling her life’s desire of finally becoming as a journalist. Towards the end of May, Samatra decided to visit the foreign land, as so they called it, to an old relative since she had saved enough money for a small, well-earned vacation. London’s heavy traffic made Samatra remember the distant memories of Harry Styles—a moody fella, who almost mastered a menopause-like phase and broke her heart. She liked to tell the story of Harry Styles based on her own perspective, leaving out the details of her playing him like a cheap Wal-Mart toy.
The Styles Effect, she called it, started to flash in her mind, as her grandmother checked in on her, asking where she currently was. The moment Samatra picked up her cell phone, her grandmother mused an old memory, prickling her throat with a frantic taste.
“Ma, I do not know where he is,” Samatra replied lowly. “How would I know how he’s doing?” Another pause. “I am sorry for my tone. Okay. Once I am out of this awful traffic, I will be there in no time. I will see you soon. Bye, love you.”
Similar to an itch forming on her bare arms, Samatra felt as if thorns were piercing through her hands. The guilt around her neck suffocated her clean air. She recalled the day she separated from Harry Styles perfectly. Not a detail or word was missed. Samatra held onto the memory like an old shirt. The recollection of Samatra telling Harry their relationship was fake was clear in her head. It was as if it was yesterday she had told him the reality of their affiliation.
As Samatra spotted her grandmother, Janis Vega, sitting lonesome under an umbrella, she could smell the sweet scent of coffee beans and fresh banana bread bursting into her nostrils. Her grandmother’s hat was taking over her head, covering most of her face, leaving her signature rosy lips visible. Janis kept her head high, staring through her round sunglasses.
Janis let out a small horse-like laugh, standing up to hug her granddaughter once she spotted Samatra. The moment they hugged, Samatra felt her legs shake and her arms weaken. Samatra felt more at ease whenever her grandmother is on her side.
“Darling Samatra, I missed you,” Janis sang, smiling into Samatra’s arm. She looked up at her granddaughter, feeling the tears fall down to her cheeks. “Would you like something to drink? It is all on me.” The light in Janis’s eyes sparkled brightly amongst the two. “Dearie, how are you?”
Samatra wiped her own tears and laughed a little. “I feel great.” The word did not connect to how she was really feeling.
“Sit sit, dearie,” Janis said. “This is probably not the first place you would go to after a long plane flight, is it?” She tried to smile. “What is on your mind?”
“First things first, I have not showered in the last fifteen hours.” Samatra joked. She took her grandmother’s hands across the table and smiled.
“What’s up? Your sense of style has changed?” Janis stared at Samatra’s sweater and made a face. “Or maybe it’s because you have not shaved for a while—perhaps feeling a bit hairy?”
“How long have you worked on that one, gran?”
“Ever since you announced you were coming for a visit. Now, the most information I got was from those expensive magazines at the Al’s magazine stand. And you know Al and his motto, you read, you buy. The man is ten years older than me but could run like the wind.”
Samatra nodded slowly, thinking hard about Harry. Easy for her, the moment blew off quickly. “Simple. Harry Styles and Samatra Rae have not talked for months. Nothing hairy is going on there.”
“Well, Samatra Rae and Harry Styles needs to find closure – simple as that. Even after a hard-hitting breakup, closure is what some people need.”
Words like that evoked nostalgic memories of Harry Styles. Samatra pushed away the thought and tried to keep her mind clear.
“I was dumb and he was a bitch. Together we made D&B.” She laughed at her own joke. “I do not regret anything, but I do wish I was smarter about the relationship with Harry and my relationship with Caroline. If I weren’t so desperate looking for a job, I wouldn’t had dealt with her.”
“Then what you are saying is that if you had not come to London because of Caroline you wouldn’t had to meet Harry and your life would have been the slightest better?” Janis challenged.
“What I am saying is that I wouldn’t be so dependent on others if Caroline was not involved in my life.” Samatra stared at her finger nails and took in a deep breath. “I depended on Harry so much I felt I was never complete without him in my life – he was my anchor, pulling me down with him.”
“I’ll be damned.”
Samatra stared at her grandmother. The same vintage soul did not spark in her eyes, no longer sitting but prancing around the flames in her eyes was a spark youth.
“What is the point in resisting when it is so desirable?”
Samatra paused. “Well, I’ll be damned. You have a boyfriend.”
Her grandmother looked mortified. “What on earth made you think I have a boyfriend?!”
“The lipstick you are wearing, the color of your choice of lipstick, oh, and the hickey on your neck.”
Janis reached for her neck in shock. “Samatra! I cannot believe you are talking to your grandmother like this!”
Samatra erupted into laughter, watching her grandmother stare at her. Janis shifted uneasily, blushing in all shades of red. Her own granddaughter made her feel embarrassed for this outcry.
“People are starting to stare Samatra. What is so funny?”
“It was a little humor. Just pulling your leg.” Samatra retained herself, sniffing the last laugh. “What is his name?”
“No name.”
“When will I meet Mr. No Name?”
“When I am dead.”
“That will be quit a funeral.”
“Stop making death jokes and order something already.” Her grandmother shook her head before throwing one only and last smirk in Samatra’s direction.
But he was indeed kissable. Of course those feelings were months ago. Today Samatra Rae would not even challenge herself to think of the curly boy. The bitter sensation of his name would stay on her tongue for a moment too long.
- - -
Towards the middle of October, Samatra Rae moved back to the United States, fulfilling her life’s desire of finally becoming as a journalist. Towards the end of May, Samatra decided to visit the foreign land, as so they called it, to an old relative since she had saved enough money for a small, well-earned vacation. London’s heavy traffic made Samatra remember the distant memories of Harry Styles—a moody fella, who almost mastered a menopause-like phase and broke her heart. She liked to tell the story of Harry Styles based on her own perspective, leaving out the details of her playing him like a cheap Wal-Mart toy.
The Styles Effect, she called it, started to flash in her mind, as her grandmother checked in on her, asking where she currently was. The moment Samatra picked up her cell phone, her grandmother mused an old memory, prickling her throat with a frantic taste.
“Ma, I do not know where he is,” Samatra replied lowly. “How would I know how he’s doing?” Another pause. “I am sorry for my tone. Okay. Once I am out of this awful traffic, I will be there in no time. I will see you soon. Bye, love you.”
Similar to an itch forming on her bare arms, Samatra felt as if thorns were piercing through her hands. The guilt around her neck suffocated her clean air. She recalled the day she separated from Harry Styles perfectly. Not a detail or word was missed. Samatra held onto the memory like an old shirt. The recollection of Samatra telling Harry their relationship was fake was clear in her head. It was as if it was yesterday she had told him the reality of their affiliation.
As Samatra spotted her grandmother, Janis Vega, sitting lonesome under an umbrella, she could smell the sweet scent of coffee beans and fresh banana bread bursting into her nostrils. Her grandmother’s hat was taking over her head, covering most of her face, leaving her signature rosy lips visible. Janis kept her head high, staring through her round sunglasses.
Janis let out a small horse-like laugh, standing up to hug her granddaughter once she spotted Samatra. The moment they hugged, Samatra felt her legs shake and her arms weaken. Samatra felt more at ease whenever her grandmother is on her side.
“Darling Samatra, I missed you,” Janis sang, smiling into Samatra’s arm. She looked up at her granddaughter, feeling the tears fall down to her cheeks. “Would you like something to drink? It is all on me.” The light in Janis’s eyes sparkled brightly amongst the two. “Dearie, how are you?”
Samatra wiped her own tears and laughed a little. “I feel great.” The word did not connect to how she was really feeling.
“Sit sit, dearie,” Janis said. “This is probably not the first place you would go to after a long plane flight, is it?” She tried to smile. “What is on your mind?”
“First things first, I have not showered in the last fifteen hours.” Samatra joked. She took her grandmother’s hands across the table and smiled.
“What’s up? Your sense of style has changed?” Janis stared at Samatra’s sweater and made a face. “Or maybe it’s because you have not shaved for a while—perhaps feeling a bit hairy?”
“How long have you worked on that one, gran?”
“Ever since you announced you were coming for a visit. Now, the most information I got was from those expensive magazines at the Al’s magazine stand. And you know Al and his motto, you read, you buy. The man is ten years older than me but could run like the wind.”
Samatra nodded slowly, thinking hard about Harry. Easy for her, the moment blew off quickly. “Simple. Harry Styles and Samatra Rae have not talked for months. Nothing hairy is going on there.”
“Well, Samatra Rae and Harry Styles needs to find closure – simple as that. Even after a hard-hitting breakup, closure is what some people need.”
Words like that evoked nostalgic memories of Harry Styles. Samatra pushed away the thought and tried to keep her mind clear.
“I was dumb and he was a bitch. Together we made D&B.” She laughed at her own joke. “I do not regret anything, but I do wish I was smarter about the relationship with Harry and my relationship with Caroline. If I weren’t so desperate looking for a job, I wouldn’t had dealt with her.”
“Then what you are saying is that if you had not come to London because of Caroline you wouldn’t had to meet Harry and your life would have been the slightest better?” Janis challenged.
“What I am saying is that I wouldn’t be so dependent on others if Caroline was not involved in my life.” Samatra stared at her finger nails and took in a deep breath. “I depended on Harry so much I felt I was never complete without him in my life – he was my anchor, pulling me down with him.”
“I’ll be damned.”
Samatra stared at her grandmother. The same vintage soul did not spark in her eyes, no longer sitting but prancing around the flames in her eyes was a spark youth.
“What is the point in resisting when it is so desirable?”
Samatra paused. “Well, I’ll be damned. You have a boyfriend.”
Her grandmother looked mortified. “What on earth made you think I have a boyfriend?!”
“The lipstick you are wearing, the color of your choice of lipstick, oh, and the hickey on your neck.”
Janis reached for her neck in shock. “Samatra! I cannot believe you are talking to your grandmother like this!”
Samatra erupted into laughter, watching her grandmother stare at her. Janis shifted uneasily, blushing in all shades of red. Her own granddaughter made her feel embarrassed for this outcry.
“People are starting to stare Samatra. What is so funny?”
“It was a little humor. Just pulling your leg.” Samatra retained herself, sniffing the last laugh. “What is his name?”
“No name.”
“When will I meet Mr. No Name?”
“When I am dead.”
“That will be quit a funeral.”
“Stop making death jokes and order something already.” Her grandmother shook her head before throwing one only and last smirk in Samatra’s direction.
♠ ♠ ♠
behold, a rare update in months!thanks for the comment blades! (: