I Guess I'll Never Get To Call You Mine
ALINE
Aline,
I'm sorry for all the things I said this morning. I swear I never meant any of it. If I did, it was because of my current unbearable situation taking its toll on me. Still, you’re right. I can’t live for the rest of my life ignoring you guys, but before I face the others, there’s something I want to talk to you about first. Do you remember that old corner shop where we used to go get ice cream after school everyday? Meet me there at midnight. I’ll be waiting for you.
Chuck
I crumpled up the piece of paper and shoved it in my pocket. I sighed. It’s nearly midnight now, and I’m waiting at Old Ben’s as instructed. Of course, the corner shop he mentioned wasn’t a corner shop anymore, and Old Ben has long passed away. His store is now a mechanic’s shop, and as I stared at the reflection in the shop’s window, I can almost picture a smiling seventeen-year-old, wearing a school uniform and her hair still in plaits, a skinny brown-haired boy laughing beside her. I can never really give up on Chuck, no matter how much his words hurt me during this morning’s fight.
Charles is different from all the guys I’ve met over the years, and trust me I’ve met a lot. He’s one of those few people I can totally be at ease with. Having been raised by an overprotective mother (they say she cried during my birth at finally having had a daughter) along with five outgoing and boisterous brothers, I’ve always been quiet and reserved tomboy as a child. Naturally, I was the target for a lot of bullies.
The other kids teased me for wearing glasses and braces, and for playing ball with the boys instead of stealing make-up from my mother’s drawers like the other girls. They picked on me on all sorts of insignificant reasons it was ridiculous. As a result, I became an outcast because I refused to dress up like a slutty whore and get drunk in bars. I was laughed at because I didn’t know how to put on eyeliner until my very late teens. I was bullied because I refused to believe that I was ‘overweight’ and starve myself like the so many anorexics in my class.
Chuck is one of the few people who’d appreciated me wholly for who I am. He doesn’t care if what I was wearing was in style, or if I was the only girl in the hockey team. He told me that I was his best friend ever and I’d basked in his attention.
It all changed, of course, when we both hit puberty and he started to pay more attention to other girls—girls whom we’d deemed as future bar strippers as all they do get hammered and waste all their money on cosmetics all the time. He’d start having girlfriends, and we’d spent less and less time together until he got dumped and came back to me.
I’d hated those girls who broke up with him. Chuck’s the sweetest guy on Earth. Why in the world would they refuse him? But I was there for him and all was forgotten until another pretty face walked by and he couldn’t help himself. Sometimes I wonder what he sees in those girls. He always seemed to go for tall, blond and the gorgeous, and surely he can see what empty airheads they are? They’re the type of people who’d mess around with him and broke his heart, but I’ve always stayed away while praying that one day he’ll see sense and realize that girls like that are an utter waste of his time. Judging from his rash marriage to Ashley, I should’ve interfered sooner.
Despite those setbacks (which happened more frequently than I liked), we still maintained that special bond I never shared with anyone else. Even when I moved away and we began our separate lives, and I eventually dated (yes, with Seb), I had this special feeling toward him that will never go away. I realize that now as I stand here waiting for him. Chuck is such a big part of my life it’s like a piece of him had embedded itself within me. I’m pretty sure that wherever I go, and whomever I end up with, no matter the circumstances, he will always be a part of me.
I checked my watch and realized with a surprise that it’s one thirty in the morning, and Chuck wasn’t here. I sighed and zipped up my coat. Looks like he’s not coming after all. After all this time I always thought you were a man of your word, pal. I stared at my reflection at the window again and frowned. There’s something queer about this place. I recall a vague memory of when we were kids, of some teasing involved, a light joke made by J.S. and Chuck had been so embarrassed. Gosh I must be losing my mind. “Au revoir, Charles,” I said to my reflection, and before I could stop myself, my tongue twisted itself to accommodate an old reflex, “Love you, bro.”
I began the long, lonely walk home, my mind registering numbly the ambulance and several police cars that passed by. There must be an accident somewhere, I thought reflexively, a car crash, maybe. I shook my head. Never mind, it’s none of my business. I should be getting home. It’s late, and I don’t want my brothers to worry. The last time I went home late (I got lost for Pete’s sake) they’d called 911. Now that is one memory I’d prefer not to dwell on.
I'm sorry for all the things I said this morning. I swear I never meant any of it. If I did, it was because of my current unbearable situation taking its toll on me. Still, you’re right. I can’t live for the rest of my life ignoring you guys, but before I face the others, there’s something I want to talk to you about first. Do you remember that old corner shop where we used to go get ice cream after school everyday? Meet me there at midnight. I’ll be waiting for you.
Chuck
I crumpled up the piece of paper and shoved it in my pocket. I sighed. It’s nearly midnight now, and I’m waiting at Old Ben’s as instructed. Of course, the corner shop he mentioned wasn’t a corner shop anymore, and Old Ben has long passed away. His store is now a mechanic’s shop, and as I stared at the reflection in the shop’s window, I can almost picture a smiling seventeen-year-old, wearing a school uniform and her hair still in plaits, a skinny brown-haired boy laughing beside her. I can never really give up on Chuck, no matter how much his words hurt me during this morning’s fight.
Charles is different from all the guys I’ve met over the years, and trust me I’ve met a lot. He’s one of those few people I can totally be at ease with. Having been raised by an overprotective mother (they say she cried during my birth at finally having had a daughter) along with five outgoing and boisterous brothers, I’ve always been quiet and reserved tomboy as a child. Naturally, I was the target for a lot of bullies.
The other kids teased me for wearing glasses and braces, and for playing ball with the boys instead of stealing make-up from my mother’s drawers like the other girls. They picked on me on all sorts of insignificant reasons it was ridiculous. As a result, I became an outcast because I refused to dress up like a slutty whore and get drunk in bars. I was laughed at because I didn’t know how to put on eyeliner until my very late teens. I was bullied because I refused to believe that I was ‘overweight’ and starve myself like the so many anorexics in my class.
Chuck is one of the few people who’d appreciated me wholly for who I am. He doesn’t care if what I was wearing was in style, or if I was the only girl in the hockey team. He told me that I was his best friend ever and I’d basked in his attention.
It all changed, of course, when we both hit puberty and he started to pay more attention to other girls—girls whom we’d deemed as future bar strippers as all they do get hammered and waste all their money on cosmetics all the time. He’d start having girlfriends, and we’d spent less and less time together until he got dumped and came back to me.
I’d hated those girls who broke up with him. Chuck’s the sweetest guy on Earth. Why in the world would they refuse him? But I was there for him and all was forgotten until another pretty face walked by and he couldn’t help himself. Sometimes I wonder what he sees in those girls. He always seemed to go for tall, blond and the gorgeous, and surely he can see what empty airheads they are? They’re the type of people who’d mess around with him and broke his heart, but I’ve always stayed away while praying that one day he’ll see sense and realize that girls like that are an utter waste of his time. Judging from his rash marriage to Ashley, I should’ve interfered sooner.
Despite those setbacks (which happened more frequently than I liked), we still maintained that special bond I never shared with anyone else. Even when I moved away and we began our separate lives, and I eventually dated (yes, with Seb), I had this special feeling toward him that will never go away. I realize that now as I stand here waiting for him. Chuck is such a big part of my life it’s like a piece of him had embedded itself within me. I’m pretty sure that wherever I go, and whomever I end up with, no matter the circumstances, he will always be a part of me.
I checked my watch and realized with a surprise that it’s one thirty in the morning, and Chuck wasn’t here. I sighed and zipped up my coat. Looks like he’s not coming after all. After all this time I always thought you were a man of your word, pal. I stared at my reflection at the window again and frowned. There’s something queer about this place. I recall a vague memory of when we were kids, of some teasing involved, a light joke made by J.S. and Chuck had been so embarrassed. Gosh I must be losing my mind. “Au revoir, Charles,” I said to my reflection, and before I could stop myself, my tongue twisted itself to accommodate an old reflex, “Love you, bro.”
I began the long, lonely walk home, my mind registering numbly the ambulance and several police cars that passed by. There must be an accident somewhere, I thought reflexively, a car crash, maybe. I shook my head. Never mind, it’s none of my business. I should be getting home. It’s late, and I don’t want my brothers to worry. The last time I went home late (I got lost for Pete’s sake) they’d called 911. Now that is one memory I’d prefer not to dwell on.