v e r n o n
“I’m sorry.” I was still catching my breath when I got the chance to call Catherine.
I bet that she is cursing me now. Damn, I hate myself too. I got out of the storage room on Good Day and wiped my sweat.
Ju Hoo, the thirty-something-year-old owner, surprisingly accepted me as a part-timer again. It must be because he is short of staff. I can tell that by the number of tasks he had given the moment he hired me. First, I unloaded his truckload of stocks to the storage room, displayed some of them in the grocery stands, and manned the counter. It was when I was behind the cashier, and there were no customers around when I got the availability to call Catherine.
“I’m sorry." My guilt-stricken voice echoed in between my exasperated sigh.
c a t h e r i n e I pierced my eyes against him. Vernon kept the taunting look. He towered over me from his side of the counter, growing intimidating by the second. I was tongue-tied for a moment; whether due to his question or to his smoldering eyes, I could hardly tell. “Why would you say that?” I blurted out, trying to sound offended although I am nothing but uncomfortable under his gaze. His intense autumn eyes that were now the sharpness of razors, lingered at me longer until he took them off with a nod. “Nothing.” “Why would you say that?” I urged. He then raised a stare, now with the stoic expression. The concealing look has resurfaced. “It’s just..” He clenched his jaw.
c a t h e r i n e “Go ahead.” Vernon casually urged, oblivious of my nervousness. “Well..” I inhaled briefly, mustering my courage. “Why did you do that? Why did you claim the rumors that you..” My words halted when I caught a familiar built outside the convenience store. My mind went completely blank along with the rise of panic in my chest. From a nearby alley walked Jackson with his friends. I stared intently and I couldn’t be mistaken. My eyes are not lying to me. Growing larger by the second is my boyfriend dressed in all black, with a cigarette perched between his studded lips, and a cocky grin plastered for his mates. They were quickly approaching the store. “Fuck, it’s Jackson.” I left my seat and dashed into t
v e r n o n “The other days, it was just the girl. Now, it’s a whole squad. Are they your fans or something?” Joo Hoo was both amused and intrigued as he joined me behind the counter. Both of our eyes darted at the small group from a particular table. Catherine was joined by my friends, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Mark. They had been sitting there for a while, watching me with a grin like I am some sort of a spectacle. “It’s a weekend so they paid a visit,” I replied to Joo Hoo, my eyes squinting at Mingyu who’s now laughing with Catherine. “That girl, is she your girlfriend?” “No. She’s a friend.” On other days, I would have loathed Joo Hoo’s nosiness. Before, I have always been blatan
c a t h e r i n e It took me later than usual to arrive in the convenience store the next Monday because of Jackson’s sudden whims. After class, he insisted on spending time with me. He took me to his apartment, which without my knowledge is flooded by his group of friends—some faces I don't even know. Not that it was a bad thing. I don’t mind being around his friends but when I start getting out of place, I can’t help but lose interest. To cut the story short, he was enraged as usual because I had to leave early. “I told you, I need to study,” I explained exhaustedly. “This is the only time I’m asking for you!” “Yes and here I am but look, I feel invisible. You only ever talked with your friends like I’m some decoration in the corner.”
v e r n o n The final week of my suspension came to an end. All those days were spent without talking to Catherine. She didn’t try to reach out after our last meeting so I figured I must have offended her with my rudeness. Although that was never my intention, I did not try to make it up to her. It feels like our acquaintance was only driven by the never-ending returning of the favor. Since she has done so much in helping me with our school work, perhaps, she has no plans of seeing me again—given that she’s no longer indebted. “I would have prepared a welcome if I knew you’re returning to class today!” Mingyu was overly enthusiastic as he fetched me in the hallway. Except for Mingyu, everything else drew me in a sour mood. The noisy hallways had never been my cup o
c a t h e r i n e The Archive’s doorknob turned open and next was the silent creak of the door widening until it revealed Vernon. I frantically wiped away my tears as I felt him walk towards me. “It’s all fine now, seriously. You can leave.” I dismissed him soon as he got closer. But what did I expect? He heard nothing of it and slumped down on the floor beside me instead. To my surprise, he was carrying a first aid kit. I ignored the tug at my heartstring driven by that small gesture. “What is that?” I asked the obvious. “Yeah, uh, I dashed to the clinic before going here. I stole this.” He raised the kit proudly. I looked at him incredulously.
c a t h e r i n e “Sylvia, I said I don’t want to!” I cried helplessly. The woman before me, Sylvia, looked as equally distressed as I am. Her wrinkled forehead scrunched up, making her desperation evident behind the well-blended make-up. She paced back and forth in the narrow room. Her hand kept landing on her wide hips back to her forehead, all in sync with her exasperated sighs. Along with her pace was the bounce of her luscious mane that is now dyed dark blonde. She had the sexiness of a Latina woman which she had so often taken to her advantage. To my estimate, she’s in her fifties but nevertheless, displays the sophistication of a 30-year old. Only that her false youth seems to leave her sometimes, especially in stressful situations like this. “Cariño.” In her mell
v e r n o n After helping her heal her self-harm wounds in the library, Catherine went back to giving me the cold shoulder. I don’t know what I did wrong. I didn’t even ask her about what triggered her panic attack or self-harm tendencies because I respected her boundaries. I only offered help. Yet after that, she became aloof again that I couldn’t help calculating my past actions. Our last conversation would so often ring in my ears. “I’ll ask for it if I need it.” She bid coldly before leaving me in the library. Since then, we never interacted again for almost a week. I have been skipping most of my classes, like usual. Most days I could not make it to class because I’m too stoned to function. B