Alicia woke up with a slip of paper in her hands. She did not know how it got there, or what it was. Her mother nagged at her to wake up, stating for the third time that she was already two hours late for school. That was her fault. Alicia, though wide awake since the first nag, kept her eyes closed.
Her mother barged into her room and flicked the light on. The sting made for the perfect alarm clock. She dragged herself out of bed and changed into her uniform. When her mother came to tie her hair, she swatted the wrinkled hand away and did it herself. As a final touch, she left her breakfast half-eaten.
There were two bus routes to school. The short one which required her to cross the overhead bridge, or the long one requiring no crossing of any kind. Alicia took the longer route and continued sleeping on the bus.
Even in her sleep, she still remembered that word. ‘Anymore’. The sheer panic on her mother’s face hit the final nail in the coffin.
Dad wasn’t the junkie. She was. She didn’t marry a junkie, he did. He didn’t abandon her, she did. Her mother told the story with their roles reversed to paint herself the heroine. Just to preach morals she didn’t follow (Such as respecting privacy). Just to use Dad as a punching bag. Just to upset and stress her out.
What else did she lie about?
Alicia then remembered the slip of paper still clasped in her hand. Drenched in palm sweat. Her fist blossomed open, making its fatigue known. She shook it a few times and cracked every knuckle one by one.
Thumb. A business card. A number written under the slogan: Life is Better at Motel 91! Pointer. She remembered where it came from; Dania. Middle finger. A second number scribbled over the first. Was that Dania’s number? The motel’s? Child services? Ring finger. She folded it in half and slipped it in the plastic wrap of her maths textbook. Her mother will never find it there. Pinkie finger.
She tried dozing off again. Still no phone. Still behind on coursework. Still failing her exams. She couldn’t sleep.
The teachers delivered more exam threats. The June holidays were approaching. And after; their prelims. And after that; doomsday. The countdown begins now.
Mr Lee expected everyone to have their interview slots booked, which led to today’s lesson: preparing the interview questions, followed by a quick refresher on the topic on Carbo-hydrates, since everyone got that question wrong.
Even Vinn had his interview booked, because he had a rapport with the Malay vendor and played soccer with them once.
The only other student without an interview was the one who didn’t care. Kat was more concerned about the new update on Cyber-Strikers. Alicia ignored it until she heard news of the Sniper getting nerfed.
Minty was even cuter than last time. His tongue dangled out the side of his mouth, flailing up and down as he jumped. His tail whipped madly as Kat hugged him. Kat revealed the girly side of her, which seemed out-of-character to Alicia.
Then it was her turn. Minty leapt up and placed his paws as high as he could reach; on her stomach. She flinched back. What was that?
“Don’t worry, he’s just excited to see you!” A third voice said, who passed the leash to Kat.
“Bye Dad!”
Her Dad. Alicia tensed up, committing as much of the man as possible to memory. His office suit, tie, beard. How his first instinct upon meeting his daughter was to hug, even if Kat was unwilling. How he—a parent—discussed Cyber-Strikers with Kat. How he came to her for a handshake.
Oh! Handshake! Alicia snapped back to reality. “Your suit looks nice.”
He asked for her name. She gave it. Some strands of his hair was greying. “You play Cyber-Strikers?”
“Sometimes. Do you?”
She nodded. “What is your favourite class?”
“Sniper.”
“Me too!” She flapped her hands behind her back.
“Bye Dad! Bye Dad! Bye Dad!” Kat whined over and over.
“Okay, okay…” He chuckled, “Help me hang up your painting when you get home.”
“Water Stephanie using the watering can, not a cup!”
He flashed a thumbs up, took the leash back, and drove off.
When was the last time her mother hugged her? Or her Dad?
“Sorry, that was my dad.” Kat shuddered. “Let’s go.”
She continued flapping her hands, lying that Minty triggered it.
They beat Campaign mode today, sort of. Halfway through her run, Alicia got her avatar flung into a wall, which somehow transported her inside it, where the enemies couldn’t reach her. Yet, she could still shoot them. This anomaly brought her to victory.
Kat protested in mock outrage, criticising her for cheating and taking shortcuts. Though she agreed, Alicia still taunted Kat with her high-score. They laughed and screamed until their throats were dry, then replenished it with soda, and continued screaming.
She should be home by now to do her chores, homework, and revision. But she didn’t care. Whenever her mother came to mind, she shook it out of her head like one shook water out of their ears.
It was evening when Kat’s power bank died, and their stomachs rumbled. Her mother was driving home right now. Kat asked if she had money for dinner. Shuffling through her wallet, Alicia only found the canteen vouchers the school offered because she was poor. Feeling Kat’s eyes, she quickly hid them away.
“No. I don’t have money.”
“Oh, okay. Then I’ll just borrow you.”
“I can’t repay you afterwards.”
“Nah, you don’t have to.”
“What?”
Kat passed her a ten-dollar note. Crimson red and plastic-y to the touch. She slotted it in her wallet with precise care to cover up the vouchers.
Her mother always said that any money borrowed must be repaid in—Alicia didn’t care.
“What do you want for dinner?”
Tacos! There was a taco place she had her eye on for months, which held five-star reviews and looked too expensive for her to afford. But maybe not to Kat.
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But who would wanna eat tacos? It’ll just make Kat think there was something wrong with her. But who cares what her mother said?
“Tacos!” she forced herself to say, then braced for judgement.
“Kay. Where?”
Huh? “Uh—Can I search for its location on your phone?”
“Kay.”
Twenty-two minutes by train along the red line. Forty minutes by bus, with three transfers. Two hours by walking.
“Which one is the taco? Is it the one like a sandwich, or the one in a wrap?” They walked to the train station.
““No, that’s a burrito…” Alicia clarified, sharing all she had learnt from the rabbit hole. She explained the differences between a taco, a burrito, and a quesadilla. Where they came from, what ingredients they used, and their variations across different cultures. as well as the pros and cons of using a hard shell versus a soft shell.
Kat didn’t cut her off, or asked her to stop, or get upset. She even had follow-up questions! Air became weightless. Effortless and rejuvenating to breathe. It was like taking her school bag off after carrying it for an entire day.
She went onto the different theories about the taco’s source of origin, and gave her opinion on which she found more wholesome, and how she yearns to cook one for her and her friends one day, and the exact recipe she would use when that day comes, and the recipe she would use for her coursework practical (which she altered to fit the nutritional requirements).
Wait. She shook herself awake past the MRT gantry. She’s at the train station, going up the lift, about to take the train. The tube of metallic death. Oh no.
One arrived.
Kat, the normal human being she was, joined the queue to board it. She, the weirdo, sat paralyzed on the bench.
“Let’s take the bus instead! It’s faster.”
“What? No, it’s not! And we need to transfer like three times. Fuck that.”
The announcement blared over the speakers. The beeping showed the closing doors. The crowd squeezed themselves into the tube of Death, and it took off. Alicia let go of a tightly held breath.
“We missed it! What the hell?” Kat gave her that look.
She knew it. Grow up already, weirdo. Alicia read the poster on the bench, suggesting she gave her seat up for the elderly and disabled. There goes her one and only friend.
“What’s wrong?” Kat raised a brow.
Alicia. Alicia was wrong. That’s why her mother threw her to the junkies with no hesitation. It had nothing to do with her dark past as a drug dealer. That was nothing but an excuse to protect her own feelings.
Whilst she wallowed, Kat played detective and tried to pry the truth out of her.
“Is it too loud?” Kat asked.
Spot on. She looked up.
“Don’t you have headphones?”
She shook her head. Her mother claimed it damaged her hearing.
“What? Then just lower the volume? Duh!”
“I’m sorry. You can go eat tacos without me.” That hurt to say.
“Just tell me next time, dumbass!” Kat unzipped her bag and passed her a pair of neon pink headphones. “Here, you can borrow mine.”
She stayed motionless. Kat took it as instruction to place it on for her. The device beeped to life and created magic.
Everything was softer. Her jaw dropped. The world became a library. She took it off, then on, then off, then on again. Noisy, peaceful, chaos, peaceful. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Can you go on the train now?”
She nodded sheepishly.
“Ok, then let’s go. I’m gonna die of starvation!” Kat huffed, and dragged her on the tube of death.
With these on, it was more apt to call it the tube of irritation. Yes, it still screamed at her, but at least it didn’t make her deaf (or make her wish she was deaf).
With Kat by her side, it was unlikely she’d get lost again. Last time, her mother refused to ride with her to cultivate independence, then refused to drive her home. She only offered to be her GPS. Kat guided her to an empty seat, whilst she sat on the priority seat herself.
“That’s the priority seat.”
“I’m technically disabled.”
Kat laughed. Alicia didn’t get it.
The restaurant looked more expensive in person. One glance at the menu told her it was impossible to eat here. If her mother ever saw it, she would have a heart attack. She mourned the loss and scanned the area for cheaper options.
“Yo, this looks good!” Kat walked in with brazen confidence.
“It’s too expensive. I forgot to check the prices before we came here. Sorry.”
“Huh? No, it’s fine.”
It was?
The chairs were a sofa. With a cushion. With a backrest. They gave complimentary water. Free water. The menu was a booklet with multiple pages. They would then say their orders to a waiter and wait for their food without ever needing to leave their seats and reserving it with a tissue packet. There was music in the background, art on the walls, and air-conditioner.
Kat could afford this?
She ordered the chicken taco, whilst Kat ordered the fish taco plus a side of nachos.
“How much pocket money do you get?”
“A hundred dollars a month.”
“What!” she gasped. Millionaire!
“I mean, I probably have to skip recess next week to make up for this dinner, but whatever.”
“But you can’t skip meals, you’ll get skinny!”
“Good, ha-ha. I’m fat.”
“You are?” She observed Kat’s figure. Sure, it was big and round, but fat sounded like an overstatement.
“Yeah, no shit.”
Hold on. How could Kat be sitting here at this hour? “Did your parents allow you to go out for dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“They allow you to do that?”
“Yeah. Your parents don’t?”
Parent, she corrected internally, and shook her head. Her mother must be fuming, calling her repeatedly. But the joke’s on her, since she was the one who confiscated her phone. “But I don’t care.”
“What? I—Ah, whatever. Sure.”
They drank their waters in silence. Kat got on her phone. Alicia continued to flap her hands as she admired the place. The table was tessellated, as were some walls and lamps which hung overhead. She flicked her glass with her fingernail and listened to its soft echo.
The nachos came first, topped with chicken and tomato cubes everywhere. Essentially, unwrapped tacos mashed together. She took a chip, dipped it in salsa, and bit.
Fireworks of flavour exploded in her mouth. The kick of spice, sourness of lime, juiciness of tomatoes, and the chewy chicken. She flapped her hands, while Kat slapped hers on the table. Both girls nodded their heads eagerly.
They jammed chip after chip into their mouth. The salt made them thirsty, which they quenched with more salty goodness, creating a never-ending cycle. This thirst tickled as much as it satisfied.
More, more, more.
Kat took a photo and posted it on social media.
The main course arrived. On a needlessly large plate, three tacos leaned against each other like a pyramid. The fireworks continued, now topped with grilled chicken. It was impossible, but the taco had now dethroned wanton noodles.
More, more, more.
The sides were ironically a bigger serving than their mains, and had just enough to satisfy them both. While Kat paid by the counter, Alicia stacked the plates and cups together for the waiters. Afterwards, she melted into her cushion chair, and exhaled in relief.
They purposely took their own sweet time finishing their waters before leaving. On the train, they bounced up and down reminiscing about the slice of heaven they just ate. Kat made a promise to herself to learn a recipe for those, which she was more than eager to help with.
“Once you get your phone back, maybe we can call some time, I dunno,” Kat said.
Only friends called each other.
“By the way, thanks. It’s the first time I got to eat with someone who doesn’t judge my stimming.”
“What?” Steam?
“You know… This.” Kat slapped the chair to demonstrate. “Thanks for not being a bitch about that.”
“Ok.”
“Can I get real with you for a second?”
“Okay…?” Was she not real before?
“I have autism.”
Alicia waited in silence at first, then realised Kat’s moment of realness had already ended.
“What is that?”
“It’s like—It just means like—How do I explain it… It just means like I’m… different. But like not in a bad way. But then some people find it weird and stuff. And like, I struggle with other stuff, but you get the point. Right?”
Different, but not in a bad way. What a pleasant phrase.
“Just like me!” She flapped her hands to demonstrate.
“Alicia… Genuine question, okay?”
Was she not genuine before?
“Are you also autistic?”
“What?” The news came like a bucket of ice water. “No. Of course not.”
“Have you been tested? Or did any research into this?”
“No.”
“Hm… okay. Well, maybe try doing that? See what you think? I just have a gut feeling, since I have it.”
“Okay?”
She arrived home with the widest smile on her face, so wide even her mother’s screaming and nagging couldn’t wipe it off. But her mother didn’t do any of that. No one asked if she had dinner. No one asked if she did her homework. No one knocked on her door.
About time, she thought, and started researching what Kat talked about. Down another rabbit hole.