When the weekday came around, all anyone wanted to discuss was the bombing, which was not something I wanted to occupy my mind any more than it already did. We didn’t have terrorism at this scale, not until I came into the picture.
Perhaps it was guilt from knowing that, because for the first time in a long while, New Singapura didn’t have their scaly vigilante doing parkour at night. The Salamander was busy crying herself to sleep and cleaning snot from her nose.
Assembly talks about safety and vigilance were in full force from spokesmen from the police force, most of which I know no one actively paid attention to. I could tell a lot of teachers were stressed and tired, probably from dealing with an influx of parents calling about their child’s safety, or to cancel excursions or performances, anything that takes them away from the safety of school.
“I’m so glad you two are okay.” Ms Tnee said with a faint smile when she spotted Zhen Rong and I in assembly. It broke my heart to see Ms Tnee with bags under her eyes heavier than usual, with her normal pep in her step gone and replaced by unenthusiastic dragging of her feet. It was the first time Zhen Rong or I had ever struggled to hear her.
There was a mass break in the morning. No one was in the mood to learn about macroeconomics right now. While the attack was over the weekend, it was like nothing our tiny country had ever gone through. There’s a strange wind that blows between certain people, like someone should be filling up that space. And it makes sense: that beach cleanup wasn’t just something our little group did. It was a very common, safe, and fun way to rack up those community service points.
If I wasn’t at the beach,today would be uneventful. I put my hand to my mouth as I gagged, as if that would stop the vomit from coming out. I hastened my walk down the stairs to the canteen, no longer wanting to perceive the world. As I descended, I could feel thousands of eyes staring at me, heads turning sharply when I walked by. What did they know?
Everyone had a sinister gleam in their eyes I couldn’t shake, like they were secretly plotting my downfall every time they looked in my general direction. Whether those malicious looks were in my head or not, they sowed the seeds of distrust. I walked past everyone with shifting eyes, scanning heat signatures to be as aware as possible of everyone around me.
A hand placed itself on my back. Instinctively, I swung the body forward effortlessly, revealing my far larger friend whom Rose should have had no busy throwing around that easily. With a yelp, their hand grabbed onto the handrail, feet shuffling to adjust themselves.
“Woah. Hey, easy, you okay? I’m sorry, you’re probably really shaken. Are you okay?” Ashen asked, clearly caught off guard from being tossed like a rag-doll. He raised his hands in a mock surrender, a womanising smile growing on his face. He looks weary, despite being the only one of our little group to not be at the beach. I suppose if you knew your best friends almost died, you would also be a tad bit out of it.
“Yeah, sorry… yeah, thanks for checking… good thing you didn’t come with us huh?” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Ashen didn’t even check in on us via text.
“It was insane, man. I was out with Sheris, didn’t even realise it was happening. Once I did, I dare not call you guys or message. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I got no response.” I couldn’t read his expression. It was grim and yet not serious.
“Ahaha, well, uh, yeah, we’re okay, no issue there! Hope your date went well at least?”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t a date! Sheris just wanted to eat lunch with someone and I just so happened to be free! Nothing really between us, unlike you and a certain track and fielder…”
“And whoever could you mean?” The conversation is so mundane, I almost forget the crushing weight in the air. I’m not sure how many more fun conversations I have left in the world, so I smile through this one. I mentally sigh a moment of relief, if he was out on a date then he couldn’t have been the culprit.
The Caucasian laughed and didn’t elaborate immediately, giving me a wink as we headed to meet up with everyone.
“If you don’t tell that boy, someone else’ll scoop him up. Lots of people know me as ‘Zhen Rong’s friend’. He's quite the catch!” He said it with a semblance of sadistic pleasure, like he wanted to shock a rat to see how it’d respond.
“Times are pretty crazy, even got me reflectin’.” He said, speeding up to match my pace. “Like, what if those explosions happened where Sheris and I were? I mean you guys were unlucky enough to be caught in the action, what if it were me instead? Or the guys from basketball? Or, and I’m really hoping it’s these guys, my parents?” He rubbed his cheek, darkly chuckling at the last thought. I didn't know what to say, so I kept quiet. But I dwelled on the words. What would have happened if the first bombsite was even slightly different. Which combination of kids wouldn't be at school right now?
“Yeah… I wondered what would have happened if Zhen Rong or Carrie got caught…. Or if I wasn’t in the toilet at the time… or if the Salamander Man didn’t show up… could have been horrible.” I vocalised my thoughts out loud, sprinkling some lies at the end. I’m still Rose right now, as much as I wish I wasn’t.
“Right? Isn’t it just insane how short life could be… you gotta treasure every moment. Like uh, Caesar didn’t know he was gonna be stabbed!” He looked at me with a gleam of mischief in his eye. “Or that he was gonna be stabbed by someone he thought was a friend.” He said that last part softly, like the voice of someone in a dream.
“I mean you can ask Zhen Rong or Carissa, they saw him. He wasn’t the culprit.” I replied defensively, imposing my own subtext on him. My voice was shakier than I intended it to be. It wouldn’t take much more to gaslight me into thinking I really was at fault. Part of me did think it was my fault. Both Sol and I knew deep down the attack only occurred because of us.
We kept silent until we got to the canteen. The air was ominous, the wind that normally carried the voices of others was empty. Had the ceiling fans always whirred so loudly? Zhen Rong and Carissa mumbled something at our usual table, not wanting to break the dark atmosphere. Despite that, Zhen Rong had a smile plastered on his face, likely breaking up the tension with some gallows humour. A light curve of Carissa’s lips set my heart at ease.
“Yo, you two! Shit’s wild, huh.” Zhen Rong asked, smile never dissipating. He glued it on so we couldn’t see his heart, and that told me enough. I frowned, unable to provide any comfort if he wouldn’t admit to needing it. Anxiety devouring her, I watched Carrie fidget with her necklace uncontrollably as if an earthquake was shaking it. Zhen Rong didn’t wear that smile for him, he wore it for her.
“Everyone’s really scared. My parents almost didn’t let me come to school today…” Carissa said as the two of us took our seats next to our respective best friends. My arm went around Carissa, giving her whatever little comfort I could. Her facial expression didn’t change, she turned to look at me with an accusatory stare. At least, that was the meaning I assigned to it.
Meanwhile, Zhen Rong wouldn’t stop staring at Ashen’s face. He leaned in and touched his cheek, causing the larger boy to wince.
“Your dad did it again?” He asked. The two of us looked up and closely, seeing a faint bruise that was easy to miss. It had clearly healed over two days. Ashen grinned and affirmed it. He leaned into his hand, staring at me closely as he did so. Carissa leaned in to see the bruise, not knowing what to say.
“Yeah,” Ashen said, covering up a snicker. I don’t think anyone else at the table heard it. His hand lightly grazed the bruise. “He gets all pissed when the chemicals go missing. Top that off with me skimping out on ‘family time’ for a date. You know how it is.”
“Sorry, Ashen.” I pitifully mustered, to which he gently shook his head. Every time we have this conversation, I get a hit of déjà vu.
“Can’t believe that dude’s a teacher.” Zhen Rong eyed the chemistry notes in his box files, sadness dominating his face. “The other day he screamed at all of us because two kids forgot homework. Not even their fault eh, both students were in band, they have rehearsals till 9, where got time do work? Your dad’s a bit psycho, man.” Ashen let out a chuckle, apologising on behalf of his father in hushed tones. It seemed forced.
Carissa adjusted her necklace, scratching her head and bouncing her feet. “I’m sure he means well…” she defended half-heartedly, not daring to look at any of us.
“No, Carissa, he doesn’t.” Zhen Rong and I simultaneously answered.
“Whatever man. I’m not the son he wants. I know that. All I ever do is disappoint him or I’m never enough. Hell, I could do nothing and he’d be mad at me just for fun. Someday I’ll do something amazing, or something amazingly disappointing, just to piss him off more.” This time he snickered audibly, as if he had an amazing inside joke none of us got.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“If the Salamander wants to blow anyone up, I’ll give him my address.”
“Ashen!” I yelled, a bit too defensively. A few heads beyond our table turned to look at us. I hunched inwards, glaring at him indignantly. A thousand eyes' piercing gaze poked at me.
“What? That thing probably did it. He’s a prime suspect. But if he wants to do the world a net positive, kill my dad. If he kills my dad, I’d plead guilty to get his ass off scot free. Kill my mum too and I’ll even plead guilty to the beach bombs.”
Disdain dripped from his voice like a dagger coated with poison.
“He wouldn’t.”
“I know. I’m just kidding. Obviously.” It was not obvious. The poison dripped into the pores of everyone at the table, paralysing us. My breathing deepened.
“Uh, I’ve… got a class. You have one too, right?” Carissa nudged at him, causing Ashen to ‘ah’ as if remembering his own commitments. The two of them picked up their stuff and walked away, Ashen laughing as Carissa said something to him. Panic contorted her face. Zhen Rong, somehow, ignored the terrifying atmosphere clouded us all as he waved them off with a grin. I was not that strong (or weak) and resigned to a microscopic wave. The back of my neck burned up.
‘Hypothesis: He is our suspect.’ Sol spoke matter-of-factly.
‘We don’t know that for sure. He- he’s our friend, he might still be innocent.”
I can’t pretend he’s not acting strange. But when it’s your friend guilty of something, you want to believe anything else. That it could be someone else. That the whole situation weighs on him like it does everyone else. His chortles echo as I replay the explosions in my head.
‘Rose.’
‘I wanna- believe that he wouldn’t. Like, okay he’s not the sanest guy, but with what he goes through I get that! Like, we can leap tall buildings in a single bound, but we shouldn’t leap to conclusions right?’ I joked, though he didn’t seem to get the humour in it.
‘There is plenty of reason to suspect him. It’s not that far of a logical leap.’
‘How would he have those bombs? And he was busy that day, he couldn't have! How would he know it’s me? And why would he attack somewhere where his other friends are? If he wants to hurt the Salamander, why also hurt his best friend? Why not go after someone like my family?’ There were inconsistencies, maybe it really wasn't him.
But we both knew better. Truthfully, Ashen had fully morphed into something grotesque in our collective thoughts.
'Maybe we don't know him as well as you think you do.’ Sol said gently, as if delivering a foul prophecy.
The thoughts swarmed me until I saw Nisha’s tears fall onto the sand again. I can smell the burning of skin again, the taste of smoke that stung my eyes repeating again and again. Superhero? My body wants to give out, my mind is soon to shatter. What kind of superhero can’t make save everyone, what kind of superhero lets their villain walk to class freely?
“Rosie? Hey, Rosie?” I return to Earth at the sound and sight of Zhen Rong snapping his fingers in front of me. I blush, not realising I’ve been zoning out from his point of view. Rubbing my eyes, I feel the back of my hand get damp.
“Something on your mind?” He asked, finishing the last bit of curry.
This is it. Alone with him. Like Ashen just told me: if I don’t say it now, when will I? What if someone scoops him up? What if I die in the next explosion attack (I’ve resigned myself to it happening again)? The grandfather clock in my living room ticks and tocks as I look at him, once again seeing the scarred faces of the people I saved.
He’s cute. Unblemished. He tilts his head to the side with the eyes of a puppy, and I’m helpless. I want to keep him that way. I want him. If I don’t have a lot of time left, if the next time the Salamander reveals themself is their final outing, I want to at least go down knowing he was by my side.
In my head, everything slows down. He blinks at a slower pace. Everyone’s walks turn into a crawl, as I dig through my mind for my pre-planned speech. If the Salamander could resolve to bring the scumbag to justice, Rose could resolve to confess her feelings for a boy.
“Zhen Rong, it’s been terrifying lately. Like, our lives could end tomorrow, levels of terrifying.” I begin, eyes looking everywhere but at him. My brain tried to distract itself with anything but the conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever realised how smooth the canteen tables are until today. Wow, that’s a lot of heat signatures in the room. Has the canteen always been this cramped?
“And, um, it’s gotten me to realise that… uh, I don’t, um…” There’s some mental push in my head, Sol’s doing. I can recognise that mental touch, like their webbed feet rub against my brain as if reading braille. They know what I think of and how to push me. Even with that, my words have gotten clogged in my throat.
“I still like you. I think. I’m not over you yet. I think. Or maybe I got something for you again. I don’t know. Yeah, like there’s not a lot of time and like- life is short and….” I still didn’t have the courage necessary to look up at him. I would never live down that shame. Was I sweating? I barely sweat anymore. I feel damp. There’s a snake constricting my neck. I can’t breathe.
“Zhen Rong, do you, uh, wanna go… um, out for lunch this weekend? Just the two of us? Uh, you know, like old times. I-it’s okay if you don’t wanna! I just wanna…. Ask, like you miss… all the shots you don’t take.” This is why I don't believe anyone would figure out I'm the horrifiying Salamander creature. Why would he, the abomination of man, act like a frazzled schoolgirl ever?
His eyes widened as if he didn’t hear me correctly and I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to continue rattling. “I-I sort of miss.. Uh, you. Like romantically. I don’t know. But yeah. If you wanna uh, try dates again and dating… I’d really like that too.” By this point I’m not even sure if I’m coherent anymore, I’m letting my heart take the wheel. But the more I ramble, the more I regret it. My heart is gonna crash into something. Zhen Rong’s eyes shift downwards, his fingers scratching his head. The salty smell of someone else’s noodles drifts in the air, and I try to focus on that sensation over his response.
“Um…” He begins, and I can’t predict what he’ll say. But most affirmations don’t begin with an unsure ‘um’.
I tightly grip onto the sides of the chair in anticipation. The pause in conversation paused time too. In an attempt to keep myself sane, I try to pay attention to anything else. The chirps of birds, the sound of the teacher five tables away comforting some students over the attack on the beach, the taste the smell of chicken rice has in the air. I give it all more attention than Zhen Rong. Anything to avoid thinking about what he’ll say next. I’m trying to will a sensory overload into existence. It’s not working.
In a moment of weakness, I look up, now acutely aware of how his eyes are deliberately looking away from mine. How his lips have gotten more dry since my word vomit, how his head is now looking downwards as opposed to at me. The longer time stays slowed, the longer I have to stay in agony, looking at him attempting to find the words to let me down gently, if it’s going to be gentle at all. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for the worst, but no amount of prep time could have readied me for this much anguish.
I remember our first date at a nearby food court where my dad’s bubble tea shop is. The place was crowded and the food was great, but I can barely even remember what I ordered or how many people were there. I only remember childish smiles and innocent laughs. When we left the food court, he offered me his hand to hold, and I was giddy with excitement.
His hand warm with blossoming love, I led him to my dad’s bubble tea, to share that familial love with him. I wanted him to be a part of my life in that way. He drank it with such fervour I could have sworn it was his first time. I remember being so reluctant to let go of that hand when we approached the stall; I wanted to scream to my dad that he was the love of my life. I remember being so in love I stayed up when I shouldn’t have, talking to him on the phone until I passed out. I remember running with him before I had Salamander stamina and him slowing down for me, planting a chilled isotonic drink bottle to my forehead.
It felt as if I didn’t get a ‘yes’ here, that cements those memories as nothing more than memories that I would have to cherish alone. Memories I won’t share on a wedding night, memories I won’t bring up to reminisce with him because it’d be too awkward. It would bury these memories forever.
I needed a yes because I needed to hang on to these memories. When the future is so unsure, all I have is the past.
I can’t know if today was the last day I’d see him or not. I might die as the Salamander, Rose’s corpse never found. Worst case, he might die just being associated with me. Mortality is a wonderful motivator when it rears its terrifying head.
I needed a win. A reason to keep fighting, something that tethers me to hope. Superheroes have love interests they fight for or they have great tragedies that define who they are and why they do what they do. Without Rose, the Salamander has nothing to fight for. They may as well be a professional acrobat instead of a hero. So just let Rose win this once.
It only took me finally confessing to realise how selfish and stupid that reasoning is. There is more than romance. It’s like making a chess move, only to realise you've blundered immediately. But the words are out and I can’t take that back.
By wanting romance, I might have closed the door on it.
HIs mouth slowly opens, and I ready myself for an answer.
“I need to get to class.” He lied. His class doesn’t start for another 10 minutes and he’s no stranger to being late. “We can, uh, talk about this later.”
He leaves and time returns to its usual flow, leaving me alone at the lunch table.
But maybe that’s how it should be, for everyone’s sake. I sighed and dunked my head onto the table, not sure how or what to feel.