Good Ideas

"I do not... want a boyfriend!" I exclaimed, looking at myself in the floor-length mirror. I did not plan on dating a dude this year. I thought to myself, every year so far, not a single person has liked me. That was while I was trying too. This year, it will be on purpose. God. I saw my gorgeous, gorgeous friends score shy glances and love notes without even trying. It's not that I was jealous, I was just a little surprised to see that's how it's gonna be for me.

My ever-changing hair had randomly curled over the summer, as the waves in my hair bounced over my shoulder. My parents always said my thick, Filipino hair was a lot like my aunts' and cousins', so I should do my best to take care of it.

I clutched my gray school bag tightly and twirled my head to the side. I never thought I was pretty, but the sunlight shining through my bedroom room window managed to to make me smile. I looked a little too long and a delusion cowered over me like a dark cloud. My nose was half my face, my eyes were reduced to my little Asian slits, and my skin was discolored. I shook my head and left my gaze on my outfit, which was composed of a plain white tee, a black, oversized jacket, and dark blue shorts. My mom wasn't obsessed with planning my outfits, but she did buy everything I had in my closet. She bought me the closet too. I just had to wear it.

"Breakfast!" My dad called. I heard him walking out the kitchen door that had been previously closed. Probably to block out fumes of I don't know what.

I sat down on my pink IKEA bed sheets and sighed. Mornings like this I couldn't afford to eat. My stomach was churning and it felt like I couldn't get enough air in my windpipe. It's not that I didn't want to eat breakfast, but today was the first day of school. Questions boarded my train of thought and circulated around like evil gossip. I only have one friend in class, what's gonna happen? Who are these new teachers? Will I be able to stay single? I started laughing at the thought of finding someone. This year? Now? Really?

"Breakfast, Nicky. Breakfast! Wake up!" Although it was only 7 in the morning, the Filipino accent shined through my tired dad's attempt to get me to wake up and eat. Recently, my parents had started to try harder with their breakfast meals. We never had the talk on why, but I think they understood. Or didn't. I don't know. It just got annoying sometimes.

Finally, I walked out of my room and out to the table. My mom was sitting to the right of my chair as she swiped up and down on her phone, sipping her black coffee. You could see the dark circles under her matted concealer. Her thin, cocoa brown hair was pushed behind her ears and her cocoa brown eyes focused on a CNN article. A sharp sting of guilt stabbed my stomach as I set my school bag on the chair adjacent to me and sat down. There was a placemat for me and my dad, both with empty, colorful ringed plates and a fork, with nothing laid in front of my mom.

My dad brought out two plates with two grilled cheese sandwiches on top. I smiled sweetly as he placed it in front of me and offered a thank you.

"Anak, today's the first day of school! How do you feel?" My mom exclaimed placing her phone next to her.

"I'm nervous but excited," I replied, watching the cheese in my sandwich bubble up and pop. Nice. I was in fact nervous but excited for my 2nd year of highschool. Being a 10th grader just makes it so... official. It makes life feel so permanent yet so temporary, like nothing is going to change but everything will at the same time. If that makes sense.

I bit my lip, staring at the bubbling plate of sandwich in front of me. I had a habit of getting away with no breakfast, but today I felt like they wouldn't let me leave the apartment without something in my stomach. Hastily, I clutched the sandwich with one hand and took a bite. The hot cheddar bled onto my tongue and I was quick to swallow my bite.

My mom quickly got up fron her seat and rushed to the bedroom. I looked up from my plate to the clock in the living room as it read 7:19. Shoot.

"I don't have time to finish this, I'm sorry," I said, but it came out as a whisper because of my morning voice. My dad nodded and grabbed my plate from across the table.

"I'll put it in a bag for you," He mumbled, and placed his glance back on his phone. I didn’t think much about it, it was just one of those days.

Quickly, I got up and rushed to the bathroom and gazed thoughtfully at my face through the bathroom mirror. I’m gonna be okay, won’t I? I’m gonna be okay?