Chapter 2

Now that she's back in the atmosphere

With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey

She acts like summer and walks like rain

Reminds me that there's a time to change, hey, hey~

I'd been spending the day in my room, just sitting in the bed, learning to play the song over and over again. It didn't matter how tedious this was, I never played guitar before, as long as I enjoy playing the songs she liked. These songs reminded me of her, of her voice, and on how she used to sing along to each song off-key. Just by thinking of those moments spent with her was enough to make me smile.

Somebody knocked at my bedroom door. I glanced over my shoulder and saw my sister peeking, the door was ajar; she was standing outside, not crossing the line separating my room from the outside. That was when I realized, I forgot to lock myself inside this four-cornered wall today.

Smiling, she greeted me with a hi, "Just in case you are interested, lunch is served." she added.

I looked around for a clock, there was one placed atop the table on the right side of my room. The egg-shaped clock displayed the time, it was already half-past noon. And I lost track of time, we hadn't eaten breakfast yet.

"I'll go down in a while," I announced, not meeting her gaze.

I was checking the chord I played before she arrived.

She heaved a sigh and stepped into the room, "So, last I checked, you are not the type of person who stays in your room all day, alone, with a guitar and phone. What happened to Aspen?"

I did not retort to her statement, instead, I packed the clutter on my bed, put the guitar back on its bag, and kept my phone and earphones in the small drawer where the clock was perched.

She stood there, eyes roving around the room, arms were folded across her chest. I reckoned she hadn't been here after a long time.

Things were the same in my room, an old bed draped with a clean, white sheet and a couple of pillows, a study table with few books laid atop, and a closet with Ashley's drawing (she used a permanent marker) when she was eight, a pirate that looked just like a boat, on one side; walls painted with midnight blue, no posters pasted on it. In place of band posters and wallpapers, two of her self-made paintings decorated my bedroom wall: the flag of Guatemala and El Salvador; she was into arts and dreamed of painting every flag in the world on a canvas.

There was a bedside lamp that had been with me since my nineteenth birthday, her present for me, it was joined by a picture of me and her; we were so happy back then.

Impassively, I asked her, "Want to clean my room?"

She ignored my query. Her gaze roaming around my room. Just like my mother who used to tell me that a gentleman knew how to maintain a clean bedroom.

"Ashley, the last I checked, you are not the type of sister who pays too much attention to whatever her older brother does and the things inside his room. What's with the sudden change?"

As I walked past her and looked over my shoulder to witness her reaction. She followed me out of the room, gazing focused on me. The way she was eyeing me, I bet she was already pissed off.

"Aspen?" she asked while walking towards me, "you are using that on me?" she went on.

She stood beside me. I just shook my head and grinned. She rolled her eyes.

"Are you trying to be the frustrated musician mom wanted to be when she was young? Or are you practicing for a serenading?"

I ignored her question, and instead of answering, I thought of something that would rather piss her off again.

"Hey, what's that thing on your feet?" I asked, looking down at her feet to make the act convincing.

She did the same. While she was checking what was on her toes, I ran away, to the kitchen faster than I ever did before.

"Prank you, Ashley!"

I yelled as a sat down on my favorite spot in our dining area. Smiling to myself, I noticed that the table was empty. No setup, no plates, no food. Confused, I decided to go back and talk to Ashley.

But before I could move from my spot, she was already at the foot of the stairs. She was grinning at me this time.

"Prank you, Aspen. Two can play at this game," she said, finally having herself seated on the chair next to me.

"You said lunch was ready. There's no food in here," I complained.

Grinning, she replied, "It's Saturday. Wake up, Aspen. You're supposed to cook for me," she pointed out.

Then I remembered that every weekend our parents were not home. Dad was on an official trip, as part of his work, and Mom had gone to our grandparents' house to check on them. Being the older sibling, cooking for Ashley was assigned to me. Part of my duty was to look after her. She was in charge of preparing dinner every Sunday, and the rest of our meal during the weekends was up to me.

"All right. Give me thirty minutes to prepare, princess."

I ransacked the kitchen cabinets, took whatever I thought was needed for cooking, and checked the refrigerator to see if there was leftover to preheat.

While doing those things, Ashley was carefully watching my every move.

Sarcastically, she uttered. "Thirty minutes for burnt eggs and, what else surprise you have under your sleeve today?"

"Try to make a guess," I rapped.

"You better be a good cook or no one would want to say I do to you, brother."

I looked at Ashley, hands on her waist; she was smiling. The good thing about her when she was livid, you wouldn't even notice it unless she started to speak. The tone of her voice would give you the feeling of being pointed at by an invisible shotgun. However, the look on her face, that angelic face, that wouldn't give off a hint of her true emotions.

I stopped getting the stuff I'd decided to use and glanced back at her. "Doll up," I told her.

Bemused, she asked, "What? Why?"

"We're going out."

Even though she seemed clueless, she did not protest, instead, she obeyed without asking more questions. She headed into her room. I went back to mine to get the car keys and my phone. Put on a shirt and jeans, the usual attire whenever I go out. There was no one to impress, the casual outfit would suffice. As soon as I got out of my room, I texted a friend and asked if he was free for lunch today. It was kind of late, nonetheless, he responded right away. He suggested we could go over to his place instead of eating somewhere else with him. It would be an honor to cook for your sister, was his mediocre reply. I could picture his broad smile while composing that message. He was determined to win my little sister's heart. Too bad someone got the upper hand now.

Ashley found me sitting on the couch with the phone in hand. Dressed in a black shirt with a shut-up print in front and cutoff shorts, she was ready to rule the world. She sat in the lounge opposite mine.

Putting her shoes on, she began, "Don't tell me we're going to Andrea's."

Andrea owned a restaurant near my workplace. Ashley insisted that I should date so I could get over my ex-girlfriend. Three months of seeing each other didn't turn out perfectly fine; we decided to close the matter between us.

I dismissed the idea of going to Andrea's.

Astonished, she remarked, "Woah. That's news. Won't see her for the rest of my life?"

I was scrolling through my phone, checking for some old pictures that must be deleted. I often did this to kill time especially when there was a girl who'd taken forever tying her shoelaces.

Curiously, she asked while momentarily looking at me before finishing up with her shoelaces, "Did you just officially break ties? No phone calls or house visits?"

"Phone calls are okay,"

"Yeah, sure. Look at you. Still alone," she said, completely done with her shoes. "because you can't accept that your role in her life ceased. I mean, wake up Aspen, it's been two years since...you know, since that incident. It's been four months since you started seeing someone new. Then all I would hear was that you decided to call it off? Was it because of her again?"

The question did not need a definite answer because she already knew the reason just by looking at me. Andrea was not to blame for the unsuccessful relationship we had; I didn't resent her at all, it was all my fault. I couldn't give her the rest of my life, my time, because most of my days were spent at work. Andrea was able to manage all well. She had been good to me. We were two different puzzle pieces; we could not finish the incomplete puzzle because one of us didn't belong to the picture. She was somebody's missing piece, not mine. Gladly enough she didn't detest me for our failed commitment.

I rose from my seat, "There are roles you just can't play in someone else's life," I announced.

"Truce?"

But she looked the other way.

"Not now, Ash. We need to eat first."

I walked out of the house.

ʘ