Chapter 4: The Weight of Waiting

School, usually the kind of place that drags on forever -the kind that leaves you stiff from sitting too long —

Felt like it ended in minutes.

[ Our school lasted for about 8 hours. Each subject an hour long, even if most teachers didn't bother showing up. ]

[ And no matter what, we had to stay until the schedule said we could leave.. ]

I didn't care about any of that today. I just wanted to go home. To help my mother in the kitchen, to make sure everything was ready for tonight.

And, like always, I had to walk home with her. That cold, distant ■■■?■■ of mine.

The thought of inviting her lingered in my mind. It always did.

But rejection stings.

And I didn't know if I could handle that today.

I couldn't just hand her a piece of my heart, hoping she'd hold it carefully instead of dropping it like it was nothing.

[ I wanted to believe she wouldn't. ]

That maybe this time would be different.

But hope is dangerous.

Because when it breaks, it never shatters quietly.

—————————————————————

I got home to the smell of garlic sizzling in oil, the sound of knives hitting the cutting board, and the sight of my mom rushing from one end of the kitchen to the other.

She had been cooking for hours.

Even my dad had come home early, standing beside her, peeling potatoes like his life depended on it.

It was rare for him leaving work before the sky turned dark.

And it felt... nice.

The laughter and hurried footsteps, the clatter of pans, my mom calling out instructions while my dad grumbled about how he was peeling them too slow, apparently.

For once, there was no rush to leave. No silence. No tension.

[ And the house felt... AL■VE. ]

Just the three of us, in a kitchen that smelled like home.

And I wanted to be part of it.

[ ….. ]

But the more I thought about it, the more I hesitated.

[ I kinda sucked at this. ]

Cooking? I'd burn something.

Setting the table? I'd probably drop a plate.

Decorating? I'd make it worse.

I almost walked away. Almost convincing myself I'd just be in the way.

[ ..... ]

But still… I wanted to try.

Even if I was slow, even if I didn't know what I was doing, I wanted to be part of this.

So, I rolled up my sleeves and asked, "Momm, what do you need me to doo?"

She handed me a knife and a pile of onions, and I swear, within seconds, my eyes were burning.

——————————————————

The clock hit five.

An hour left before guests would start to arrive.

Of course, some things didn't went according to plan.

The birthday cake? Still not here.

Half the dishes? Still uncooked.

The guest tables? Not even set up yet.

My mom was moving even faster now, flipping between stirring, chopping, and answering calls.

My dad was outside, dragging chairs and muttering to himself about why we always did this last minute.

It should've stressed me out.

It should've made me anxious, the way everything was barely holding together.

But I didn't care.

Because the cupcakes had arrived.

They sat neatly in a box, tiny and perfect, with swirls of pink and purple frosting and little silver sprinkles on top.

Chocolate and vanilla mixed together, the way I liked.

For some reason, looking at them made me feel lighter.

Like- maybe.... just maybe — even if everything else wasn't going perfectly… something still was.

——————————————————

An hour passed.

I found myself glancing at the clock more times than I wanted to admit.

Would she be late?

Would she come early, too impatient to wait?

No… probably not.

If there was one thing I knew about [ Jane ], it was that she was always right on time.

Never rushing. Never dragging her feet.

Not the kind of person to show up too soon, buzzing with excitement.

Not the kind to arrive late, making an entrance.

Just in between.

Like she had it all figured out, like time bent to her, not the other way around.

And so, I waited, completely sure that the doorbell would ring exactly at 7:00.

[ … ]

Or maybe... things might change.

————————————————————

Guests trickled in, one by one, then all at once.

Voices filled the air, overlapping in a steady hum, laughter bubbling up between conversations.

It was warm.

The kind of warmth that came from too many people packed into one space, from the chatter, from the shared familiarity of being here TOGETHER.

The house could barely contain them all.

Most of them drifted outside, where rows of tables stretched across the yard, red cloth draped over the wooden tables, fluttering slightly in the evening breeze.

The round tables each had exactly four chairs, small and intimate, while the longer tables held more, meant to accommodate more bigger families, with plates nearly touching as they passed food between them.

And it looked… perfect.

Exactly the way it should be.

And yet —

I found myself scanning the faces, searching for someone.

For her.

But Jane wasn't here. Not yet.

[ It's still too early. ]

————————————————

Another hour passed.

The house was starting to fill with people, and the air was thick with noise and laughter.

The night was creeping in, the sky slowly turning darker as the moon made its quiet entrance.

But despite all the noise around me, I couldn't shake the thought.

"She still hasn't come," I whispered to myself, my eyes scanning the gates, my mind running in circles.

Would she come? Or would she just... forget?

I was trying not to care, but I couldn't help it.

Lost in my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket, the sudden vibration pulling me back to reality.

Ding!

A message from [ Jane ].

> Heyy, I forgot to ask you where your house is... I'm in the road where you told me to get off to- where should I go next?

Typing...

[ Me ] : Ohh!! I'll meet you there, just stay were you are.

[ Me ] : where*

> Okayy.

[ < Jane > ]

I closed my phone.

————————————————————

Walking through the same alley, I tried to look for the cat again, even though I knew deep down, it probably wouldn't be there.

But still, I checked - just in case.

I paused, hoping I'd catch a glimpse of its familiar little figure.

Nothing.

The alley was quiet, just like before.

[ Empty. ]

I stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence.

The cat wasn't coming back. It wasn't going to show up, not now.

But now, without it there, something inside me felt… missing.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to keep moving.

I had to focus. I had to get to [ Jane. ]

I didn't want to disappoint her. I didn't want to disappoint anyone, especially not a f■iend.

My heart was pounding louder than my feet hitting the ground. I was running, breathless, like the world was racing ahead of me and I couldn't keep up.

But all I could think about was reaching her.

Reaching her before it was [ too l■te. ]