Taking Out The Trash______________________________
My idea of a good time isn't washing dishes, especially when it comes to the glasses. Sticking your hand into a hard round opening always spells trouble. It's like trying to get your stepsister out of the washing machine — no good comes of it.
Five minutes later, I wiped my hands on the apron and trudged back toward my room. But on the way, I spotted Lilly lounging on the couch, biting into a slice of bread smeared with jam. She was wearing an oversized white hoodie, one of those with edgy slogans like *"Kill me, I'll kill you twice"* printed across the chest. The afternoon sun was blaring through the windows, bright enough to burn retinas, yet there she was, wrapped up like it was the dead of winter. To make things stranger, the air conditioner was blasting Arctic winds, making the whole setup seem even more absurd.
Her eyes met mine. "You finished the dishes?" she asked, her tone as dry as the bread she was chewing. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. Afternoon news? What kind of a teenager watches the news at this time?
I tried fishing for a bit of appreciation. "No 'thank you?'"
She barely glanced at me, the bread still hanging from her lips. "Take out the trash."
I headed back to my room before she could add any more chores to the list. Trash can wait. It's not like it's going to sprout legs and run away. Then again, seeing Lilly watching the afternoon news did make the world feel strange enough for something like that to happen.
I pulled out my phone. A new message from Sohee was waiting:
**Sunbae, I'm visiting Mei again today.**
I typed back a quick *good luck*, and in return, she sent me a smiley face. Classic Sohee. It was like she was trying to charm me through text, or maybe she was just bad at using emojis. She really should hang out with Carrie more. Get a little less formal. *Fr.*
Lately, Sohee had been playing detective, visiting Mei to figure out why she stopped coming to the after-school lessons. Apparently, Mei was always dedicated to her studies — or so Sohee claimed. Yet, she wouldn't spill the details and kept pushing me to ask Mei myself. Some best friend behavior that was. *It's not my place to tell you,* she'd say. What a noble, utterly useless bond of friendship.
I tossed my phone aside, realizing I was doing nothing. Being nothing. Thinking nothing.
Maybe it was time to take out the trash after all.
I grabbed the bags from the kitchen, Lilly's room, and the bathroom. Lilly was already in the entryway, tying up her sneakers. My sneakers.
"Pretty sure those are mine," I pointed out.
She groaned, "Borrowing. It's not like you're going anywhere."
She was right. But I couldn't help but notice how oversized they looked on her feet. "They don't even fit you."
She tugged at the laces, ignoring me. "I need something sturdy in case a serial killer shows up."
I rolled my eyes. "You're exaggerating."
"No," she shot back, her gaze more judgmental than usual. "Maybe if you actually watched the news, you'd know."
I shook my head, not bothering to argue. I'd rather waste time on the internet than watch some celebrity scandal unfold on live TV.
With a final *tch* of disapproval, she slammed the door behind her.
I sighed and opened it again. Might as well throw the trash out.
The hallway was empty, and Lilly was nowhere to be seen. She must have either sprinted or teleported, because when I hit the elevator button, it opened immediately. No sign of her.
Maybe she took the stairs. Hardworking girl. Unlike me, who opted for the elevator. Effort was overrated.
The elevator dropped me at the ground floor. Have I mentioned this place is more of a luxury hotel than an apartment complex? The floors shimmered like gold, a monument to the previous tenant's wealth. It's strange to think I live here now, surrounded by such finery. Technically, I have money. But money can't save me from this absurdity I call life. Or convince Life and Death to leave me alone, for that matter.
I shuffled outside, greeted by the blinding sun. I hated the sun. Sweat sucked. I dumped the trash in the bin, noticing a girl standing next to me, pinching her nose. Typical. She probably thought I didn't mind the smell. Truth is, I didn't care. Trash felt familiar. It suited me. Like garbage that should've been discarded a long time ago but kept lingering.
"Sunbae?" came a timid voice.
Sohee stood there, looking wide-eyed and out of place in her school uniform. It was Saturday, yet she wore the whole ensemble, right down to her school bag. She pinched her nose, the other hand holding a green plastic bag.
I eyed the bag suspiciously. "What's that you're holding?"
Her shoulders slumped. "Is that really your first question?"
I shrugged. "Curiosity, I guess."
She sighed, then lifted the bag. "It's an empty coffee can. Bought it on the way here."
"So it's just trash now?"
She nodded but didn't throw it away. Instead, she stood there awkwardly, still holding the bag.
I raised an eyebrow. "Waiting for it to recycle itself?"
"It's for recycling," she said, almost defensively.
Of course, recycling. Some people cling to the idea of saving the planet, preserving life, keeping everything *working.* It's noble, I guess, but delusional. When the earth explodes, none of this is going to matter. Recycled or not, it all ends up the same way.
"What kind of coffee was it?" I asked, not really caring.
She looked exasperated. "Can we not talk here? The smell is killing me."
We moved to the entrance of the Sunshine Apartments, where she finally stashed her recycling in her bag.
I pointed at her uniform. "You know it's Saturday, right?"
She fidgeted, covering herself with her arms like she was embarrassed. "I know. But it feels more appropriate. I'm here on school business, after all."
Right. *School business.* Probably visiting Mei again.
"So, how's Mei doing?" I asked, feeling the need to at least pretend to care.
Sohee's eyes flickered, but she didn't answer right away. Whatever Mei's issue was, it wasn't something Sohee was willing to share. Some things, I suppose, are too complicated for even recycling.