Enjoy ≈☆≈
...
One week later.
"Taylor, come on, dinner's ready."
"Coming!"
Taylor was lying on his bed, fiddling with the small card between his fingers, staring at it absently, before getting out of bed, tossing it carelessly on the bedtable, and taking lazy steps outside his bedroom.
"I would wish I were ill every day if I knew you were going to spoil me in this manner." The elder spoke with a wide grin that split his mouth before moving the chair and taking a seat, his eyes following Steven as he brought the dish closer to him.
"I see you've gotten better." Steven smiled lightly as he sat down in the chair and looked at him out of the corner of his eye as he brought the glass of water to his lips, murmuring words Taylor couldn't hear. "I've had enough of your endless nagging and demands for the past week."
"Unfortunately..." The elder childishly stretched his lower lip before his lips touched the tip of the spoon, enjoying his warm soup.
"Delicious! There's no way you could have cooked it, Steven."
"No, it wasn't me; our old neighbor cooked it especially for you after she heard about your injury." Steven responded calmly as he ate his dish, then giggled at the other one, who nearly choked on his food.
Steven's smile rapidly disappeared as he looked wide-eyed at Taylor, who clenched his teeth in wrath and hit the back of his head with such power that Steven's face sank into the bowl of his soup.
"So you're the one who's been relaying the news to her, traveling radio!"
"Really, Taylor?" The youngest grumbled and quickly got out of the chair, heading for the sink to clean his face while screaming abuses at him.
...
"I'm going to college; do you need anything?"
Steven furrowed his eyebrows at the unusual silence, threw his bag back on the couch, and walked with heavy footsteps to his friend's bedroom.
"Taylor, did you go back to sleep or what?" Steven inquired quietly before peering out the half-open door to see the other sitting at the foot of the bed, busy putting on his socks and not paying attention to Steven, who raised his eyebrows and stared at Taylor's clothes, indicating that he was getting ready to go out.
Taylor flinched at Steven's abrupt screaming as he reprimanded him, throwing his arms around carelessly. "Where are you going? The doctor told you not to exert yourself and to stay at home for at least a week!"
Taylor sighed wearily and rose from the bed, walking toward Steven, who crossed his arms and glared at him.
He suddenly felt Taylor's fingertips rub against his cheek, followed by his calm voice and sarcastic words. "Steven, my dear, I'm going to look for a new job; do you want me to offer you my guts for dinner?"
Steven's tongue became paralyzed as he envisioned the image with a disgusted grimace, and he was startled when Taylor pushed him from his forehead and walked by him, ignoring him.
"Now get out of my way."
As Steven was about to leave the room, he was halted by a small card that caught his attention. He raised his eyebrows as he approached the bedside table to pick it up, bringing the card closer to his face and narrowing his eyes to read its contents.
"The Sun Cafe?"
"Taylor, where did you get this card?" Steven asked, prompting the older man to stop tying his shoes and raise his eyes to the thing Steven had brought close to his face.
"It was given to me by this girl named Catalina or Catherine or something like that."
"That's it; it's an invitation." Steven said, and Taylor gave out a sarcastic, light laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before continuing to tie his shoes.
"She's funny; she thinks she's on a date." He said as he stood up from the floor and took his light jacket from the door hook.
"Why don't you fulfill her simple request?"
Steven's sentence caused Taylor to stop putting on his jacket and give him a look that indicated he was about to punch him in the face.
"Why are you staring at me like that? I mean, she only wants to apologize for what occurred, so why not accept her invitation?"
He sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I don't have time for these things, and I've forgotten what happened, and it's over, so what does she want from me?"
Steven shrugged his shoulders, signifying that he couldn't answer. "I'm not sure, but I'd say yes if I were you."
Steven pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket and began writing Catherine's number on it. Taylor immediately snatched the card from his hand and attempted to do the same with his phone, yelling, "Don't call her, you idiot!"
"I will kill you if you do!" He yells, but Steven was stubborn, and he jumped on a couch in the hall to avoid Taylor, who has started following him and trying to stop him. "Give me your damn phone; don't pick your nose in my affairs!"
"Hello?"
A female voice caused the two of them to halt, and they both glanced at each other in silence until Steven, without hesitation, stated, "Hey, are you Catherine? I'm Taylor's friend, Steven. Do you remember me?"
"Oh, of course I do," she said, and a huge smile spread across his face. He turned his eyes to Taylor, who had an angry expression on his face.
Taylor walked to the door and grabbed his bag from the floor, about to open the door and leave, then he stopped and turned his head to Steven when he said, "He will meet you at the Sun Cafe at four o'clock in the evening. Does it suit you?"
"Yes, of course!"
"Good," he cut the line, and Taylor's bag landed on his face.
"Oh my god, that was hurt!" He cried in pain before hearing Taylor's screams, who rushed him and climbed onto his back, wrapping his arms around his neck from behind, attempting to choke him. "You like her, and you are using me to get closer to her, you asshole!"
"No, I am not!"
"Yes, you are!"
...
She jumped up from her chair and dashed over to the young man standing rigidly in the doorway, his eyes darting around the café, looking bewildered.
He stretched his bottom lip, rubbed the back of his head with that small card, and shrugged his shoulders before turning around—or rather, he didn't bother looking for her amid the crowd of customers.
"Young man, I'm here!"
Catherine's voice halted him, and he turned around to see her waving her arm to get his attention. She smiled gleefully as she paused in front of him and extended her hand to shake his, expecting him to reciprocate.
"Hello again, Taylor is your name, am I right?"
"You've got a good memory, girl." He smiled at her while shaking her hand and responding, causing her little smile to evolve into a bashful laugh.
"Your name is Catalina, right?" He went on, narrowing his eyes and attempting to remember her name, causing her to scowl and take her hand from his.
"You're close. My name is Catherine. It's not fair that I remember your name when you don't."
He put his hands on his waist and looked at her boredly. "We are not even friends, which means I don't have to remember your name, Catalina."
He was about to go when Catherine flinched and grabbed his arm, leading him to an empty table in the corner.
"Come on, let's sit here." She smiled and sat in the opposite chair, glancing at the young man who chose silence to fulfill her request.
She pursed her lips, tapped her fingertips on the table, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and gently tilted her head."Coffee?"
He raised his left eyebrow and gave her a playful smile, resting his elbow on the table and supporting his chin with his palm. "No thanks; I just want to admire your stunning features."
"What?"
His sentence caused the girl's cheeks to heat up. She patted her cheeks with her cold palms, trying to return their temperature to normal, staring at him with a frown after he let out a spontaneous laugh, making fun of her, realizing her weakness, and using it whenever he had the opportunity.
"Get straight to the point; what do you want?" He sighed and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
She rubbed her hands together nervously before taking a box from her backpack and placing it on the table in front of him. "Consider it a compensation for your cell phone."
He stayed silent for a moment, staring at the box blankly, before opening it, widening his eyes, and saying, as he held the phone in his hand, looking amazed, "Do you know how much this phone is worth?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "It's okay; it didn't cost me anything."
The man's jaw dropped, and he returned the cell phone to the table, pushing it with his index finger and slowly sliding it towards her. "I can't accept it; it's too much. My old phone isn't worth a penny compared to this. Go and feed the hungry instead of spending so much money on things like this."
"Can't he talk to me without embarrassing me every time?" She grumbled under her breath, rubbed her forehead, and bowed her head to avoid meeting his eyes.
She swiftly raised her head to look at him as he stood up from the chair to adjust his black jacket, and he spoke in an impatient tone. "So this is your surprise; I was just wasting my time."
He turned to face her and smiled sideways before taking a few steps closer to where she was seated and whispering as he bent half in front of her to bring his face closer to hers. "Idiot."
Just as he left, she took off her small camera from her black tee shirt and smiled, "Oh Taylor, you are a fortune."
She only used the phone as an excuse to meet him.
...
Dear brother, tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday, which I will celebrate for the thirteenth time without you. Every year when I blow out my candle, I wait for my only wish to come true, which is that you are beside me. Not a day goes by without me thinking about you. How do you look? Where do you live? What do you do for a living? Do you study, eat well, and so many more questions.
If you're wondering about me, I'm not doing well without you; I miss telling you about all my secrets; I remember you always listened attentively, even if they were silly baby secrets; I only brought this up to let you in on my little secret, but not with this letter; I'll tell you when we meet; take care of yourself until I return, your brother who loves you, Jack.
The eighteen-year-old pondered what he had written, threw the pen on the desk, and carelessly messed up his hair before folding up the paper and inserting it into a little bottle, corking it.
After turning off the desk lamp, he stood up and took a few steps outside his bedroom, tucking the bottle into the pocket of his loose-fitting jacket.
He stood on the soft sand, immersed in watching the darkness of the ocean. The waves had calmed down to reveal the moon's reflection on its surface, tickling the young man's features as the chilly breeze caressed his charcoal locks.
He sighed before removing the bottle from his pocket and taking a few quick steps back, bringing it to his lips to whisper. "Have a good trip."
He ran forward again and tossed the bottle hard, aiming for the farthest point it could reach, leaving the rest to the waves, which rushed in to submerge the bottle in their embrace.
...