Hedonia

“Do you like Alya?”

My best friend and I were studying together at an anti-cafe across the street from our high school, and we were right in the middle of a practice paper when he dropped that question right in the middle of our teas.

My answer came out easier than I expected. “No.” I had to add a chuckle too, as if even entertaining the possibility was ridiculous.

“You sure? ‘Cause I know you’ve been talking quite a lot since school started. You seemed pretty close.”

“We’re friends.”

I was a little too assertive with that statement, a little too defensive. In truth, I didn’t know how I felt about Alya, or why I was so categoric about denying anything between us.

She wasn’t the prettiest in class, but she was plenty pretty: all a freckled smile and dirty blonde curls. Her eyes were a light brown, and whenever I stared into them when we hugged goodbye at her subway stop, I could see in them the depth of a millennia old amber. It should go without saying that she was an affectionate girl. I didn’t know a single person in our class who disliked her, or that she disliked in turn. And she had the cutest tic too. Whenever she was thinking hard about something, she would jut her chin forward and crack open her lips, at which point she looked completely captured in whatever it was she was trying to figure out.

“Cool, then that settles it,” my friend said, returning to his calculus like he didn’t owe me an explanation. It took me a great deal of glaring at him from the corner of my eye for him to finally get the memo. “Oh, right. I was going to ask her out.”

There came a moment’s pause, the gears in my head turning with an almost audible click. “Do you like her?”

“Well, a little? I’m not sure, to be honest.”

“And you think asking her out is gonna help you make up your mind?”

“Isn’t that the point of a date?”

I’d later come to find out that it was indeed, but at that moment in time, I found his wishy-washiness off-putting and his certainty condescending. To me, a date had always been a way to confirm what two people had already been hinting at for a while now. You would go to a cafe, or a park, or a bar – my country was a little loose about underage drinking – and the whole thing would end with a kiss. It had to end with a kiss.

And the thought of him kissing Alya opened up a pit in my stomach. I downed my peppermint tea to soothe my nausea. Despite the steam wafting off it, it was a welcome comfort.

* * *

“Hey, you’re Leon’s best friend, right?”

Alya and I were sitting behind the gym, her puffing a cigarette whilst I was nursing my five-hours-of-sleep headache with a lukewarm can of energy drink.

“I think so, yeah.” We’ve been sharing the same desk since our freshman year, done countless group projects together and even went to each other’s houses. But even if I considered him my best friend, I’d never asked him if that consideration was mutual. After all, he was a social butterfly, while I was more of a recluse. That we were compatible enough to be convivial with one another had always surprised me.

“Good. ‘cause… I think I might have a crush on him.”

“Oh, really?” There was an artificial note to my joy, nearing the threshold where my still-pubescent voice would crack. I was glad that Alya didn’t notice anything strange, or if she did, she politely paid it no mind.

“Yeah, I mean. He and I went shopping with a couple mutual friends. We ended up talking a lot, and well, he’s nice and cute. Did you know he plays bass?”

“Mhm.”

There was a pause. She took another drag, I took another sip. Somewhere far, the basketball hoops swished and the school’s security guard blew his whistle to break up a fight. I looked up ahead. We were well into October and the weather was still balmy, so the trees had started turning yellow without losing their leaves. But everyone knew they would be shedding soon.

“Why did you tell me all of this?” I asked, the words bulging in my throat as if they were too thick to get out without a bit of discomfort. This time, Alya did notice, and her brow furrowed for a moment before it lifted, her face now bright and innocent.

“Well, you’re my friend, and Leon makes me happy. I just wanted to let you know, that’s all.”

Friend. A loner like me would’ve leapt ten feet in the air upon hearing a girl like Alya describing me with such care and closeness. But now, that word wrapped around my heart like a net catching fish by the gills. I felt my breath stick in my throat for a moment, that same sinking feeling from when Leon had confessed his intentions to me returning with redoubled intensity.

“I see. Thanks.” I tried a smile, but all I could manage was a cold grimace, like a clown that grins with a wide mouth and hollow eyes.

“No worries,” she said. “Now let’s get going. You know how that old hag gets if we’re not in class a minute early.”

* * *

It took Alya and Leon a couple more weeks to tie the knot, and I was there for almost every moment of the leadup to the grand finale. Whilst we still spoke a lot, both at school and over text, it always felt like our chats were often shallow and short-lived, save for when they were trying to get me to listen to how they gushed about one another.

I wouldn’t say I was quick to get tired of it, since that word would fail to capture the full breadth of what I was feeling. Though I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt back then. They were both my friends and their happiness should’ve been mine. And whilst that was true, there was also a bitterness looming over my head like an executioner brandishing an axe, that eclipsed whatever joy I could derive from theirs.

Thankfully, I would soon have a couple things of my own to share with them. Back then, I’d met another girl, Susie. She and I had been assigned to take care of and guide the same group of international students that had come to compete in a contest our school was hosting. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t the hardest thing ever: it was more of a chore, which we had to do for eight hours at a time with little to no break.

She and I had grown closer with the tried and true method of commiserating. It was a good thing the foreign delegation didn’t know a lick of our language - we were free to talk amongst ourselves and chuckle whilst they could only throw confused gazes our way, or laugh along if they were uncomfortable enough. Though as I learnt more and more about her, about how she lived in a villa outside the city, the gifts she got for her birthday, the keen interest she had in language, journalism and psychology alike, I realised one thing: she was way out of my league.

That didn’t stop me from growing infatuated with her. It also didn’t stop both Leon and Alya to push me to talk to her after the contest had ended. He even gave me her phone number, and whilst I had saved it, I had never texted her once. I couldn’t bring myself to, even though by that point I had convinced myself that I wanted nothing more than for me and her to be together.

There was something hovering in the back of my mind every time I glanced over her contact, a quiet shadow that judged me without words. In a way, it felt like trying to get closer to her was a slight on something, and a betrayal on another, but both those emotions were too shapeless and blurry to make out, let alone interpret. Needless to say, I kept my distance, restricting myself to glancing somewhat-longingly across the hallway at her classroom door, quietly hoping that she’d notice me and strike up a conversation.

God knows I would never do that on my own. I was too scared, though much like everything else, my fear didn’t have a clear direction either.

At least not until one Saturday evening, when I received a text from Leon: a picture of him and Alya making out. That was the first night I ever cried myself to sleep.

* * *

The following months passed in the blink of an eye, and whilst I don’t remember too well – or too fondly – I still have a perfect recollection of the cooling friendships between Alya, Leon and I.

At first, I didn’t think their relationship affected me. They were my friends, I told myself, and I should’ve been happy for them. But whenever I saw them in each other’s arms, catching each other’s gaze and holding it like a breath underwater, I felt like I was drowning in a pool of venom. It was easy enough to look elsewhere, but somehow I felt my attention magnetically drawn to them no matter how hard I tried busying myself. The sorrow was almost like a drug.

Slowly, Leon and Alya started talking to me less and less. It was a natural consequence of their relationship, I thought. I didn’t want to think I was ever a focal point of any of their lives, but in the case I was, I’d obviously been replaced. Before long, I stopped reaching out either. Our interactions had become little more than what ordinary classmates would talk about: coursework, lesson notes, the odd group hang-out invite that would end up politely declined – the three of us didn’t exactly gel with our respective friend groups.

As Christmas passed, the new year rolled over us and school opened up after the winter’s edge had dulled, it had become increasingly difficult to deal with my loneliness. I had never been the most personable individual, and my high grades and bookish demeanour stapled the ‘geek’ label on my chest like a yellow star. That I was on speaking terms with a couple classmates was impressive enough, but apart from Leon and Alya, I wasn’t all that close to anyone. And with the two of them as they were, I was now left as far away from everyone as one could’ve been back then.

At least until I received a text from Leon. “Hey ___, wanna go ice skating this weekend?”

I cringed a little at the message. Leon was a head taller than me and twice as wide. Seeing him on skates would’ve been like seeing a moose trying to do ballet. “Ice skating? What’s gotten into you?”

“I mean, we haven’t really hung out in a while and I thought it’d be fun. Alya will be there too.”

Ah, so that was it. Whatever hope welled up inside me when I first saw his message drained out in a moment, replaced with a chilling emptiness. “So it’ll be just the three of us?”

“Yeah! What do you say?”

I typed a couple replies back then, all a different flavour of yes, from mildly excited to cautiously neutral. But as soon as I imagined all of us on the rink, the two of them holding hands and pace, whilst I struggled along on my own, my answer changed. “I think I’ll pass, sorry. I think you and Alya would have more fun without me.”

I saw the three dots flashing for a good while until Leon eventually sent me an, “Ok.” I didn’t hear from him for a week after that.

* * *

With midterm season upon us, and my home a barren wasteland due to the building’s poor heating system, early February found me haunting the anti-cafe on my own almost every day after school. It wasn’t a bad deal. For the price of two loaves of bread I could spend an entire afternoon in one of the cosiest places in the city.

I was wrapping up a mock essay when my music stopped and, through the ensuing silence, I heard the bell above the door ring. My eyes flitted towards the entrance on instinct. Leon and Alya, their cheeks the same ruddy hue, came in, wiped their feet on the mat, then headed to the till.

Right away, I hunched over the table, burying my head behind the thickest textbook I had at my disposal. But it was too little, too late. Two pairs of footsteps clacked through the blaring rock playing on my headphones.

“___?” Alya said. “Huh, what a coincidence. Are you here to study too?”

“Hi.” I craned my neck their way, looking at the narrow space between them. “Yeah.”

“Sweet! Mind if we join you? I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we could use our help.”

I bit my lip. Whilst every fiber in my body was screaming at me to refuse, there was no way I could say no to her face. Right away, my mind jumped to rationalise the situation: it was a functional meeting, rather than a friendly hangout. So long as we kept everything to the subject at hand, it would all be good.

“Sure,” I said, shuffling my things to one side to make room for them. Alya slid on the sofa opposite me, whilst Leon took off his coat and set it on his seat.

“Be right back,” he said, “ I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

In his absence, Alya made herself comfortable, rolling up her sweater’s sleeves and ordering a hot chocolate on the app. Delicately, she pulled out her notebook as well as a problem set - Maths was her weakest subject - but rather than making a start on the derivatives that almost made her fail last semester, she shot me a quizzical glance instead.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she answered, and that was all she said before Leon returned. With Alya’s beverage and his tea arriving right after, I delved back into the realm of late 19th century literature, and the two of them followed suit with their respective problem areas.

It was an uneventful session for the first half hour. But for the odd elbow nudge and question flung my way, the two of them behaved not unlike they did before they got together. It was a comforting sight to behold, were it not for the understanding that they were together casting all of their interactions in a gloating glow.

At one point, Leon’s phone started ringing. “Sorry, it’s my mum,” he excused himself, before stepping outside, leaving Alya and I on our own once more. Much like she had up until now, I expected Alya to carry on working without too much of a distraction. But it wasn’t even one minute into Leon’s conversation that she tapped the paper I was writing on and gestured for me to take off my headphones.

“What now?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, only this time she didn’t stop there. “I guess it’s just been a while since we last spoke.”

“You texted me literally two days ago to ask for help with some code.”

“Yeah, and when I followed that up with a ‘how are you’, you told me you were fine and left it at that. So yeah, it’s been a while since we last spoke properly.”

“What do you want from me, Alya?”

“I just want to talk!” she said, a little too loudly and whiny. “You’re always reading during breaks, we don’t go home together, and we aren’t even texting anymore. I guess – well, I missed you, ___”

I grit my teeth. I missed you. Three words squirming under my skin like worms burrowing for shelter. But once they found their way to my heart, they bit into it with a burning hunger that shot my pulse up to its boiling point.

“Heh.” Though it was meant to be a chuckle, it came out as a sarcastic scoff. “I wonder what Leon would have to say about that.”

“What?”

“Y’know, missing me and all.”

“I still don’t follow.”

“Well, for the past couple of months, it felt like you two have been on a perpetual honeymoon. And now you’re telling me you’ve been wanting to spend time with me all along?”

A shadow passed over Alya’s face. “Well, yeah. You’re my friend.”

“And now, you’ve got a boyfriend. I get that he may not be able to help with homework and stuff like that, but on the hanging out and talking side of things? I don’t see why you’d need me for. Just spend time with him.”

“I –” I couldn’t tell if she was on the verge of tears or simply speechless. But seeing how it didn’t take her long to find her voice after the fact, I assumed the former. “Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time? That just because he and I were dating, I no longer had room in my life for friends?”

“I don’t want to be your friend, Alya,” I continued, my throat suddenly dry, my tone brimming with menace. “It’s not like you’ve been suffering without me. Someone like you is better without the likes of me orbiting around her.”

It was now her turn to scoff. But far from caustic, she sounded annoyed. Disappointed. “I like you, ___. I enjoy your company. Or enjoyed, I guess. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I might as well not bother.”

“Good,” I spat back, bile foaming on my tongue, though there was no anger coursing through my veins. I didn’t know if there ever had been any. For once I’d begun gathering my things under her disenchanted watch, all I could feel was a constant tremor that made my every movement staggered and sluggish. “I won’t bother either, then. Have a nice day.”

In the corner of my eye, I could swear I spotted her reaching out as if to stop me. But I was too quick, and too set in my ways that I didn’t even think about slowing down. When I got outside, Leon was still on the phone. He lobbed a surprised look my way, which I didn’t bother returning, then a confused wave, which I didn’t return either.

I didn’t want to stop even for a second, afraid that he’d see the tears streaking down my cheeks. When I got home that evening, I blocked both of their numbers. For three months after that, we hadn’t spoken a single word.

* * *

Seven years later, on one of my ever rarer trips to my home country, I decided to swing by the places I used to frequent as a dumb teenager. When I got to where the anti-cafe used to be, I found it replaced with a chain coffee shop. Despite myself, I decided to go in. Summers had always been torrid where I hailed from and they had only gotten worse over time.

I ordered a cup of peppermint tea and sat in my usual spot, the booth now a two-person coffee table with barely enough room to accommodate both my elbows. The quiet I’d been accustomed to had now been replaced with a constant din, through which a woman searching through a loosely-bound printout rang the loudest. And it was perhaps the discomfort, or perhaps the frantic shuffling of papers that took me back to the last time I’d ever been to this place, as well as what happened after.

Leon and Alya broke up a little into our second-to-last year. Shortly thereafter, he started dating her girl best friend, whilst she got together with another of our classmates - a guitarist. Though I ended up patching things up with the two of them, my absence hadn’t been without consequences. Where I was their tight-knit confidante before I’d separated from them all, I could only ever reach the fringes of their friend group, if even that.

Once we graduated, we all went our separate ways, and once I emigrated, I lost contact with them, along with everyone else from our class. The way I acted, the way I thought, it would all remain buried in the past, remembered only by me on the rare occasion that I needed to be haunted by my poor and narrow-minded choices.

Because I had liked Alya back then, and I would continue liking her for a while longer, even after we’d cut all ties. But even to this day, though I suspected she’d learnt it since, I was yet to admit it to her. Because I’d always found it easier to run from the little hurts, than it was to face them head on. And once the truth of my cowardice became too much to bear, rather than clawing myself out, I found greater comfort in digging myself deeper in, the wounds a welcome hamartia.

“Madam?” The barista snapped her fingers at me, dragging my consciousness back into the here and now. I lifted my elbows off the table, and she set down an empty porcelain cup in front of me, along with a heavy teapot.

“Thank you,” I said, and as soon as she left, I filled up the cup and took it to my lips. My nose curled in disgust. It was cold and tasteless.