As soon as we arrived, I saw Justin from the previous night standing in front of the karaoke bar, so I excused myself to go greet him. Some curly haired douche side eyed me the entire time we talked. He better be glad it was me and not my sister, because she would have called him out. I just ignored him. I don’t give energy to sims and situations that don’t serve me. Apparently, Justin wasn’t attending the festival but waiting for a friend to do karaoke; he must really love that place. We talked for a few minutes, and then I went back to Maira.
She knew her way around so well; I wondered how many times she’d attended the festival. Probably a lot, seeing as she had a long list of lame fans in school. I bet they all brought her here, hoping the tea would do its thing so they could score. How unoriginal. I suppose the question then becomes how many times did their plans work, but that’s none of my business.
We visited the art show first and saw some really amazing pieces all done by local artists, according to the busker who was doing her best to make me empty my pockets. Supporting the arts sounded like a great cause, but I wasn’t much of an art person. In moments like those, I wished I could remember my gammy. The only reason I even knew she was an artist was because we had two of her paintings. They used to be in my room at the old house, so I could only assume she painted them for me. She used to be my favorite person. Maybe I meant a lot to her as well. Losing someone you love at such a young age is a strange experience. It’s kinda like having feelings for the avatar on an empty Social Bunny profile. No matter how hard you look at it and try to connect your feelings to a person, it’ll always only ever be a blank figure. We have pictures of my grandparents around the house, so I know what she looks like. But I have no clue what she was like and why I loved her so much.
Anyway…
I don’t know how, but Maira convinced me to paint a picture. Let me just say I did not inherit my grandmother’s skills. She was gracious, though, and encouraged me with only a bit of heckling.
“Hey, beautiful,” that curly haired weirdo said to Maira from out of nowhere.
Something happened to me I can’t really explain. I felt…I don’t know… Something like…panic? A shock ran through me, and I whipped my head toward her, asking if she knew that creep.
“He wishes!”
“I know you too,” curl fro said to me. “Well, I know your mama. How she doing? Tell Ki her first love said what’s up.”
He walked away, leaving me more uncomfortable than I’d ever been in my life. If he was a friend of Mama’s, that meant he was way too old to be hitting on Maira. How did he recognize me anyway? I know I look a lot like my dad, but I couldn’t imagine him hanging out with the likes of that llama faced dirt bag. And even though I knew Mama probably had boyfriends before she met my dad, I couldn’t picture her being with someone like that. Frankly, given the current circumstances, I didn’t want to imagine her with anyone, let alone some whack job who hollas at girls the same age as his kids, if he had anyway. Let’s hope not.
When I didn’t recover, Maira came over to comfort me. It didn’t help much, but I appreciated she cared enough to try. She took me to the garden since we hadn’t seen it yet. I thought about picking some snapdragons for Mama, but we probably weren’t supposed to touch the flowers.
“Let’s go have some tea,” she said as she led me in that direction. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Hmph. I was sure it would make me feel all kinds of things. Still, anything was better than what I felt. I recalled what Mama told me when we finally discussed my feelings about her cheating. She said it’s hard to believe your parents aren’t perfect, but it’s true. That helped at the time, but I guess I’m still learning how to accept it. All these things I keep learning about her… They keep trying to paint over the picture I have of her, and I don’t want that. But maybe I need to.
I poured a glass and raised it to my mouth, sniffing it before I took a sip. Maira laughed at me.
“It’s herbal,” she said. “It comes from flowers!”
That explained the pink color and floral smell. I took a small sip, inspecting it for traces of chemicals or hard juice, but found none. It was just a very aromatic tea, just like she said, so I took a proper sip. Within a few seconds, I felt as great as she said I would.
“See,” she said. “I told you you’d feel better. Let’s go over there and sit.”
She turned around and walked away, and I followed her. That tea had me noticing all kinds of things—mainly how good she looked from behind. It’s not that I never noticed before because I’m a dude who likes girls, and thought she was beautiful. But I try to be respectful and not objectify them like that ol’ curly haired freak. Still…I did not attempt to catch up to her; the view was too perfect.
We sat in an awkward silence for a beat. I didn’t want to say anything stupid, considering the war going on in my mind and body. But at the same time, I didn’t want her asking about my prior state, so I quickly thought of something dumb to say.
“So…this tea. It’s really good.”
“See! It’s harmless, right?”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
She really didn’t feel anything? How much of that stuff had she consumed to become immune? Maybe she’s just better at controlling her emotions. After all, she has way more experience than me. Or, she’s bluffing for my benefit. Either way, she either didn’t notice or ignored my non-committal response and talked about how much she loved the festival.
“It’s a celebration of love,” she said. “All kinds of love!”
I never thought of it that way. I always thought I needed a date to accompany me, but according to her theory, I could bring my family and friends to celebrate the love between us. Not sure if I’d ever do that, but she gave me something to think about.
I don’t know why, but my mind went back to when we first saw each other at the club.
“When I saw you at the club, you seemed upset. What happened to you?”
Don’t ask me why I said that. Maybe our house guests put it back in my mind. Or maybe there really was something in that tea. But I regretted asking her the question because she did not appreciate it. Not one bit. Her cheerful, dreamy expression changed, as if something inside flipped a switch.
“Why are you in my business??”
The force behind her explosion was enough to make me cower in fear. I wasn’t afraid of her, of course. It was so unexpected, and I didn’t know what was going to happen next. My body just went into protection mode, I guess.
“I…I… I just…I’m sorry!”
What happened? Was that really an invasive question? I didn’t know how to talk to girls!
“I have to go,” she said, leaving me 9000% confused.
How had things dissolved so quickly? How much weirder would that day get?? The last time a girl left me feeling humiliated like that, I ran to Mama like a little boy. But I’m a man now, and Mama is not here. I didn’t believe I did anything wrong, but it was up to me to salvage the situation, so I sucked up my feelings and went after her. To my surprise, she didn’t really leave. I saw her standing in line at the food stand.
“Maira…I’m really sorry. Look, do you want to get some real food with me? My treat? I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
She smiled.
“I’m not mad.”
I never felt relief like that. Before she could change her mind or find something else to blow up at, I took her to Holy Smoke in the arts district.
To be continued…
Me thinks Luca dedicates too much of his brain capacity to analysing his mother’s love life.
You might be right about that. Learning her dirty deeds has him shook.