I sat on the couch, munching on salted popcorn as I forced myself to watch an afternoon talk show about chopping boards. It's probably the fiftieth time I did this and I only do it when I want to forget something so bad.

No, I didn't kill anyone this time.

More like cursing myself for hoping that what happened two days ago would also get reset from my brain. Realizing that the kid in primary school that falls every morning was Rom's sister all along drilled guilt into my brain more than I let it to.

I remember the day I ate breakfast from a bowl while sitting on a vacant lot beside my house, watching pandemonium break out between the parents and the bus drivers just because a kid fell. It was funny how people would fight other people for things that could be resolved without actually fighting.

There was also a day when, while eating breakfast, I decided to add a little spice and threw a pebble at a driver wearing a purple shirt. I decided that a fist fight with a little spice of chair flipping was the best course of drama early in the morning. Even Pastor Frank got out of his dainty chapel to join the fun.

Now, that was a sight to see.

The conclusion was anticlimactic, if you ask me. Pastor Frank got out of the mess with only a slight bump in the forehead which made people believe more in God at that moment. The fight got resolved in, like, thirty minutes with him there. A new record. Huzzah.

If I don't throw that rock and the fist fight didn't happen, people will be screaming at each other for two hours. Yes, I checked. You're welcome.

But, the reason I was eating popcorn in front of the TV as a distraction for my thoughts was because I could have gone earlier and stopped the child from falling altogether. And the fact that she's Rom's sister all along didn't make it any lighter.

Ugh.

I shoveled more popcorn into my mouth, forcing myself to focus and decide whether wood chopping boards were better than nylon ones. The kitchen talk show featured a middle aged man as the interviewer and it's the same four chefs in sparkling toque blanches arguing how glass boards damage knives more.

It's an interesting show but I've seen this show a number of times that I know each and every argument up to the point where the audience laughs on cue.

It's supposed to be an effective remedy for overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame. It wasn't working.

I groaned and plopped sideways, cradling the now empty popcorn bucket to my chest. Hey, I want more popcorn. But to do that, I would have to get up, walk to the Supermarket, and buy. Then I wouldn't have money to buy stuff for dinner.

So no. Just getting up would be a struggle. I even skipped school today because I couldn't bear showing my face to anyone. I bought popcorn like a ninja. I didn't greet Pastor Frank this morning. I just didn't want to deal with anyone, especially Rom.

I kicked my legs in the air and squealed in annoyance. Of all the children that could have been Rom's sister, that girl? Why...was the world against me?

I don't know how I'm supposed to face Rom again with these memories of being an asshole. Sure, he won't know it but I would. I remember every single stupid thing I do with my life. And for once, I wanted to rewind time, do it right the first time, and continue doing so. It's...a good thing to do, right?

Rom loved his sister so much it's almost adorable. And he looked like the type of person who would go to the end of the world just to give her what she wants. Perhaps...

I sat up suddenly, making black spots dance in my eyes. Oh, I shouldn't have done that. I shook my head to clear it and tapped my chin.

If he has that kind of built-in love for his siblings, then it could be a trigger to his emotions. It just needs a little prodding and he could finally feel and process those feelings. Just a little prod.

I giggled like a mad scientist and set the empty popcorn bucket on the low-lying table by the couch. I dusted crumbs off myself and stood up. Black spots danced in my vision again. Ugh, I keep forgetting.

I ran to the kitchen where a clock sat idly atop the fridge. They're the most peculiar thing ever—clocks. They just sit there yet somehow they hold all the power to your daily life. They tell you when to eat, when to do stuff, when to go home, and even when to sleep. Time, in general, keeps a person in a cage called routine.

It's only 5:00, which means I still have time to think of something to do and probably draw up a script to avoid saying the wrong things. I fetched a pen from the coasters beside the clock and ripped my parent's note from the fridge door.

I flipped the note to the opposite side and grinned. Let the planning begin.

Rom whipped towards me when I cleared my throat. He had that face where he looked like he's ready to jump for my throat but was hesitating because I probably appeared like a good person. Oh, he could never know.

I swallowed my guilt building in my throat, shoving my hands in the front pockets of my hoodie. I took a step towards Rom, with Mindy crying as she sat on the bench. "So," I said, looking for any sign in Rom's face that he remembered me. I found none. "I know of a great ice cream place. It might cheer her up."

I regarded Mindy sniffling as she wiped at her snotty nose. She noticed Rom and I, looking at us back and forth with big, round eyes. Her uniform was filthy with what looked like ketchup. Did other kids smear it on her? Eh. Who cares?

Rom glanced uncertainly at Mindy. "You up for ice cream?" he asked with a voice as soft as a fleece blanket.

Like fireworks, the girl's eyes widened. "As long as the lady pays."

I sputtered, clutching my wallet from the pockets of my hoodie. Rom chuckled as he pushed himself up. "Come on, then," he said, ushering Mindy off the bench. The girl hopped cheerfully as if she didn't have that wound on her knee from earlier.

I probably still have a wide-eyed, surprised look in my face because Rom winked at me. Then he leaned close and dropped his voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry about the payment. I got it."

I shook my head and shrugged, ignoring the fact that this was the closest we've been. "It's fine, really," I said, tamping my relief down my gut.

Rom just inclined his head and our silent walk towards the ice cream shop began.

Rom and I stood side-by-side as we walked by the sidewalk, Mindy installed conveniently between us. The girl gripped Rom's hand as if it's the most precious thing in the world. Rom looked everywhere except at me.

Cars that I long ago memorized whizzed by us, no doubt heading home from the other side of the City. One blue, small, two-seater car passed us at the very same time I expected it to, bearing a middle aged man dressed in a striped suit and rose tie. It's the Mayor of the City.

How did I know? Well, I stalked him to his house and stole a Romanée-Conti. Most blissful evening of my life, really. I finished the whole bottle of exquisite luxury just in time for the reset to knock me to the oblivion called morning.

I found myself smiling at the memory. I felt like following the Mayor up to his cellar again, honestly. I wanted to try white wine this time.

Hmm. Maybe tomorrow?

"So," I blurted as we walked past the Supermarket. It's still a long way to the ice cream shop. "You got any other secret sibling I should watch out for?"

We rounded left in the intersection, past the bus stop. This time, opposite the way we tackle when we're going to the Campus.

Rom regarded me from the side, keeping his eyes on Mindy who clung at his arm like a snail. "Mindy's not so secret," he replied just was we passed the row houses. "But yeah, I got two more in between Mindy and I."

I nodded vaguely. "And parents?"

"Still up and kicking," Rom said before adding, "In case you're thinking of me raising kids on my own. I could never do that kind of thing."

I snorted. "Looking at you now, it wouldn't be so bad," I said.

Rom raised his eyebrow at me and said nothing. I clenched my jaw. We were almost to the ice cream shop. "And your other siblings wouldn't mind not getting picked up from school?"

Rom shrugged. "I would never live another day if Chris and Fisher saw me near their campus," he said. "You know, middle school kids and their puberty angst."

Even when I don't know what he's talking about, I've got a feeling that it's supposed to be funny so I laughed. I laughed as daintily as I could. I refrained from doing that guffawing, spit-flying laugh I usually do when I'm alone.

"Must be tough," I replied. "Is it hard, having siblings?"

"What? You don't have 'em?" Rom asked, a mix of surprise and amazement present in his tone.

I spread my hands in a sign of presentation. "The one and only," I said, grinning.

Rom mussed his hair. "Damn," he said before shaking his head. "But to answer your question, yes, having children tromping around the house or eating your cake is hard but it's fun. Children show you so much of yourself that you have forgotten."

"And that is?"

"Fun," Rom said, grinning. "You know, nobody knows that I like ice cream. How'd you know?"

My eyebrows crept up in surprise. Wow, lucky.

I shrugged and waved my hands vaguely. "Psh, who doesn't like ice cream?" I said. Why is my pace getting quicker? Why is my voice growing louder?

We turned to a smaller street. Oh, there's our ice cream shop.

"Besides that," I added, looking at Rom through my periphery. "I guess I just got lucky."

Rom chuckled. Mindy looked up at us and pointed at the bright neon sign that spelled, Creamery (I know, original). Rom's eyes softened as he glanced at Mindy. Something in my heart melted along with it. I found myself wanting to just freeze this moment and stare at it from time to time.

Somehow, I felt that having someone look at me like that could make living in this place a bit more...bearable.

I shook my head to remove that wishful thinking. Instead, I grinned at Rom. "You must love them very much, huh?"

Rom stopped walking completely and regarded me. His face is that of confusion like he wanted to believe me yet he's having trouble digesting my words. It's like I was speaking Russian to him. "I'm sorry," he said, massaging his temples. "But what is love?"

Oh.

OH. My dear Lord. The realization hit me like an over-speeding truck on a highway. Not only did it slap my organs real hard, it made me feel like I'd been flayed alive. It's...I don't know. It's sad? It's frustrating? It's mind-boggling?

Not knowing what love was or even what emotions were, this was beyond unimaginable. It's like the people in this world weren't even human. They're like mindless dolls that work and go to school just because they have to. They don't have goals brought upon by their emotions. They're just...empty.

Perhaps that explains why they couldn't remember. I don't know. I just want to weep.

Instead, I cough-laughed my way towards a bluff. "No," I said, waving my hands. "Never mind. Let's just go. The Creamery is up ahead. Mindy must be hungry!"

I swear I didn't skip like a bastard the rest of the way to the Creamery in a sad attempt to cover up my mistake. Stupid. I made a plan on a sticky note, right? Might I suggest that I should, at least, follow it?

I held the door open as Rom assisted Mindy on the two-step stairs. Shrill, tinkling sounds of the door hitting the chimes echoed in my ears as I let the glass door shut behind me. The blast of the air conditioning hit my face in a boat-paddle slap, my nose accidentally inhaling ice-cold air. I coughed a bit as I trudged to a counter past two or three rows of neatly arranged tables and chairs.

I wove through the mess of customers and serving waiters, aiming for the counter. I could already smell the scent of processed milk, the daily chatter of customers thick in my ears. Silverware clinked, voices and conversations overlapped each other. I found Rom helping Mindy into a high red stool, careful of hitting her knee wound.

I waited until the girl was seated before approaching. "Hey," I said to Mindy. "What would you have?"

"I want the pink one!" the girl said, smiling. I, unfortunately, have had the golden view of her missing front teeth. She pointed at something behind me, perhaps at the menu displayed in illuminated boards typical of any restaurant.

I shrugged at Rom. I turned to the server I decided to name Dave. He was dressed in the usual pink and white apron and shirt with the shop's name printed in bold, yellow letters plastered on them. "She wants the pink one."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "You mean strawberry?" he said.

I rolled my eyes. "As long as it's pink, I don't care if it's mango-flavored," I said. Rom shot me a sharp look.

"We'll be having the same thing. So that's three servings," Rom said before I even opened my mouth to say mine.

"Hey—"

"That will be all?" Dave's bored voice droned.

Rom grinned widely. "That will be all."

"Five minutes," Dave's voice faded in my ears as I demanded answers from Rom.

"What was that?" I hissed, gesticulating at Dave's turned back. The server was now cranking levers in their weird ice cream machine, spewing pink ice cream into waiting glass cups.

Rom winked. "You were being rude so you get punished," he said, leaning both elbows against the counter. "Besides, strawberry is a nice flavor."

I sank to the stool beside Mindy. "Maybe for you," I snapped.

He stole my chance to order so he could punish me for being rude. I haven't felt like this since...well, forever. It's like a parent chiding a child for misbehaving.

Rom really did know his way with children.

I crossed my arms. Fine. I'll eat it. It's a free dinner, by the way. And it's not like Rom, Mindy or anyone would remember anything from this encounter. I'll just eat the one I want tomorrow or whenever I feel like eating ice cream for dinner again.

Our order arrived and I shoveled strawberry ice cream into my mouth like a soldier.

"Slow down or your brain will freeze over," Rom cautioned from Mindy's other side. I'm grateful for the girl's pigtails shielding half of his face from my view. Otherwise, I might have choked on pink ice cream from the look Rom's giving me now.

"Stop looking at me," I said, avoiding his thankful eyes sending grateful hearts at me. Strawberry ice cream had never looked so interesting before. "Help Mindy with hers. Look, it's dripping."

No, I didn't say that to take his attention away from me. Ice cream really dripped from Mindy's spoon, to her hands, to the table, and down to her wrists. Rom cursed before producing a wad of tissue paper from his pocket.

I raised an eyebrow, watching Rom fuss over Mindy. What kind of person would carry around wads of tissue paper in their back pocket? It's...strange.

Well, unless you're Rom and you have a little sister named Mindy who eats ice cream like it's the most fluid thing in the world.

I sighed as I shoved the last spoonful of my ice cream into my mouth. "Eat yours, too, Rom. It's melting."

"Oh right," Rom muttered and went to eat a spoonful. Then he went back to fussing with Mindy. The girl happily tackled her ice cream, her wound and her generally bad day forgotten.

The evening passed by uneventfully with Rom dabbing tissue paper over Mindy's chin and with me looking at this dynamic like it's the purest thing in the world. When Mindy finished, Rom and I paid our separate bills and stepped out.

My taste buds were satisfied but my stomach was not. I still want to eat something substantial but I guess I'll just have to make do with what I could find at home. Because damn, this shop wiped me clean.

We were at the shop's parking space when Rom stopped walking and faced me. "Thanks for today, Jule."

I waved my hand. "It's no problem," I said. "You want to do it again sometime?"

Rom smiled. "Why not?" he said before turning, Mindy clutched once more in his hand.

I watched them go, their frames growing smaller and smaller as they tackled the road we took coming here. They almost rounded the first corner when I realized something.

I didn't mention my name anywhere near him. He didn't ask me who I was. But he called me by my name.

I opened my mouth to call him back but he and Mindy were already nowhere in sight. I forgot dinner. I forgot about the reset happening in a few hours. I stood in the Creamery's parking space, mute and in disbelief.

Because holy heavens, Rom just called me by my name.