2011

How did a child wrap their head around having to help their sick father with using the toilet because he was too weak to go by himself and there was no one else at home to help him? I had no idea and I could have gone my entire life without that knowledge.

After helping him back into bed and asking if he needed anything else, I slipped out of the room and into the kitchen, which was about the furthest away I could get without up and leaving the house entirely. The edge of the counter became burned into my palm as I clutched in, trying not to fall to my knees. I couldn't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. It was exhausting being in this house, but it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go. School was just as exhausting too, so even getting away for eight hours five days a week didn't help either.

As soon as Kanani returned home from class, I booked it out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. Running had become as necessary as breathing once I realized how much it helped to plunge the rest of the world into silence. But besides that, fresh air was good for the soul and I hadn't been getting enough of it lately otherwise.

My path eventually took me down the main road, and I stopped at 7-Eleven to grab something to eat before I headed back home. Our family had survived the past week almost exclusively off of Chinese takeout and, as delicious as it was, I needed something else in my system. 7-Eleven food wasn't the pinnacle of culinary excellence by any means, but it would do for now.

Someone called my name as I was looking through the musubi case with a melting Slurpee in my hands.

Spinning around to find Aiko walking down the aisle toward me was a surprise. The last time I saw her was her last day of school a few days before the Class of 2010's graduation, which felt like a lifetime ago, even though it had only been about a year and a half. Since I had caught a stomach bug the day before, I couldn't make it to the actual ceremony, which always felt like such a shame because Aiko was one of the few fellow students who paid attention to me and liked me for me, not because I was someone else's sister.

"Hi!" Aiko enveloped me in a crushing hug. It was the first time I had been touched in weeks. "I was hoping to run into you."

"What are you doing out here?" I asked, pulling away. As far as I knew, she had gone to the continental US for school and most of her family lived in Kuliouou.

"Oh, I fly back to New York in a few days, but I went to Bellows with a few friends." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at a small group picking drinks out of the back. Now that she mentioned it, I could see the swimsuit peeking out from under her tank top. "Can't tell you how much I missed seeing actual blue water. But hey, you look so good! How's school been?"

Instead of admitting the truth, I fingered the ends of my hair, which had gone curly and frizzy from sweat. Even though I was damn near drenched in it, it didn't seem to deter Aiko. "That's just the runner's high making me look like I still have color to my face."

She laughed. "Who knew people in Hawai'i had a winter shade?"

Glancing down at my arm, I noticed how pale I had gotten compared to the normal warm, light brown shade I typically sported year-round. It had been a while since I'd gone for a swim. Was losing all of my golden hue a result of the nearing winter season or because I didn't have a reason to step out into the sun anymore? That probably wasn't the answer she wanted.

"I don't want to keep you away from your friends," I said, slowly backing away.

Her hand shot out to keep me in place. "Oh, don't worry about them. Seriously, how have you been? I've been thinking about you."

"I'm alright." My performance wasn't going to win me any Oscars. (Not that it mattered because I wasn't white or a nepotism baby, so even if I was deserving of it I would have gotten snubbed.) "School has been... busy. Principal Saito has been the literal worst. But you know how it is." I paused. "What about you?"

Aiko shrugged. "I didn't realize how soul-sucking college was going to be, but I have the luxury of eating instant ramen every single day because that's all I can afford, so that's fun."

"Does the slice of plastic cheese come out on special occasions?"

"You know me so well."

My phone started ringing then and when I glanced down at it, Kanani's name appeared on the screen, pulling me back from the safety of my hasty escape. Part of me felt bad for not picking up because something could have happened at the house, but a larger part of me wanted to be selfish and drag this time away for as long as possible.

"Are you doing anything after this?" I asked.

Aiko studied the shift in my demeanor. Never in my life had I been that enthusiastic about the prospect of going out somewhere, and although we only knew each other within the confines of Kaiser High School's walls, even she understood it was an unusual question from me.

"We were just going to grab some drinks and then head over to Zippys." She paused. "Want to come with?"

"The one in Koko Marina?"

"Yeah." It wasn't as far as I would have liked, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Before I could second guess myself, I placed the musubi back into the display case. "Sure, let's go."

...

Nothing was going to change the fact that I was a hardcore introvert who suffered from frequent social anxiety, but some days were more tolerable than others. I wanted to believe that getting myself here was a good sign I had a chance of turning things around, that maybe all I needed to get out of this perpetual funk I had sunken into was a familiar but unexpected face, but it wasn't exactly what I thought it could have been.

I felt like a different person sitting there amongst a group of people I didn't know. These faces were of strangers, and this voice coming from the depths of my chest belonged to someone else. The only person who even somewhat resembled something familiar was Aiko, and even she was someone I hardly knew.

One habit I formed in the past few months was wondering what my life would have looked like if someone was watching it as a film, or reading it in a book. Maybe it served no purpose except to help disassociate from all the stress weighing down on me, but it often felt like the only way I could analyze my thoughts and emotions—as if I was an objective viewer and not the person experiencing everything.

What did I look like then with my blank stare, occasionally glancing around each time someone spoke? Did I have a perpetual bitch face that scared people away? Made them want to not bring me into the conversation? Was this the part of my movie when the person watching at home turned the TV off because they were tired of seeing me whine about problems that weren't my own? Was my life just endless pages of depressing thoughts and wishful thinking that I could be normal when, in reality, I was normal because I wasn't special?

I wanted to believe I was something more than this. That I could function like the rest of the world and process my feelings in a healthy way. I so desperately wanted to be the idea of who I thought everyone else was because I was so exhausted from being this person sitting here right now, waiting for the world to open up for me.

And yet, as the minutes passed by, I did nothing. I did nothing and said nothing and became nothing more than who I already was. I sat there and watched life pass me by while I wished upon a star whose light had died a long time ago.

"You alright?" Aiko whispered as the conversation shifted back to the other end of the table.

I nodded, afraid that if I spoke, she would know it was all a lie. As if it wasn't most likely written all over my face, anyway.

"Do you have some of that—" I mimed taking a drink. Since Aiko was the designated driver, it wasn't difficult to see her friends pour something from a flask into their enormous Big Gulp drinks when we first got into the car. Even if they had been a bit more subtle with their pours, I could smell it on their breath.

She hesitated. "I don't know if that's a good idea—"

"I'll be fine," I insisted. It wasn't like any of us were strangers to underage drinking. And nobody paid enough attention to me to care that I wanted to drink while the sun was very much still out. "Just a little?"

I had to give her some credit for giving it a second thought. Maybe in her eyes, she saw that smaller, quieter version of me she helped keep company at that party three years ago. (Practically a lifetime for a teenager.)

Sometimes I missed that girl.

Without waiting for verbal confirmation, I snatched one of the spiked drinks off the table and took a generous gulp. It burned going down my throat, but I continued drinking even though I knew I hated every second of it. It wasn't a healthy way of coping with the stress; I knew that. However, when my only other options, like playing music or running, had become so dull that they no longer held any lasting effects, this was the best I could come up with.

It had been long established that my best was never really enough.

...

"Is she... drunk?" Kanani asked.

Aiko silently confirmed my unfortunate state as I clung to her with one arm wrapped around her shoulder while I used the other to press a hand against my mouth. After throwing up in the Zippy's bathroom, I wasn't sure it was possible to feel more embarrassed, but I somehow teetered between wondering if I was in the middle of an existential crisis or on the verge of not having a single fuck to give anymore.

As soon as my brain processed the look of disappointment on my sister's face, I settled for the latter.

"It's not even four p.m. yet."

"It's five o'clock somewhere, right?" Aiko asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Kanani didn't laugh.

If there was a way to stop people from looking at me as if I had a fragile sticker taped to my forehead, I would have jumped at the chance for it. I knew I had no one else to blame for it—getting caught drinking was bad enough; getting caught drinking in the afternoon was somehow worse—but I was at that point in my life when all I wanted to do was blame the entire world. If I couldn't, I had nowhere else to direct my anger.

My attempts to push past my sister into the house were thwarted by the two of them, only fueling my frustrations, which, in combination with my current state, didn't help anyone, least of all me. It might have been that my father was downstairs somewhere and she didn't want me to get in trouble, but thinking rationally wasn't something I was even remotely equipped to handle.

"I can't believe you," Kanani snapped as the two of them carried me to a chair on the back porch. It was out of view from the living room, so I assumed that was where Dad was hanging out, assuming he hadn't already crawled back into bed since he spent most of his time resting. "Since when did you decide you needed to have a rebellious phase?"

I scoffed, "I hardly think one day counts as a rebellious phase, but thank you for being dramatic."

"Being dramatic?" she asked incredulously. "You stumble in here, drunk, even though we all know you hate drinking, when Dad is right inside that house. How reckless could you be?"

"Oh, a lot more, that's for sure."

She didn't bother with more than an exasperated grunt in my direction before looking up at Aiko who, for reasons unknown, was still providing support. If I were her, I would have dumped myself on the front step, rang the doorbell, and bolted out of there before anyone ever saw me.

While Kanani ran inside to get me a glass of water, and probably something to eat so I could soak up some of the booze, Aiko took the seat next to me. I couldn't read her expression, either because she was good at hiding her thoughts or because everything felt like a spinning top that never fell over. (Not for a lack of trying.) (I almost tripped getting out of Aiko's car.)

"You don't have to stay, you know," I told her. The words felt raw against my tongue, and they slurred together in a way that made them feel like one, long string of unintelligible sounds. "My sister will help me sober up. And then probably kill me herself. But I'll be a sober corpse."

"What's wrong with your dad?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "There's nothing wrong with him. He's perfect and everything I could have asked for in a father. He doesn't deserve this. He deserves better. This... thing can't take him away from me."

Her features softened, and understanding flickered in her eyes. She only had a few more days back home and it took me less than twenty-four hours to drown out any chance of enjoying the day.

"I'm so sorry, Hoku."

I was too. In fact, I whispered those words into my pillow every single night, bearing the weight of an apology I had no obligation to give since it wasn't my fault. And instead of accepting that god-awful truth that shitty things happened to good people despite all the good they offered the world, I drowned under the weight of the guilt that I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help around the house. I couldn't take his pain away. I certainly couldn't face the uncertainty of tomorrow's reality because I knew how precious time was—almost as precious as hope, and just as fragile and debilitating—and that neither of us, not even myself, could guarantee any more of it.

"I'm sorry for ruining your day."

She stared at me, lips tight. "You never have to apologize for being human."

Bullshit.