PART FOURTEEN | A ROTTEN SOCIETY

She is the beach, warm and cheerful. She is the mountain, cold and mysterious. She is Gwendoline.

The sky is still dark when I step outside my house. I zip my jacket up to prevent an excessive morning breeze touching my skin. My worn-out maroon running tights is stretched as I do the warm-ups in front of my gate. The street is completely empty, leaving me to jog alone under the dim of street lights. A rustling sound is created when my white running shoes crush the dry leaves.

I pull my hair into a ponytail and cover it with a cap I bought from the thrift shop. Thrift shopping is something that Candice and I keen on doing. Actually, that is the reason why we are becoming friend. It was my first day at school when Candice sat beside me on History Class.

"I like your jacket," she said. I remember looking down at my denim jacket.

"Thanks, I bought it from the thrift shop yesterday," I respond with a smile. Her iris dilated and a gasp exited her mouth.

"You love thrift shopping too? Oh my God, we have to go together sometimes," she said cheerfully.

Since that moment I always ask Candice to hunt gems on the thrift shop. We often go to another neighborhood to find something new because every thrift shop provides different treasures. That is the art of thrift shopping.

I jog past the houses of my neighbor. Sweat trickles down my cheek and neck from the perspiration. My breath is becoming short and sharp as I increase the speed of my pace. I feel my lungs are burned inside my ribcage, but I do not stop.

The sun is peeking on the eastern horizon. A tangerine sunbeam tinges the dark sky. The street lights are turning off and people are cluttering on the street. A man running with jogger pants and a big headphone is smothered his head, focusing on the pavement below his feet. A young couple is bickering about who should clean the garden in front of their door. A granny with an orange sunnies is walking on the pavement. She smiles so wide showing her newly made dentures.

I halt in front of a black gate that surrounds the park. Leaning my back on the cold material behind me. I chug the water from my bottle vigorously. The water is gliding down my throat, moistening it from the dryness. I slip my phone from my pocket, clicking the volume button.

It is 06:02 a.m.

I scroll through my contacts and dial her number. She picks up the call after the third ring. "Hi, where are you?"

Hey, I hear a breathy voice on the other line. I just... arrived. Sorry, I'm out of breath. Where-

My eyes wander to the street and I find her petite figure in a purple jacket and running short showing her pretty legs. Her auburn hair is tied with a black band and her pale skin is glowing from sweating. A phone is on her right hand, pressing her ear. "I can see you. On your right, Gwen," I cut her sentence, waving my hand to her direction.

Oh! Hi! I can still hear her voice on the phone as she runs toward me.

"I haven't run for a long time," she says, shoving her phone in her pocket. I mirror her action. The last time I saw Gwen was two weeks ago, in the field. She looks pretty as always unless there is a dark spot under her eyes. My eyes dart to her flat tummy, reminding me about the conversation between Amy and Monica in the toilet last week. I shake the thought away; it is not appropriate.

"Yeah, you miss two weeks of practice," I respond, nudging her side. She laughs and swats my shoulder. That is something Gwen always does. She couldn't keep her hands from swatting or hitting when she is laughing.

"Let's sit somewhere. My leg is wobbly," she says. We enter the park and searching for an unoccupied bench which is abundant because the park is nearly empty. It is a beautiful Sunday morning, we could hear a bird is chirping above us. I close my eyes and inhale, filling my lungs with the fresh air. A picture of Jeremy smokes his cigarette is crossing my mind. He should stop smoking or else he would be panting hard on the field every Friday nights. Oh, poor lungs. But I have to admit that he looks attractive with a cigarette slipping between his lips. Pardon me.

"Tara," Gwen calls, retreating me from my thought about Jeremy. She sits on the wooden bench behind me. I join beside her, wipe down my sweating palm on my running tights. But it is useless; I am still nervous about the next conversation. My palm keeps sweating.

"We miss you, Gwen," I say after I am ready to start a conversation.

Surprisingly, she chuckles. "That's probably just you and Juls," she says. "I miss you too, Tara. It's been a hard week for me." She nibbles on the skin of her right thumb.

"I hope everything's alright now. We can focus on practicing again." I crane my neck to look at her. Her lips curve to a smile, but her eyes are full of sorrow. She looks away from me.

"I have to go, Tara. We can't practice together again," she sighs.

I giggle, "Nice joke." Gwen is not the best at joking, she is the worst. Usually, she would laugh at her own joke.

"I'm not joking. I move out. This school doesn't want me, they hate me," she says, avoiding my gaze.

I couldn't fathom her sentence, "What are you talking about, Gwen?" She is loved. I adore her so much. She is one of the most passionate girls I ever know in my life. Everyone likes her. Or seems to like her.

She sighs for the second time, her hands reach my shoulder. "Listen, Tara. I'm not joking around. I'm no longer in the team or even go to the same school as you anymore. My family sent me to a boarding school. I'm leaving tomorrow," she states. I feel a sting of tears in my eyes that I am trying to hold back.

"I want to meet you here for the last time before I am leaving. You're the one that I consider as a friend, Tara. People are fake, the society is rotten. I can't trust anyone, unless you. Thanks for always be kind and genuine all the time." I pull her into a tight hug. The dam that I have built for so long is cracking. I am sobbing so hard in her shoulder. "Don't cry," she says in a muffled voice. I start to feel my shoulder is wet from her tears.

She pulls out from our hug. "Listen," she suppresses her sob, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. "I talked to Coach. And we were agreed that you would be the next captain," she says firmly.

I shake my head vigorously. "I can't. I ain't capable," I say. This is confusing me. Gwen sudden leaving and her ridiculous recommendation. I never think that I am good enough. It's impossible.

"You are capable. Therefore, I recommend you to Coach. And she agrees with me. You have to believe in yourself, Tara," she says.

"Gwen, I'm just a freshman. This is silly." I lean back to the bench.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever, Tara. Think about it. But, I am sure you're the most capable person on the team to be the captain," she says, folding her hand in front of her chest.

"Amy wants to be the captain. I knew it. Let her be." I shrug my shoulder.

Gwen snorts, "That leech is not even on the list. Come on, Tara. Don't disappoint me." She pouts like a child begging for a new toy.

I shrug my shoulder and say, "I'll think about it, Gwen. But still, it's silly."

She smiles and says, "Take your time."

We sit for a while in silence, drowning in our own thought. I am thinking about what Amy said in the toilet, the abortion. But if Gwen is refused to talk about it, I wouldn't dare to push it.

We get up from the bench and walking to the gate of the park.

"Call me if you need me," I say to Gwen.

She nods and says, "Call me if you need me too."

I feel a pang of hurt in my heart. Her leaving is so sudden, I don't believe today is happening. For the last time, we hug each other. But this time we are not crying. She pats my back and whispers, "Take care."

I should be the one who says that.

Take care, Gwendoline.

I jog back to my house. The sun fully arises on the eastern horizon. The dark sky turns into a clear blue sky. A man sitting on the pavement with a big headphone hanging loosely on his neck, smiling to his phone probably texting with his lover. A young couple is still bickering but now they both are cleaning the garden. A granny with an orange sunnies is sitting on her porch, eating a sausage with her newly made dentures.

The society is rotten, probably. But there are these little moments we could cherish every day.
C'est la vie.

***
howdy, friends? hope you're doing okay. I am so sorry, this chapter doesn't contain our beloved Jeremy. but Gwendoline's story is important too so we can reflect from her experience. I agree the society is rotten. there are a lot of horrible things that our society has done. but, live must go on. all we can do is cherish every moments. cheers!
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