They say you have to go through the worst to appreciate the best, truth is, I haven't appreciated anything after my worst day,
Not even my happiest memories.
12th August 2008, a cold day despite the piercing rays of summer's sun.
I cannot yet decide which was more annoying, the way everyone's palms rested on my shoulders and kept squeezing gently and murmuring words of comfort, or that my tongue was tied up and the left strength in me couldn't unfold it. I couldn't say a word and I didn't bother to look up and spot whoever was speaking to me because I knew I'd find that sympathetic smile on their faces and the pity flowing from their intense gazes.
"Corinne ma chère, look at me. You'll get through this, alright? Can you hear me?" My aunt's hideous English accent pierced through my ears, I closed my eyes for a second, they felt like fire balls as a result of my dry tears.
"Corinne your mother might be dead but she'll always be with you!"
That was it, somehow their words made me even more miserable. I nearly slapped the woman because she had bluntly stated that my mother was gone and that is just something I couldn't accept. I practically dragged my feet away, heard tangled voices calling my name. I don't know why but no one followed, maybe my brother stopped them. He was much calmer than me. I envy his strength, maybe it has something to do with him being a surgeon and seeing multiple deaths a day.
I kept slowly moving towards the exit of the mosque where the funeral started just a couple of hours ago. Actually I was pretty much .. together at the beginning, masking a strong face and shaking everyone's hands, nodding and thanking them for coming. But people are so pushy, they insist on making you burst, after that I took a huge interest in the floor tiles and blocked everyone's voices.
I found a wooden bench a few feet before the large metal gate beside a bunch of green bushes, I was both physically and emotionally drained so I dragged myself and sat on the bench. I placed my elbows on my knees and my eyes roamed the view in front of me through the metal bars.
The streets of Marseille, the city I grew up in and loved didn't seem so lovable then. The thick branches of Marseille fig trees added a hint of life to the tall pale yellow buildings you could see through its branches.
I heard murmurs behind me and turned my head slowly. My brunette best friend Julie stood there talking anxiously to Patricia, one of my closest friends at school. My lips formed a bitter smile when my eyes laid on Éric and looked away.
I loved Éric through the last eleven years of my life. I practically stalked him, even when I caught him making fun of me with his friends, that didn't seem to stop me.
He was the jock of my school. They lived in my neighbourhood so stalking him was easier, I swear I even had night vision goggles, I was sick. And somehow me and Julie believed that he loved me too but was too shy to say it. I think that's the reason I kept clinging on to him through my high school. My heart usually skipped a beat whenever I saw him, or when he would scratch the back of his neck when I ask him to hang out with me and Julie or when I see him laughing uncontrollably with his friends.
That time was different. When I saw him at the funeral I felt rather annoyed. No butterflies, no disturbed heart beats, nothing. I almost didn't notice when he sat next to me trying to fit in. I sat in the middle leaving little space on the sides and there was no way I was going to move an inch. He could sit on the ground for all I care.
"How are you?" His thick voice filled the air around us.
"How do you think?" Mine came out shaky and pathetic but I couldn't care less. I still didn't look at him, I wouldn't bear the pity in his eyes, which was already obvious in his voice.
He sighed heavily and took my hands in his, I still felt nothing.
"Everyone loved Denise, you should always remember that."
"I know." My heart fell at the mention of her name.
"I wanted to talk to you .." He squeezed my hand before continuing, "I know it's not the time or the place but I have to say this."
I silently begged him not to say anything that will add to my emotional trauma.
"I didn't mean what I said, what you heard a while ago at school. It was really wrong of me and I'm sorry." Seriously? He's telling me now, it's been over a month.
He just had to remind me, hadn't he?
****
"Gilbert, what's going on between you and that redhead?" Luc, the basketball jock told Éric with a smug face.
"What? Corinne? Absolutely nothing!" Éric fired back a little too defensively which only widened Luc's smile. The rest of the school gang began to whistle and make noises.
"Come on guys! Nothing's going on, she's just ..." He absentmindedly threw his basketball against the opposite wall.
"She's what exactly?" Another guy spoke up and I shot Julie an excited look. We were hiding behind the wall and shushing everyone passing by to hear him clearly.
"She's like this ball!"
His friends clapped and whistled louder. Luc added, "What? She makes you feel alive?" And Éric joined their laughter. He always used to say that about basketball, that it made him feel alive and in charge.
"No," he pushed the ball one again and when it landed between his palms he began rolling it between both his index fingers, "If you throw her against the wall, she'll crawl back to your arms. She doesn't take a hint."
His friends roared with laughter while my heart sank in my chest. Pathetic tears formed in my eyes and Julie cursed them. I didn't know how I moved, but suddenly I was standing in front of them. The roars stopped, all eyes were on me. I met his eyes and they were immediately full of guilt when tears raced down my cheek.
****
He didn't know that I already got over it. I thought it was all a part of dodging Corinne and talking shit about her because I'm secretly in love with her propaganda. Julie convinced me that boys do that when they want to appear cool in front of their friends, she said that according to them the boy who falls in love is whipped. But now I think she just said that to not hurt my feelings.
"It's fine, really. I haven't given it much thought anyway." I gave it a lot of thought. It was a torture really.
"I don't wanna be the cause of one of your miseries."
"You're not, trust me." I thought about asking him why he didn't apologize earlier but I was too tired to chitchat.
"I know how you feel about me and it's okay because I feel the same too." He blurted.
I frowned, I didn't understand why would he say that now out of all the days.
"I love you, I'm in love with you." He repeated feeding me every word to make sure I heard him correctly.
I should be writing now about the phenomenal sensation I felt, or how great that moment was, maybe write some love quotes. But that would be a lie, because what I felt that moment cannot be described. A big fat nothing. I felt nothing.
After two or three minutes of absolute silence, I began laughing hysterically, and when I say laughing I mean it in the most frightening way possible. He seemed startled by my strange act and left my hand. I looked at him for the first time that day, those maroon eyes I used to love too much are now foreign to me. I shook with laughter, once I started I honestly couldn't stop.
"I-I don't understand what's so funny!" The shock was clear in his voice. I wanted to tell him that I didn't understand either.
I stopped the madness and stared at my lap with a bitter smile before deciding to speak up.
" You have no idea how long I waited for you to say this. I waited so long." His features softened, "but now that you have said it, I wish you hadn't because honestly I have nothing to say in return."
It felt like somebody else was speaking for me. I would've never said those words in my right mind to anyone who had just confessed his love to me, let alone Éric, the boy I've been obsessing over for the past decade. The words left my tongue as easy as asking about the weather. How did I get even here? Everything seemed like a dream. My mother's gone, the love of my life confessed his love to me. If this was a dream, I swear I'd be really pissed when I wake up.
"You don't have to say anything, this isn't the proper time. I don't know what I was thinking."
I was supposed to tell him that it was okay, that I felt the same way. I was supposed to run and tell Julie all about it, we would jump and squeal and the life I've been fantasizing about with Éric would come true.
But I didn't even blink.
"I'll give you some space. Call me if you need anything, please." He placed a quick kiss on my cheek before taking off.
I wiped the kiss with my sleeve feeling disgusted. I looked to my left and saw my dad walking towards the exit. He looked like a mess, just like me. His eyes met mine and I knew that moment that something broke between us, that we'd never be the same without Maman.
Loud pop music filled the air, I flinched ready to yell at whoever caused that mess. Seconds later I saw the source. A red Kia Cerato passed by the gate, its glass windows revealed a couple laughing and singing along. A giggle escaped the girl's lips when the guy made a silly move to the beats of the song.
This was the second I realized how strange the world is. How can an extremely happy couple pass by a teenage girl in her mother's funeral. How can they dance and laugh completely unaware that a girl has just changed into somebody else, somebody she doesn't recognize.