We had just gotten new jobs in San Diego and were celebrating a move to San Diego. My mom decided to get together with family and help us move. I had just gotten off the phone with him. He called me to let me know that he had just rented an apartment down there for the both of us.

I was taken back to a time in which I still attended school on-campus, and so did he. We were the same age range, evident by the fact that we were attending school together. I had taken a history course that specialized in video gaming history. The instructor was impatient, rude, and uncomfortable. I had taken the course the quarter before and stopped going to classes, resulting in a flunking grade. I was taking another course this quarter to make up the credits, but he was taking the video gaming history course.

“He’s… different. I’m not sure if you’ll like him,” I said to K.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s an interesting topic, how bad can it be?” K responded.

“Okay,” I said hesitantly, “Suit yourself. Do you need help finding the classroom? I remember I almost got lost the first time I tried finding it.”

“Oh, yeah sure, that would help.” K agreed.

“Okay, that area of campus looks like this,” I said as I began drawing out a map of the 55 block of campus. “His classroom is 55-53, right?”

“Yeah,” K confirmed as he looked at my drawing.

“Yeah, so, it’s in a little corner in the very back of campus, so it’s a little hard to find the 55 block. But this should help. It’s the first classroom on the bottom left,” I said as I drew a circle around the classroom.

He smiled and kissed my cheek, “Okay, thanks!” He took the drawing and headed off in the direction of the classroom as classes were beginning for the day.

I went back to my mother’s house while K was in school. I had been dreading “hair day” because it always takes forever to wash my hair – 45 minutes minimum. I have thick hair, and it’s not even that long, but it always takes forever and it’s a chore. Thankfully, I don’t dye my hair anymore so washing my hair isn’t as laborious as it used to be.

I walked into the room my older sister and I were sharing that weekend.

I walked over to the room end of the room where a pile of fresh clothes lay on top of a nightstand.

“Ughhhh,” I whined aloud.

“What?” My sister asked, not looking up from her phone as she sit up on the bed with her back against the wall, facing the window.

“I don’t want to wash my hair,” I complained.

“Why don’t you just use leave-in conditioner?” She asked.

“Does it actually work well?” I inquired, looking at her and tilting my head.

She put her phone down on the bed and walked over to the dresser, rummaging through her things. She pulled out a silver metal spray can and a brush. As I walked behind her and looked over her shoulder, she sprayed the white foam onto the blue brush.

“Here,” She said as she walked behind me, and began brushing my hair.

I looked into the vanity mirror, watching her as she brushed my hair.

“Done,” She said a few minutes later.

I looked at my hair and ran my fingers through my now-voluminous hair. “Wow,” I whispered. “It actually works really well,” I said, surprised. “What brand is that?”

She reached down into the dresser again and picked up the can. Just as she was about to say the brand, our mom walked into the house and I peeked my head out the door.

“Oh you’re on your way now? Okay, we’re ready.” My mom said loudly into the phone.

I haven’t heard from K in a while so I called him again. He picked up and before I could say anything, he said, “How many times have you called me? I keep getting calls from these interns and their calls just keep dropping. I’m about to leave with my mom’s food. Should I go to your mom’s house or just drive straight down to San Diego?” The sound of the words “interns” made me cringe. He had joined the school’s Vietnamese Student Association just like I had once been a part of it. He was e-board this year and had a group of 10 or so interns scrambling

I responded, confused, “I’ve only called you once. People are barely starting to come to my mom’s now so you should probably just come to my mom’s and then we’ll all leave for San Diego together.”

“I thought we were meeting at 4:30?”

The clock read 4:15 P.M. I laughed, “Yeah, it doesn’t mean everyone’s going to be here by 4:30. It means people can start coming over at 4:30 but everyone probably won’t all be here until 5:00.”

He sighed, a little annoyed, “Okay, I’ll head to your mom’s now.” We hung up.

End.