"I'll go get her back."
I stopped the classmate who was about to chase after her and smiled. "Forget it."
There's a saying that goes: someone who doesn't love you can't even see you exist.
If that was the case, why should I care?
"Let's go. Tonight's on me!"
The karaoke bar was buzzing with energy.
Because Vivian wasn't there.
Back when our class did group outings, nobody had ever looked down on him for being a scholarship kid. We brought him everywhere. But he always found a way to say something that killed the mood.
"A plate of fruit costs a hundred bucks? Wow, you guys are really loaded."
"I'm not like you all, able to buy presents, so all I can give is a verbal happy birthday."
"My family's poor. Must be nice to just throw out clothes because of one little hole."
He always cast himself as the victim, as if we were flaunting our wealth in his face just by existing. And every single time, Brenda would jump to his defense.
"Hey, what are you spacing out about? Sing something. Get all that frustration out."
A classmate shoved the microphone into my hand, then ran over and queued up "Love You to Death."
It used to be my favorite song. Not anymore.
"Change it. Put on 'Single Love Song.'"
The classmate paused for a second, then quietly switched the track.
The opening notes had barely started when the door to our room slammed open. Brenda walked in with Vivian right behind her.
The room went dead silent in an instant. You could have heard a pin drop.
Brenda acted like she didn't notice. "Vivian talked me into it. I thought about it and figured he was right, I really should come. Besides, I thought you all deserved to see the new him."
She gestured at him with a wide grin. "Ta-da! Well? Isn't he handsome?"
Silence.
I looked at Vivian standing there in a tailored suit, tie knotted, dress shoes polished, and I was the first to clap. "Very handsome."
"At least you've got taste!" Brenda was pleased with my cooperation. "Vivian's always been good-looking. He just never had the money to dress the part. Now look at him. He's not a step behind any of you."
I smiled.
Handsome?
Designer labels head to toe, and he still looked like a costume on the wrong actor.
No amount of expensive clothes could manufacture the kind of presence a rotten soul would never possess.
Brenda calling him handsome was nothing more than love making her blind.
Brenda looked Vivian up and down, tapping her chin. "Something's still missing."
She turned to me. "Tony, take off your watch and give it to Vivian. I won't ask you for clothes anymore. Just one watch. Surely you can't have a problem with that?"
I froze. My eyes dropped to my wrist.
The watch was old. It didn't even keep accurate time anymore. But I'd worn it every single day, maintained it with care.
Because Brenda's father had given it to me.
The day Uncle Asher clasped it around my wrist, he'd said: "This watch has been passed down through the Pruitt family for generations. I'm entrusting it to you now. From here on, Brenda and this family are in your hands."
I was quiet for a long time before I managed to speak, my voice raw. "Are you sure?"
"What's there to be unsure about? It's just a watch. Or are you telling me you can't even part with a watch?"
Brenda's voice was sharp with irritation. She walked over and yanked the watch off my wrist. The whole thing was rough, careless. I almost stopped her more than once, but I held back.
Uncle Asher, don't blame me. This was Brenda's choice. She decided Vivian deserved this watch more than I did.
I looked at her face and said the words only to myself.
Brenda hadn't expected me to stay silent through the whole thing. She seemed almost surprised at how easily the watch had come off, and she nodded with approval.
"Tony. You've finally learned to behave."
With that, she turned back to Vivian's side and fastened the watch around his wrist with a tender smile, handling it with the utmost care, as though she were terrified of hurting him even slightly.
