Chapter 3: Groceries - Thanks for the Ice Cream
Around a month into them knowing each other, Ivan and Yao had started actually conversing, and about two months in, they'd meet in the library every single day, and every single day Yao would give Ivan a bao. Then, they'd talk.
Ivan and Yao talked a lot now.
They talked and talked and talked and talked and talked about anything and everything. They chatted each other up and down about the weather, or they complained about the AP Physics teacher and all her glorious dullness, or Yao would give Ivan bun recipes, even though Ivan knew that he'd never have the opportunity, or finances, to use them.
In fact they'd talk so much, chat up such a storm, be so engrossed into conversation, that sometimes they missed the bell, and as soon as Yao realized the time he'd quickly bid farewell, then dart off to class, fast as a songbird. Ivan would lumber behind with little concern for being on time, because his parents paid too little attention to him to worry about whether he was late to class or not.
Besides, they'd be pissed at him for one reason or another anyway.
Ivan was lost, but in a good way. Yao's words were like a whirlwind that picked Ivan up and lifted his spirit. Ivan would be blown away, his mind being opened and stretched and exploded by his and Yao's conversations. They were so much fun, and Yao never yelled or snapped at him, and Ivan could say whatever he wanted to say without having a vodka bottle being thrown at him.
Entranced, amazed, and delighted, all day every day Ivan couldn't wait for his and Yao's lunch conversations, and today was seldom an exception.
"This one has mung bean paste in it."
Yao sat down, and out from his lunchbox he pulled a bun. Yao smiled as Ivan looked at it hungrily, and he gently set the bun into Ivan's hands.
Ivan unwrapped the bun, put it up to his mouth, and took a big, heaping bite.
"You like it?" Yao asked. Then he shrugged sheepishly. "You could say that it's a bit of an acquired taste."
"Not my favorite, but still good," Ivan replied. In all honesty, though, he didn't give a damn if the bun was filled with fucking pickled garlic cloves and expired prunes; by the time Yao and lunch got to him, he'd been starving.
Ivan's parents had been going through a "rough patch", again, so even less food was in the cupboards now.
In fact Ivan could dare say that Yao and his baozi buns were somewhat keeping him alive.
After biting into the mung bean bun, the hunger-induced dizziness he had previously felt was now gone, at least for an hour, but that hour was good enough for Ivan. He felt lucky to have food in his stomach at all, really, so he continued on with little complaint and little inclination that Yao suspected a thing.
They sat in silence for about ten minutes, with Yao going over piles of notes and countless textbook chapters while Ivan simply looked on and nibbled on his bun. Most people would have found such a silence uncomfortable. However, Ivan greatly enjoyed the quietness and lack of fear within the air, and he noticed how easy it was to eat in a calm, non-abusive environment, he himself finding great irony in the fact that such a calm observation had only come due to years of abuse and neglect.
"Aye-ya!" Yao exclaimed suddenly. It made Ivan snicker because Yao sounded so cute when he said that.
"What is it?" Ivan asked once he'd stopped laughing. Anything Yao said could make him laugh; anything Yao said was an absolute delight.
Yao sighed, comically set his head down on the table, and turned to Ivan with tired eyes. Yao looked exhausted. His hair seemed to have fallen out of its normal ponytail. He appeared a bit paler than usual. Even the way he had given Ivan the bun was a glaring display to his lack of energy.
Yao didn't say anything for a while. He was just groaning slightly from his head-down position on the table, and as Ivan continued to eat his bun, he looked on in concern. Had something happened?
"What's wrong? You look tired." Ivan dared to prod Yao with his finger, and after a solid minute Yao finally flipped himself over so that his head was resting on its side. He looked Ivan dead in the eyes, and their hollowness honestly scared him.
Did Ivan do something wrong? He probably did. He always does something wrong.
"I'm just stressed, that's all. Guess I shouldn't have waited until now to study for finals, huh?"
Ivan nodded in sympathy. He understood Yao's stress since final exams were next week, and Yao was taking a mind-boggling six AP classes, too. He then proceeded to give Yao's head a gentle pat, and he leaned in close, almost as if getting a better look of Yao would make him less tired.
Neither said anything for a bit, as without Yao's ability to crutch the conversation, Ivan couldn't think of anything to say, and his thoughts started to wander.
He looked at Yao, and as he gingerly scratched the other boy's head as a gesture of comfort, a thought struck him.
Ivan softly turned Yao's head to get a better look of his face, and look he did at the pale skin and eye-bags and black messy hair. Ivan continued petting and stroking and running his hand through Yao's silky hair, his fingers quite very much enjoying its softness and color and everything about it, really.
Finally, after what felt like the longest time, Ivan managed to add something into the pool of words floating around him and Yao.
"You look like a panda."
At first, Yao didn't say anything, and Ivan assumed that Yao either didn't hear or didn't have the heave left in him to reply.
However, after about thirty seconds, Yao jolted his head around and turned away from Ivan's gaze.
"Yao?"
Ivan stretched his head around so that he could better see Yao's face.
What Ivan saw absolutely shocked him, but not in a bad way.
There, with his eyes looking at the other side of the table as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, Yao's face had turned red as a tomato.
And he looked fucking adorable.
Yao didn't say anything, at first. He just sat there, eyes wide and face red, and Ivan chuckled at how funny Yao looked at the moment.
"I haven't been called that since I was five," Yao muttered at last. He sounded like a child whose mother had just embarrassed him.
"But you do look like a panda." Ivan continued to tease. He realized that he'd hit a sore nerve.
"Don't call me that! It's embarrassing!" Yao whined as he hid his face in the sleeves of his jacket.
"What's so embarrassing about being cute, though?" Ivan questioned. Ivan himself had never been called cute before, much less been compared to a panda. Why did this embarrass Yao so much? Ivan surely felt more embarrassed that he'd never been called cute or adorable before, even as a child, than Yao ever could have felt about being called the exact same thing.
Yao's face reddened even more, if that was even possible, and Ivan just scooted closer so that his nose nearly pressed right up against Yao's flushing cheeks.
"You're so adorable," Ivan told him with a genuinely delighted smile. "And, you look less tired than you were before, too."
"Yeah, thanks a million," Yao sarcastically retorted.
"Panda," Ivan snickered playfully.
"Oh, stop it," Yao bit back. His cheeks had returned to normal, and even though he was telling Ivan to stop calling him that, Yao looked to be on the verge of laughing.
"Panda," Ivan continued.
Yao appeared to have bitten his tongue in an attempt to stave off the laughter.
Ivan smiled.
"Panda."
That did it. Yao threw his head back, but because they were in the library he restrained himself with louder than average giggles rather than quieter than average laughs. Yao's shoulders trembled, the widest grin spreading across his face.
Yao's face turned red again, but this time not due to embarrassment.
Finally, Yao calmed down, and he looked noticeably livelier than just about a minute ago.
"Thanks; I needed that." Yao turned to Ivan, his face not contorted in laughter but now with a sweet, genuine smile.
"No problem," Ivan replied, his heart fluttering because he found Yao's laugh absolutely, positively, fantastically perfect. Every laugh, every smile, everything, about Yao was, is, magic.
Yao settled himself, but this time he didn't groan when he set his eyes back on the textbooks.
He then turned to Ivan, and Ivan couldn't help but notice how wide and bright Yao's eyes had become. Ivan held his breath, for he knew what that wide-eyed, bright look meant. He knew that Yao was thinking of something, and Ivan didn't want to interrupt.
He waited. Yao was Ivan's only friend, so therefore Ivan found himself being more patient than he was ever used to being.
A moment, a minute, and an eye flicked later, Yao looked at Ivan with an expression of excitement but also begging.
"Hey, Ivan, finals are coming up next week, yeah?" Yao asked rhetorically.
Ivan didn't know where this conversation was headed, so he could only nod his head in yes.
A second passed before Yao continued. "And, well, since everyone's been stressed over exams and stuff, I thought that we could hang out. Go see a movie or something, you know?"
"Oh, I'm not sure if I can pay for that; I'm kind of broke," Ivan replied casually.
If only Yao knew that when Ivan said he was broke, he meant it. Ivan was broke in the most literal and metaphorical connotation and denotation of the word.
His lack of money stemmed far deeper than his allowance running low. Ivan was not simply broke. Ivan was broke - so broken - that he couldn't afford food regularly. So broke that he'd stopped using shampoo for the past few months because that wasted money and the water bill. So broke that they sometimes shut the power - and by extension the heating - off. In the middle of winter. So broke that Ivan constantly worried about him and his family getting evicted from their crummy little house that was so small that Ivan slept in the attic since he had no room of his own. So broke that Ivan, that he, was broken.
Ivan's a broken doll who's too useless to fix himself.
Ivan shuttered, but he tried to shake away the depressing thoughts. Yao wouldn't judge him for not being able to afford movie tickets, right? Besides, Ivan didn't think that he needed or deserved to go out. Going out is for good people, good people whose parents love them.
Something within Ivan hurt so bad whenever he appreciated the realization that his own parents couldn't find it within them to love him, more than a punch ever could. His heart throbbed at the thought that he didn't deserve to be loved. He didn't deserve to go to the movies and have a little fun, and he didn't deserve Yao.
Ivan doesn't deserve anything.
"Ivan?"
You're useless, Ivan!
"Hey, Ivan."
Shut up! No one wants to listen to you!
"Oi! Ivan!"
Ivan, just go into a hole and die.
"Ivan . . ?"
Ivan let out a gasp when he realized that Yao's hand was frantically dancing around in front of his face, and the teenager bit back a scream. He tried his best not to flush in shame as he slowly processed that Yao had been trying to get his attention.
"Ah! I'm so sorry!" The apology came automatically.
Ivan tried to not constantly apologize, he really did. He knew that apologizing for nothing, apologizing for just existing, would attract both attention and suspicion, but sometimes he'd mess up. Ivan's heart pounded as he waited for Yao to demand an explanation.
"It's fine."
Ivan had to stop himself from perking up at the fact that Yao didn't question him.
"Really?" Ivan asked as he twiddled awkwardly his fingers.
"Yeah, of course. I zone out all the time," Yao replied.
Ivan's psyche gave out the largest sigh of relief known to man.
"Hey, so, if you can't buy movie tickets, we could do something else if your parents let you," Yao suggested.
Ivan shrugged, crushed by the thought that his parents wouldn't even care if he didn't come home.
Opting for a less alarming response, Ivan told Yao, "Oh, my parents don't really care as long as I'm back by dark and don't do anything illegal." Ivan honest to god tried to make his statement sound humorous, but he had the feeling that he'd fallen flat somehow. He always fell flat, flat on his face and flat of everyone's expectations. He couldn't do anything right. Ivan can't do anything right, not a single damn thing!
You can't do anything right, Ivan! screamed the voice of his mother, but Ivan shoved the scream down, no matter how violently it bubbled just beneath water's surface.
"Oh, well, if you want, we can go somewhere else," Yao said, the boy smiling and not even so much as questioning Ivan's home life. "Saturday, maybe?"
"What about your studying?" Ivan asked. He needed an excuse, a reason that they couldn't hang out, because only good people like Yao deserve to have a good time. Not bad people. Not Ivan.
Yao rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it! It's the weekend, so I should be free then, and I try to get as much as possible done at school anyway. That's why I was so stressed earlier."
Ivan nodded in understanding, but also within his nod was a spurt of panic. He tried to get his homework done during school, too, because at home it was the music that was too loud, or the parents that were too loud, or the shouting that was too loud, or the plain violence that was too loud.
All the while, Ivan racked his brain for an excuse. Something, anything, to explain why he couldn't go out on Saturday.
Finally, though, he'd come up with nothing, and Ivan internally threw in the towel. Although, a part of Ivan knew and felt guilty for the fact that he'd given up trying to find an excuse on purpose. As much as he knew that he didn't deserve it, he wanted to spend Saturday with Yao. He just wanted to have fun, to be a normal teenager for once.
"I have to go to the grocery store on Saturday before we can do anything, though," Yao explained. "If it's the weekend I'm usually the one who does the food shopping."
The idea that sparked in Ivan's head was instantaneous. That was it! This is it! Ivan could just go to the store with Yao! It didn't require for Ivan to spend any money, and he wouldn't be riddled with guilt because Yao needed to go to the store. Ivan would just be tagging along, not hurting anyone, and if he helped Yao find some items, then he could, at least for a moment, squish his violently raging guilty-complex.
"Well, we could just go to the store and hang out there," Ivan suggested as he tried to not look too, too excited, and at the same time he also wanted to not seem completely and utterly terrified.
"If you want to." Yao shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure if you'll like it there."
"Really? How come? Come on, it'll be fun." Ivan didn't want to sound like he was arguing, but this really was the only way he could hang out with Yao without being guilt-ridden.
"I dunno, I guess most people our age don't just go to the grocery store for fun." Yao looked at Ivan with a mildly confused expression.
"Oh, okay." Ivan could practically feel himself deflate.
"But," Yao's voice interrupted Ivan before he could get too far into his sulking, "I must admit." Yao's gentle smile grew into a playful grin, "It'd be really fun."
Ivan nodded, beckoning for Yao to go on.
"The store's pretty close, right next to the school, actually. Here, I'll write down the address, and we can meet there at one o' clock. That sound good? Or is another time better?"
"That works. But I didn't know that there's a grocery store that close to here," Ivan admitted.
"Oh, yeah, it's an Asian supermarket, so you might have not seen it before," Yao informed. "So, we'll go there, yeah?"
Ivan nodded.
Yao returned to his homework, and Ivan felt more excited and giddy than he'd ever allowed himself to feel before.
Whether it was nervousness or happiness that tingled within his gut, Ivan did not know. He only knew that right now, he was walking down the sidewalk with Yao. The two chatted, although as an adult, no matter how many times Ivan tries to, he can never remember the contents of the conversation.
After only a minute's walk, Ivan and Yao trotted into the store, and Ivan suddenly found himself overwhelmed.
The supermarket bustled with people.
Right away, when they entered the supermarket, the sight of a woman at the cash register haggling over a packet of noodles greeted Ivan. People talked and chatted and screamed at each other incessantly, and Ivan could hear every voice while at the same time his ears had numbed themselves from all the noise. He could smell spices, and see shopping carts being hurdled in every possible direction, and feel just how many people surrounded him.
If Yao wasn't holding onto his arm, Ivan would have sprinted out the store right there and then.
Ivan started to sweat. The only stores he'd grown familiar with were the dollar or convenience stores during the dead of night. Additionally, he'd never been surrounded by so many people before, much less so many loud people.
Loud people scared Ivan Braginski; they scared him very much. Because Mr. and Mrs. Braginski are loud, and Mr. and Mrs. Braginski are abusive, so subconsciously Ivan made the connection between loud and abusive people to be the same.
Ivan squinted his eyes shut and against his will weaved his fingers over his skull in order to protect his head. The store, due to all the people and noise and events and commotion, was hot, almost to an unbearable extent, but Ivan shook as if he still stood outside.
"Hey, you alright?" Yao inquired. Yao's voice sounded so soft, especially against the background of a thousand voices.
Ivan snapped out of it, nodded, then mentally slapped himself for being so nervous.
Of course no one was just going to walk up to them and slap Ivan and Ivan only in the face.
Of course no one was going to just start randomly yelling at Ivan.
Of course Mom and Dad weren't lurking among the sea of people, ready to tear Ivan physically and mentally to shreds.
Fucking die, Ivan Braginski!
Ivan stayed several steps behind Yao, just in case there existed someone in the store who wanted to crack a bat across Ivan's face.
"Okay, so I have the shopping list here." Yao, again, had somehow managed to pull Ivan out from his sea of despair, and Ivan prayed to God that Yao couldn't hear his immediate sigh of relief or his heartbeat.
"So what do you have to get first, then?" Ivan asked. He pretended that he was okay.
"Tapioca starch," Yao spouted out to the tune of Ivan's confusion.
"I'm not sure what that is," Ivan admitted.
"It's kind of like cornstarch, I guess," Yao began. "But it has more applications than just as a thickening agent. You know those little boba tea pearls?"
Ivan nodded.
"My mom told me that tapioca starch comes from the same stuff that makes those tea bubbles."
"Oh, that's quite interesting," Ivan commented as he tried to alleviate the tension within himself.
Yao picked up a shopping basket, and they walked in silence for about a minute.
Ivan stuck out like a sore thumb; he always did.
The sense of darkness around him, and the pain that constantly glazed over in his eyes, and the fear that radiated through his entire being, made Ivan stick out in all the wrong ways.
His clothes were more worn than they should have been, and he for sure looked skinnier than he should have been - especially for how tall he was - and he for sure looked sadder than he should have been.
As Yao guided Ivan to the tapioca starch, Ivan just tried his best not to close his eyes and dive under the stack of noodles.
Tapioca starch.
Dried noodles.
Shiitake mushrooms.
Bok choy.
Fish.
As the two teenagers went through the grocery list, Ivan's stomach started protesting. He felt so hungry.
Ivan tried to subtly search for a free sample, tried to find one way or another to feed his ever-growing hunger without looking suspicious, but he ultimately couldn't do much about his stomach, which had been moaning quietly to Ivan since yesterday evening.
So much food surrounded him, but he couldn't eat any of it. He couldn't buy anything, not even a bag of chips, and he wasn't willing to risk the consequences of stealing. Ivan's knees felt weak as an overwhelming sensation of dizziness overtook him.
Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Don't pass out.
With all his might, with his head not making sense and his hands shaking, with all his burdens and insecurities, Ivan pushed himself to just follow Yao.
The smell of cumin and chili oil, the loud chatter of a woman on her phone, the frying of rice over a bed of vegetables, everywhere Ivan went, everywhere Ivan looked, everything was in every place, and everyone was doing everything, and every minute and every second and every moment was hitting him square in the face. The noise and smells and sights were punching Ivan, punching him almost as hard as fists would.
"Okay, we just have to pick up some onions, and we'll be done."
Ivan visibly shot his head up as Yao's voice cut through the internal, hidden turmoil.
"Alright." Ivan attempted to not have his voice shake. He attempted to stay calm, or to at least appear that way. He attempted to pretend that everything was okay, even though every fiber within him screamed for help and comfort and food and love.
You can't be helped, Ivan. No one can help you. You don't deserve help.
Before Ivan knew it, he was being swept to the checkout. He held the basket full of groceries while Yao pulled out his wallet to pay, and Ivan found it quite very strange, but also quite very fantastic, that Yao didn't even bat an eye at paying thirty dollars in a single go. If Ivan was lucky, he'd have half that amount of money for two weeks worth of instant ramen.
Those were the things Ivan had to worry about. While his parents were off doing who the fuck knows what, Ivan was the one worrying about if all the bills were paid, worrying about how much food rested in the cupboards, worrying about if his parents were going to get a DUI that night - since no way in hell could someone in Ivan's financial situation begin to think about affording even a damn parking ticket. Somehow, even though Ivan was the child, he found himself being the parent of two grown-ups who refused to grow up.
Don't even let Ivan get started on how in the world he was going to be able to pay for college.
Ivan and Yao now stood outside the grocery store with ample time on their hands and not a lot to do.
"Thanks for coming with me," Yao told Ivan. Yao smiled.
Ivan grunted in acknowledgement, but a part of him feared that he'd actually just burdened Yao rather than helped him.
"Wanna get some ice cream of something?" Yao asked, all of a sudden.
Ivan perked up a bit, but, like how most of his dreams got shot down into the ocean, he insisted that he couldn't. "I'm broke, remember?"
"Ah, it's no big deal," Yao began. "I'll pay for it, then."
"I'm not sure if I can pay you back." Ivan shifted. He began to feel uncomfortable at the fact that he was being forced to hint at his tight finances.
"No problem," Yao replied nonchalantly. "Think of it as a thank-you for helping me carry the groceries."
Yao did not have to say another word. At the drop of a hat, Ivan agreed quicker than he should have, especially with his previous hesitance, but he couldn't help himself. Ivan's stomach hurt from hunger, and the calories in an ice cream cone could keep him going for at least another two days.
Off the two teenagers went, one of them excited for ice cream and the other one thanking the universe for allowing him to, by the end of the afternoon, have something in his stomach.
Ivan tried not to go overboard with the ice cream. He wanted more, because he honestly had no idea when he'd eat next, but he restrained himself and got a cone of chocolate ice cream. Yao bought himself a cup of vanilla, and the two of them seated themselves in the ice cream parlor and started to chat.
"So, why do you buy groceries for your mom, anyway?" Ivan asked, genuinely curious.
"She plays Mahjong every Saturday with her friends, so she just asks me to pick some things up for dinner." Yao plopped a dab of vanilla into his mouth, and Ivan mimicked the action by taking a lick of his own ice cream. Yao continued. "I mean, it's the least I can do. My mom works really hard, so she more than deserves to at least have some fun."
A pause, and the dreaded question came. Or rather, Ivan detested talking about himself to the utmost degree.
"What about you, then, Ivan?"
Ivan did his best to deflect. "What do you mean?"
"I dunno, it's just that you never talk about your family." Yao took another bite of his ice cream, and at that moment Ivan knew that Yao was blissfully unaware of the other's plight - the way Ivan wanted to keep it. The last thing Ivan wanted to do was to unload his problems onto Yao.
Ivan allowed for the world to freeze for just a moment. If he stayed silent for too long, though, then Yao would notice that something was off for sure. "Oh, really?"
Ivan knew that he was spouting bullshit, but he couldn't think of much else.
"Yeah. It sounds weird me telling this to you, but out of all the people I know, you talk about your family the least."
"Well, I guess I just don't like to talk about those things. Maybe it's a Russian thing. Nothing against my parents; I just kind of like to keep lots of things personal." More bullshit, and the lies weren't even that good, but at least they were vague enough as to prevent any potential future inconsistencies.
"Understandable."
Ivan didn't speak for a while underneath the excuse of him eating.
For a while, Ivan felt calm.
The people at school weren't staring at him in complete terror, nor were his parents terrorizing him. It was just peaceful. Ivan almost felt normal as he enjoyed both the ice cream and the time spent with Yao.
He looked so normal right now. Ivan simply looked like a guy hanging out with a friend of his, and they were eating ice cream. The ice cream parlor was their stage, and the play was just that - a fictional scenario where Ivan could afford ice cream as more than a once-a-three-years treat.
As Ivan finished his ice cream, he realized just how much he enjoyed Yao's company.
He realized just how much he enjoyed normal.
