The Approval

Blah. Blah. Blah.

White noise. White lies. A white cat rubbing against your bristly legs, shaved in the morning.

We sit in silence. Me and Miron. Miron and I. On a brand new, bright red sofa. The sweet, sickening smell of upholstery muddles my finer senses. Makes me crazy for touch.

We are new to this place, both me and her. Never done this before. Never hope to have to do this again.

Today I had called my mother, before leaving the apartment. She hadn't picked up the phone. Miron's mother had. But she had kept mum. Thus, we were on our own. Again.

There's another person in the room. Sitting at a large desk in the corner. Working on the laptop. A man. Brown hair, soft features, deep-set eyes. I stare at him from the corner of my eye. He doesn't seem to notice and Miron turns to look at me.

" Music?" As though I would say no. "Of course." And I take the earphone out of her hands.

Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper I love you. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.

Yes, I am dreaming. But it is only ten in the morning. And my nape is itching like crazy. So I'm awake, probably.

I look at the man again. He is slowly getting up, too slowly. Blue jeans teasing wood. He then walks out of the room. I avoid looking at Miron.

1 hour. We are still sitting. Me and Miron. Miron and I. But the bright red of the sofa seems to have faded...

11:30. The man comes back. He comes up. To us.

"I'm sorry. You'll have to wait a little longer."

He goes back to his desk. I stifle my laughter.

I can see Miron growing impatient. She's playing with her ring. Ring...huh...

There's a window right behind us. The sun is shining so brightly, we might look like angels from the front. Does Brown Hair think so?

I first met Miron when I was fifteen. She was older than me, but I was taller. So I didn't think she was older than me. And I didn't know she was older than me until much later. When I met her again. I was seventeen that time. She hadn't left much of an impression the first time, but this time she did.

Because this time she came in as our music teacher. Student-teacher, to be exact. She was still completing her graduation.

I remember how on my first day in her class, she had asked us to keep quiet and just look out of the window. And as we looked out of the window, she had started to sing.

Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper I love you. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.

"But it is broad daylight," someone had said. She hadn't replied. She had went on singing.

I have been passionate about music ever since then.

Another hour goes by. I glare once at the man and then at the clock. Such clowns! I'm starting to get hungry. Miron brings her lips close to my ears. "My butt pains."she whispers. I smile at her. I turn back my head. The sky looks like a whiteboard. The sun has blended with the sky. If only I had a marker...I would've drawn clouds. Storm clouds.

The man is walking towards us. Again. We look at him together. Me and Miron. Miron and I. "Would you like something to eat?"he asks. I roll my eyes. Miron laughs and says yes. The man walks out of the room and comes back in within a few minutes. Two paper bags in his hands.

"Thank you." Miron answers. So sweetly. Even now. Even though I know she doesn't mean it at all.

The man walks back to his desk. Smiling? I look inside the packet.

Pretzels! The man brought pretzels! I glare at him . He matches my gaze.

But the pretzels are good to eat.

12:30. Oh? I had it had been over an hour. Seems like I was wrong. I am impatient, huh? So much for my namesake. Patience Agbabi. Patience Ray has failed her.

I take the empty packet from Miron's hand and scrunch it into a ball. Then I toss it into the waste paper basket. Such great tip. I should've played some sport. Music isn't getting me nowhere...

Miron and I, we both are musicians. I play the violin, she the piano. She doesn't sing for a living though. "This instrument doesn't cost much."she says" I'm okay with lending it out for free."

I haven't had much success with the violin." You're young."Miron comforts me." You'll get there."

Maybe I will. But what if I don't?

Then I'd have to go back. Back to the obscure suburb I grew up in. Back to Virginia. Back to the life I've always wanted to escape.

Maybe I won't have to. Maybe I will make it. Or maybe Miron will not let me go. She is rather rich, afterall.

"Patience?" I snap back into the grey room. "Yes, Miron? What is it?"

Miron looks at me. Straight into my muddy eyes. Straight into my muddled head. "The man said only ten minutes now."she whispers. And then smiles.

I turn my head. Oh. Brown Hair is gone.

"Miron"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"What are you talking about?"she nearly screams.

Ah. No. I hadn't meant to agitate her.

"Ah, it's not as though I don't want to. But for all I know, I might never make it."

"You are digressing"

"Heh!"

"Don't think about it now."

"Ok."

The man has come back. I can see a paper in his hand. And a pen. Tock-tick-tock-tick, my heart beats with the clock.

"It is ready."he says.

I sign the paper. Miron signs it after me.

"There!"the man says, in a sing-song voice. "I, Jordan Ray, brother of Patience Ray, pronounce her and Miron Clarke, legally wedded spouses."He finishes with a smile.

I smile. So like Jordan. So like Brown Hair.

Miron pulls herself towards me.

"And now, the legally wedded spouses may kiss."