Sunday, again.

Devin never liked Sundays. But, today is an exception; he has plans with Cerise. Speaking of plans, he never fixed the specifics of their meet-up scheduled today. Sticking his toothbrush in his mouth, he leaves his bathroom for his bedroom, reaching for his phone that lies charging on the mantel.

He types in a message for her:

| When & where |

| ?? |

Within seconds of his sending the text, Devin's phone buzzes with Cerise's answer:

| Oh right |

| How about Thomas Beach again? |

Devin replies:

| Done |

| 5pm? |

Devin is downstairs in the kitchen, preparing his breakfast of pancakes when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. Wiping his hand on the dishtowel, he pulls out the device to see an incoming call from Cerise.

"Hey," he says, upon receiving the call.

"Hi," comes her sweet, shy voice.

"What's up?"

"I was wondering if you're busy today? Like, right now?"

"No." Devin feels his heart swell slightly, anticipating what is to come. "Why?"

"I thought maybe we could hang out now?" she asks tentatively, quickly adding, "only if you're willing to. I mean five is fine, too. Just... just that since nobody's home and I have nothing to do..."

A smile marks itself over Devin's lips. "Are you," he says, tone laced with playful suggestiveness, "inviting me to your house, Cherry?"

"Huh?"

"I usually prefer getting to know the girl well," he elaborates, "you know, to understand her, take her out, establish some trust with her before... before sneaking into her home when her guardians are gone, and..." his pause is strategic, filled with an unsaid innuendo.

"Oh?" says Cerise, like a question. "Oh!" Now there's realization, followed by apologetic denial, "I didn't--I really didn't mean it like that. I was only--"

Devin chuckles, cutting her flustered rant short. Tucking his phone between his head and his shoulder, he uses his free hand to flip the last pancake over. "I know, I was just pulling your leg," he tells her.

"Right, um... I knew that."

Unable to keep from chuckling again, Devin says, "you're so innocent, Cherry. It's refreshing." There's no response from the other end, just silence. He's certain she is biting her lower lip timidly. After a while, he fills the silence, "do you have a laptop?"

"Uh, yes. Why?"

"Mine crashed. Do you have Netflix?"

"I do... but, I haven't used it. It's not an active account so I've gotta check."

"Don't worry about that," says Devin. "We'll use my ID. Just bring your laptop along, okay?"

"Alright."

"So, see you in Thomas Beach in..." Devin checks his watch, "half an hour?"

"Yeah, okay," Cerise agrees.

"Cool."

With a softly said 'bye', Cerise hangs up, leaving Devin staring at her contact details saved on his phone, smiling to himself while the pancake lies forgotten on the skillet, burning.

After finishing his breakfast, Devin takes a quick shower, and readies himself. As he goes back downstairs, he is met with his father standing at the foot of the stairs. "Where are you off to?" the man asks, and although his face is expressionless, his tone is unmistakably hostile.

"Ray." Devin acknowledges him, reflecting his stony demeanor. "You're sober," he notes. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Don't fucking talk to me like that!"

Devin rolls his eyes. "Here we go..."

"And don't you dare call me Ray. I'm your father," Ray asserts aggressively.

"Oh, are you?" Devin can barely keep himself collected as he coolly cross-questions, "what, pray tell, have you done for me that a father does for his son?"

Seething, Ray says through clenched teeth, "wouldn't you wanna know, you thankless cunt..."

"I do wanna know," Devin clarifies with as much venom in his voice as he can muster without losing his calm. "Or I wouldn't have asked."

Ray grunts, his left eye twitches, a vein in his temple bulges like a maggot growing underneath his skin. Suddenly, the man launches himself up the stairs like a rabid dog out to maul, decking Devin on the left cheek, hard. His other hand comes up fisted, too, but this time, Devin is ready and catches the punch in the crook of his elbow. With his free hand, he punches his father on the nose, sending him rolling down the five steps.

Strangely satisfied on seeing Ray clutching his nose, fetal on the floor, groaning in pain, Devin descends to pause beside him and spit at him. "You stay the fuck away from me," he warns him. "You're not my goddamn father. He died with mum."

With that, Devin takes the keys to his truck from the dining table and leaves the hate-plagued house, slamming the door behind him with the last of his anger. Getting into the Chevvy, he revs the old engine, speeding out of the dilapidated conurbation, tyres screeching dangerously on the asphalt. All he wants now is to get away from all these things he loathes, because all he can feel is hatred and rage.

As Devin draws further away from everything and closer to Thomas Beach, however, his emotions transmogrify. The rage in him dissipates, his resentment crawls back into the bleak recesses of his mind; he feels lighter, and somewhat alleviated, liberated. And when he sees Cerise sitting on the divider by the beach, he feels joy surge zealously through his veins, like a caged bird left to fly.

Parking his truck in front of her, he kills the engine and steps out. Cerise beams at him. "Hi," she says, standing up and coming forward to greet him. She slows, her smile dissolving into an anxious frown. "What happened to your face?"

"What?" Devin asks, confused. In response, Cerise lifts a hand to hold his chin. Devin silently watches her, still unsure of what she is talking about, as she turns his face to the side and examines his profile. Again, he queries, "what is it?"

"God..." Cerise breathes. "Your cheek's bruising." Devin grimaces when she touches the spot; she begins worrying. "How'd this happen? Does it hurt too much?"

"Stings a bit, but I'm fine," Devin says.

His reassurance goes unheard by Cerise, because she's still fussing over him, gingerly tracing the bruise with her index finger and talking about cold compress and ruptured capillaries. "What happened?" she asks again.

"Nothing," Devin replies, grabbing her hand hovering over his face. That seems to get her attention off his bruise; her eyes meet his, full of concern. "I'm fine," he promises, a little sternly.

"Um, okay..."

Devin finally lets go of her hand, despite not wanting to. Cerise is avoiding his gaze, reverting to her demure self. "So," Devin says, just to change the course of things before they get anymore awkward, "did you bring your laptop?"

"Yep." She points back at the divider, leaning against which is a satchel. "Where are we gonna watch it? Out here?"

"Yes." Devin opens the Chevrolet's door, lifting the seat on his side to reveal a supply trunk. "Lemme just fix some things."

***

Cerise stares at him, wondering what he's up to as he rummages through the trunk awhile. Then, he straightens, arms around trailing blankets. Flashing her a quick smile, which Cerise gladly returns, he goes to the back of the pick-up and deposits his haul in the load. Catching up with what he has in mind, she decides to help Devin.

Once they're both satisfied with the arrangement of blankets into a cushiony seat on the load platform, Cerise takes her satchel and climbs up, comfortably sitting with her back against the frontal body of the Chevrolet. Devin joins her shortly after, bringing two cans of soda with him, and sits next to her. Taking the can he offers her, Cerise turns the laptop on.

"You do like soda, right?" questions Devin. "That's all I had besides beer, and I assumed you don't drink alcohol."

"I like soda," confirms Cerise. "And I haven't had alcohol yet... but I'm not the kind that won't ever drink it either. I do wanna try wine, and champagne... and whiskey, and those other things."

"All those other things, huh?" Devin is smiling cheekily.

"Hey, no! Not the way you're trying to put it," Cerise retorts, sure that her ears might be beet-red but hoping it's not conspicuous. "Let's keep it reserved to just drinks, okay?"

"If you say so..."

Keeping herself occupied with her laptop just so she won't have to make eye contact with Devin, Cerise types in her password and starts Netflix, turning the laptop to Devin so he can log in with his account. That done, he loads Earthlings and the two settle down to watch the movie as it starts.

In the very first quarter itself, Cerise has to avert her eyes and cover her mouth because of the violence. A few minutes more of that and she cannot take it anymore. Both her hands over eyes, she urgently appeals to Devin, "can we stop? Can we stop, please? I hate it. I don't wanna watch this!"

Refusing to look at her screen until the tab is closed, Cerise only opens her eyes when Devin says, "it's okay. I've closed it."

"Shit," Cerise mutters, unable to get all that she'd seen out of her head. "That's barbaric..."

"That's what we, humans, are. Absolutely fucking barbaric," Devin says, with so much mordacity that Cerise almost feels ashamed of being a human herself. "It happens every fucking day, all across the world, to trillions and trillions of animals... it's a fucking holocaust out there for them."

"God... I--I didn't know." Cerise, saddened by the truth of what she saw in Earthlings, feels like she has been a murderer her whole life because she likes to eat chicken and cheese.

"A lot of people don't..." Devin says gently, as if vaguely implying that she isn't entirely at fault. "A lot of people do, but just don't care. It's fucked up."

"Yeah, it seriously is..." It's easier now for Cerise to understand why Devin is such a misanthropist; he has unarguable pillars to support his abhorrence towards humanity, and Cerise senses vestiges of them squirming into her system and taking root. All those cows in the movie didn't deserve to be treated like that...

"If you come down to it, we are the root cause of every bullshit that the world faces right now. I mean, look at corruption, and pollution, and climate change... racism, sexism, fascism, terrorism, everything is us. Just us." Devin looks like he'll eliminate humanity at the very moment if only he had the ability to. With acrid bitterness, he continues, "there's really no hope for us, but I'd like to think that I give some of those poor animals hope by not participating in their exploitation, you know..."

Cerise has nothing to say to him, so she silently stays by his side, taking him and that pure goodness as a human being that he hides underneath that dark, hateful shell in, just in case this idiosyncracy of him is never revealed in the future again. He's simply beautiful, to her. Keenly aware of her side pressed against his, some protestation inside her tells her not to move, causing her to maintain a stiff posture.

A lapse of quietude passes between them, with the waves in the distance still having their unabated conversation with the Earth and the winds. Cerise keeps growing more and more uncomfortable - sitting this close to Devin, the fact that they are literally cozied up against each other. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that Devin has laid his head back and closed his eyes. Feeling like she should say something, she inhales a deep breath, preparing the words in her mind. Then she ventures out with, "hey, Devin?"

"Hmm?"

Feeling his eyes on her, she takes to looking up at the sky, where the sun would've been climbing, bright and blinding, had it not been so cloudy. Currently, the solar star is reduced to these sublime silver slivers of haloed illumination behind the murk of rainclouds. "I want to be vegan..."

"Well, Earthlings has that effect on people, but... are you sure?"

"Yes, I can't think of chicken without this image of a wriggling, screeching bird being put in a grinder alive," Cerise tells him. "But, I need help because I have absolutely no idea how to begin."

"I'll help you." The happiness in his voice is clear and lying bare, untouched by any of his pessimism - so pure. "Jesus, yes! I'll help you."

His enthusiasm warms Cerise; at least there's one thing in the world he isn't cynical about and repulsed by, something he's passionate and positive about. His love for this lifestyle reminds her of her own love for poetry. She smiles at him, receiving a swoon-worthy, gorgeous one in return which manages to send powerful, pleasant tingles throughout her system.

***