Bubbles in my Tea

Cathy sipped from her glass of sweet green tea and leafed through a volume of essays, the bangle bracelets on her wrists clinking like faerie bells with each movement. She found the slim vinyl folder she had been looking for and sat down in an overstuffed green chintz sofa, and pulled the red and grey knit cap over her black wavy hair.

Arabel was by the window, her guitar out of it's case, and a cup of steaming espresso on a table next to her. Her black stiletto boots tapped out a rhythm as she strummed away. Arabel was a huge fan of a band called the Sex Pistols, who had released their debut album not too long ago. There was something intriguing about the rather awkward voice that belonged to John Lydon.

Cathy tapped her huge silver platform boots to the music of Arabel's guitar, but she glanced at the yellow and pink record sleeve next to Arabel's drink with a look of disgust. Cathy didn't understand what was so great about punk music. The Sex Pistols weren't that great, besides. They just didn't have any sence of rhythm.

Cathy's idol in music had died some years ago, long before Cathy was old enough to actually appreciate her music better. Janis Joplin had really been something! Cathy's brother Jacob was more into bands like Led Zeppelin and the Doors. Cathy had actually gone to see the California Jam concerts with Arabel as a Sweet 16th present from her parents. That had been a really fun time, too!

Arabel shook back her hair, dyed a strange shade of green, which didn't work well when her real hair colour was dark red. Her black leather pants and jacket made her look something like a bandit or something, Cathy mused as she sipped her drink. Arabel looked up at her friend and smiled.

"That any good?" Arabel asked, nodding at the small folder in Cathy's hands. Cathy nodded and flipped through the pages, and Arabel returned to her guitar playing. A couple of boys walked through the room, and Arabel looked up and smiled at them as they passed, then returned to the sheet music she had propped up between a couple of heavy books.

Cathy could live the rest of her life without silly boys. She hated them with a passion. Arabel didn't mind them too much, as long as the flirting didn't get too silly. Cathy's only ambition was to become a poet and live in the mountains with a dog and a couple of horses for company. Arabel planned to get into music, someday.

This day was pretty important because the next day meant that the two girls would depart for colleges in different states. Cathy was heading to an art school in Chicago, and Arabel was off to Harvard University, all at her father's insistence. Cathy and Arabel had been good friends since the age of thirteen, though they had first met at the age of eleven.

Arabel didn't give a shit about being in an Ivy League school. Being a lawyer sounded like a pretty stiff business, anyway. Arabel planned to take her guitar with her to relieve the boredom of being in an institution she didn't give a damn for. Cathy was the lucky one, Arabel thought grimly.

Despite the fact this was their final day together for a long time, neither of the girls was being sentimental or emotional about it. Moving on was just something that happened to people as a matter of course. Arabel stretched out her hand for her cup of espresso. It smelled aromatic, and tasted delicious. Who cared if it was bitter without sugar? Arabel didn't like sugary stuff, and she hated softer music that lacked both an edge and a message.

Cathy sipped her sweet tea, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. Bubbles in tea were good fortune, her mother had said to her a couple years ago, before she had died. Cathy's dad had since moved on with Korie, who was only a few years older than Cathy. She was looking forward to life in Chicago. Seattle was too wet for her liking.