Friday, April 27, 2012

Chapter 25: Transition

Chapter 25: Transition (Wattpad)

One week with Travis seemed to pass in a blur.

On Monday, we went back to school and spent the time when we aren’t with a teacher or dozing off secretly on our desks taking ridiculous pictures of each other from his Polaroid and got sent out of the classroom by all teachers, and Mrs. Jones said that we were “ridiculously in-love lovebirds you disturbs the progress in class.” Which is really accurate, bless her gifted mind. We came home last that night and ha gave me a mind-blowing kiss on our front door which would undoubtedly be replaced by another.

Tuesday, we spent time with my friends again and took their pictures as well. We had lunch together and Travis still fit in with all of them even when they asked him to remove his shirt for them to see if he really has abs. 

And we know the answer to that, don’t we?

And if that wasn’t enough, the next day, he came to my house ridiculously early and the second I woke up, his face was inches from me, smiling as he said, “What if we get hypothermia for today and don’t go to class?” True to his word, we spent the entire day on the mall – three of them, actually – and he brought out his credit card and told me to go crazy and he’ll pay.

Life couldn’t be more blissful at that moment. I brought things not only for myself, but for my whole clan. Sadly, we were chased by a herd of obsessed paparazzi and much to the civilians’ confusion, we ran up and down the escalators and brought things at random for disguises. Even a moustache. The point is, we got out safely without being squashed or forced to pose or something tragic like that.

I never wanted it to end. Never.

These past few days, I haven’t been accepting others’ plea for assistance for anyone’s projects or homework – mainly because Travis threatened anyone who dared – and a permanent smile is on my lips. It just never fades and I love it. I don’t braid my hair anymore when I go to school and I gave up trying to own another cellphone. A permanent cellphone, atleast. Even my friends said that my aura’s different, and they’re praising the changes like the work of an angel. I have that angel. His name is Travis.

On Thursday, after classes, he slipped past Paul and followed me home in a cab. After almost dying of laughter from the fact that it was the first time he had ever ridden a taxi, I let him inside the house, which was vacated by my cousins yesterday, much to their dismay, we ate granola bars up on my room while we pasted on what we now call ‘decrepit little box’ from everything we had taken the past few days – from the classroom, under the desks and when he was carrying me piggyback style on the school’s greenhouses.

And also Lexi, Cassie, Theresa and Nicole’s pictures together with us from yesterday and when we went shopping. This was the ridiculous part; we were wearing absolutely everything we like that catches our eye, which was pretty much all of it. My favorite picture was the one with the both of us in the dressing room – the saleslady had no idea, praise her – with Travis wearing a tuxedo and me on a blue ball gown. Then we tried on Ray Bans and snapped the picture at random.

When I snapped the box close, he surprised me by getting out the paint from my cabinet – he memorized my room now, come to think of it – and started getting the brushes out.

“Are you on drugs?”

“You’re worse than any kind of drug, you know.” He said, and then he told me about the pair of weird rings he found out about. Apparently, they’re colorless and pretty thick. But the magic was on the inside; when you paint on the inner part of the ring, no matter how small a dot, it will magnify on the outside. It was a perfect circle, but one side is particularly bulging and I guess that’s where the magnifying part is. The next second he pulled out a pack of colorless, identical rings and held out a brush for me.

“I figured since none of us are professional artists, I’d be stupid to buy only two. And, most importantly, I’m with a genius.”  He winked and half-laughing, I got the brush from him and we set to work on the bed. I didn’t even bother with the sheets – a little stain won’t kill anyone. We should’ve known it was really hard, though – what an understatement – but we had our beautiful output three hours later. Yes, three – surprise, surprise!

Mine was really nice – I am not bragging; it really is – considering it was hours in the making. In the course of those three hours, there grew a pile of failed attempts to personalize the rings, which is on my desk. It was already splattered with multi-colored ink and it looks…flashy. 

The first thing I did with my ring was to paint everything on the inside with nail polish – Travis the copycat, did it, too – and I tried my best to write my name in neat cursive with the bluest ink I found. Then with slow, but sure strokes, I drew and arrow with blank ink across the name in an abstract-ish kind of way. I let dry for twenty minutes and then covered the whole thing with white, for a neat background. Another twenty minutes and I’m looking at my handiwork.

Grinning as if I’d won a car, I showed it to him and received a sweet kiss that turned me to melting honey.

We exchanged rings – I know! It’s so cliché, like a wedding, but I don’t care – and saw that he did exactly the same thing that I did, except that he used caramel for his name. I stared at the Travis on the ring, written in caramel with his handwriting and gave him a huge grin and a simple kiss on the cheek. I’m not that good at batting my eyelashes, so I’ll just end up embarrassing myself.

I put the ring on my finger and never removed it. After that we painted each other’s face silly. 

Then came forward the next day – Friday.

“Is anybody even listening to me?”

“Present, sir.” I giggled to Mr. Saxon as my hands played with Travis’ under the table. The professor looked around the chaotic classroom and sighed, sweeping a hand through his curly hair. “I give up.” He muttered as he walked and flopped himself down his chair. He looked at the students with an apathetic, hopeless look in his eyes as papers flew through the open area, people talked at the top of their voices and everything was just in an ordered mess. It’s fantastic.

“D’you think he needs help?” I asked Travis with an eyebrow raised. Honestly, I feel sorry for him. Travis pursed his lips and waved to the professor, who stared back dejectedly. Clasping his hand with mine, he stood up. “Definitely.” 

We made our way to the distraught teacher and stood in front of his desk, trying to send him good vibes. He looked up and a faint smile appeared on his lips, “Atleast the two of you are still normal.” I smothered a violent chuckle at what he said and just listened to Travis, “Anything we could help you with, sir?”

“Can you bring Ms. Handler back to normal?”

We all looked at Kristine, who was interviewing some of our freaked-out classmates, utterly convinced that she looks and has the great potential to be Larry King.

“I think that’s beyond our means.” I answered as graciously as I could. But even if Kristine would do more than that – and I’m sure she will – I wouldn’t have her any other way. I’ve grown quite fond of her, actually. Isn’t that terrific? And to think I was afraid of her before. Tsk.

“I thought so. Then there’s nothing at all. But I appreciate it, Ms. Allton.  Mr. Warner.” He nodded to us. He really does look dismal, but then a sudden thought occurred to him. “You tow will have additional points straight to the card. For conduct.” Then he turned to me and smiled genuinely, “Not that you’d need anymore, Avery.” I grinned back at him and said, “You can give my part to Travis.” I shrugged when professor gave me the not-again look and Travis groaned. “He’ll need it.” I smiled innocently as he rolled his eyes and faced Sir Saxon, “You sure you don’t want our help, sir? We still have half an hour. No announcements or anything?” 

“There is one.” He sighed wearily and got a printed piece of paper and handed it over to us. “Maybe they’ll listen to you. God knows I’ve had enough.” Together, Travis and I read the contents and immediately froze, then read the whole thing over again.

“Sunday? This Sunday?”

“I know. It’s a little bit of shock. The principal probably couldn’t contain the excitement.” 

“But the school dance is supposed to be two weeks away.” Travis grumbled as my mind flew away. Sunday? It seems so sudden. And couldn’t they just wait a little longer? I don’t like this.

“So, should we, uhm, tell them?” I looked gazes with Travis and faced the room, which, if was even possible, became worse. I could already see two couples making out in the corner and – couldn’t they atleast have the decency to go to a private – aaargh. Look who’s talking, kissing under bloody trees.

Travis snapped his fingers. “I have an idea. Can you call your friend Kris? Maybe she can interview us.” I smiled at him hugely and with his arm around me, we went to the middle of the room but before we could utter a single word, Kristine startled us with a gigantic, “Hello!” she grinned at the both of us and just…grinned.

“Hi, Kris.” 

“You two are really cute, I swear.” She was still grinning like crazy, but that coming from her is a small miracle – she almost seemed normal. Almost.

I smiled affectionately in return, “Thank you. And we really have to say something to everyone and it would help if…if, you know – ”

“It would be really nice if you’d help us get the message across.” Travis smoothly cut in and ducked as a book flew above his head. Irritation stabbed at me – that was a bloody Trig book and its hardbound. You don’t just throw books like that, it’s just plain disastrous.

“Hey,” I called out to Ryan Bailey, “Could you please watch it?”

The rest of the boys have me impressed stares and chorused “Oooh.”

That was overkill.

I blushed furiously as Travis chuckled and proudly put an arm around me. ”Yeah, Ry, watch it.” Bailey said a rushed apology and went back to his business. I instantly faced Travis, “That was overkill. I didn’t mean to be so snappy – ”

“Of course you didn’t.” he winked and returned to Kris, explaining to her. I honestly forgot that she was here, much to my chagrin. Before we even saw her agree, she took us by the arm and rushed to the podium where the teacher’s desk is and she didn’t seem to mind the mess in our classroom as she shouted at the top of her lungs, 

“You slimy gits! We have an announcement!”

Everyone’s heads turned and when they saw who was on the podium, hushed silence followed, but I could feel the impatience boiling just below the surface.

“Uhmm…” I started saying, fiddling with the paper in front of me, “So we just found out that the Masquerade was transferred and it’s going to be this Sunday, instead of two weeks away – ” I shrieked as a notebook came flying out of nowhere and I instantly ducked and it hit the board instead. Oh, God. That was close.
Instant pandemonium met my eyes as everyone complained about having appointments and just what the principal was playing at. My heart was still pounding when Travis gripped my shoulder and asked, annoyed, “You okay? People here are so stupid.” I just nodded and I saw him pick up the notebook and read the owner’s name. The next second, the same notebook came flying once again and landed squarely on the person’s forehead, who turned crimson as everyone laughed.

“Travis.” I complained. He sent me a ‘what?’ look and faced to poor owner, “You know, you should think twice before throwing things at my little genius like that.” Laughter rippled through the room and short applause followed together with the whistle blowing.


“You should – why don’t we just go down?” I told him under my breath and led the way back to our seats as everyone – thankfully – went back to their own matters. The moment I sat down, I grumbled to him, “You show off too much.”

“Well, you show too little.” He shrugged, “And of all people, you have a right to brag, you know.” 

“I don’t like to brag.”

“That’s why I’m doing it for you. Now about that school dance.” He crossed his leg toward me and faced me with an intense stare with his brow slightly creased, not saying anything. I licked my lips and shifted uncomfortably and his piercing blue eyes flickered with amusement. I somehow recovered my ability to speak, “So, are you going?” The corner of his lips curved and he slowly raised an eyebrow. He smiled enticingly, “Going with?”

“With, uhm, me?” I responded feebly. I feel like shriveling up into a ball and that’s just stupid. I heard his laugh right then and he kissed me on the cheek. Grinning, he said, “Why the hell are you so scared of me sometimes? And yes, I want to go with you. That’s why Mom brought you the dress.” My eyes widened.

“What exactly does your Mom know about me?”

He took a deep breath and said uncertainly, “Yeah, about that. Since tomorrow is a Saturday, she – she asked you to go to the beach with us.”

I stared.

“It’s not that bad! Dad will be there, too. And then there’s me. I won’t leave you and it won’t be awkward, I promised. She really wants to meet you.” I blinked at what he just said and found something odd.

“What about your Dad? Doesn’t he want to meet me?”

 He bit his lip and said, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to meeting you, but he’s really busy so he didn’t really exactly say it…”

“You’re lying.” A stab of panic git me and my heart slammed. My mind instantly scrambled for an excuse to be absent on the said beach activity. An alarming image came to my mind of Travis’ Dad eyeing me coldly…and shouting at me… 

“Avery.” He took my hands and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb. “My father is anti-social. It’s just that. He goes away for business meetings and not for parties. I’m sure there’s some psychology thingy that you know about his behavior. And the whole point of going to the beach was that they could finally meet you.” He stared at me searchingly and said, “Please come with me?”

My brow furrowed and I gritted my teeth, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re cheating.”

“Please?” he begged me for another five minutes and – can he just – who can blame me?!

“Fine,” I sighed. “But only because I’m madly in love with you.”

Delight filled his eyes as he laughed and kissed both of my hands, “That’s the spirit. I knew you’re always ready to comply.”

“That’s because you’re cheating and I’m biased.” I pouted.

As the afternoon slowly crept us by, we had no idea.

I wished I knew, that if I’d turn down the invitation to spend time with him tomorrow, this Friday afternoon would be the last time I would look at him the same way ever again.

With every fiber of my being, I’m thankful I said yes.

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