Thursday, April 19, 2012

Chapter 7: The offer

Chapter 7: The offer (Wattpad)

Thursday, 7am 

“Ave, I know martial arts. I could teach you.”
“No, thanks.”

Theresa shifted the weight of her bag to her other shoulder, “You could teach the Boy E some extra lessons.” 

“I could help with that.” Cassie shrugged.

“I’ll get our knife.” Lexi added.

I laughed out loud, “You guys. It’s fine, really.” I said to them as we walked on the hallway. People were still cramming around, putting things on their lockers and doing last minute assignments. I really can’t see the sense in cramming when the bell’s about to ring at any minute. 

I used to go to my room alone, but this morning, they insisted on going with me. To be truthful, I like the idea; I’m not really looking forward to seeing Warner today. Ugh. I can’t even stand to think of his name.

“Here we are, Ave.”

This is the classroom I don’t like the most.

“He looks pissed off.” Lexi observed with her brow creasing. She turned to us as Theresa said, “He looks like he ate something.” 

“I think that’s a good thing.” We smothered our chuckles right then. Cassie’s so pitiless. I looked at the person we’re talking about. 

He really does look pissed off – he was scowling at his English book and his shoulders were slumped, like he just received bad news.

God must’ve been listening to my prayers.

“Avery, I think you’ll be alright today.” Nicole said. The others muttered their same opinion. A smile appeared on my lips as they waved goodbye and I walked into the room. I slowly sat down on my chair and made myself comfortable, facing the window. The other students were already pouring in and the noise started to go up as well, but I’m getting what I’ve wished for last night – peace and quiet. Simply peace and quiet. 

As I watched the view outside, I saw the student athletes jogging – jogging! – passing by and disappear through a curve in the pavement. Well, that’s just ruined the perfection of my good mood. Anything that relates to running is basically not good for my temperament. I remembered what happened just this summer. Gah. I hate bringing that up. I blinked once and I felt as though I’ve gone back in time.

It was the MHS fun run. The school actually has different ones annually, but just this one time, I decided to join, seeing as it would help a lot in my application for the said school – especially in my Gym grades. I never really excel at sports.

I’ve been running for over an hour, but it feels like damned minutes. I feel so, so tired. People around me are still running with energy together with their friends. When I get home, I’m going to sleep like never before. I slowed from a jog to a walk, feeling the perspiration go through my face and my back. I breathed hard, wiping my arm through my forehead. 

I took a deep breath even though I was bone tired and even as I felt my legs would be paralyzed for days. Then I saw the finish line, not far from where I was. I ran faster, filled with sudden energy and endurance. Almost there. Just a bit more and it would be over.

The next thing I knew, I was hit by something painfully solid from behind and I fell to the ground. 

God, that hurt. I groaned out loud and sat up, putting a hand gingerly on my head. People around me didn’t even glance; they just continued running. That really, really hurt. I turned and found another person sprawled on the ground and he seemed to be in pain as well. He sat up and looked at me. His eyes were the bluest I’ve ever seen and they were bright, yet apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking! I just hit you and – oh. Here.” He offered his hand to me and I took it, standing up. 

“It’s okay. We’d better get going.”

“Oh, wait! I didn’t catch your name. What did you say it was again?”

“I didn’t. Really, it’s fun. We have to get going.”

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” the guy asked, his blue eyes full of mirth. What the hell? Did he just say that?

“Uhm, sorry?”

“Oh, you don’t?”

“I have no idea why you’re – ”

“How about second sight?”

“Are you okay? I think – ”

“Do you?”

This person must be on drugs. I replied cautiously, “The first sight would be more sensible.”

“Well, do you believe at love at first sight or should I bump you again?”

My eyes widened. This stranger is really crazy, he really is. Do the students at MHS act like that as a code or something? He offered his hand for me to shake.

“My name is Travis. And you?”

Oh, God. I hate memories. And jogging. Oh, no, wait. Hating jogging memories would be more appropriate. I had no idea back then that he would be my seatmate and everything else. Back then, he was just the weirdest stranger I have ever met. 

I pulled out my ballpen and notebook as I listened to the ever energetic Kristine Handler interrogate students on their opinions about the school’s popularity ladder. She’s the most explosive friend I have ever had, though we’re not close. And I just managed to avoid her schemes fair enough, and I intend to keep it that way. 

We all heard the clanking of five-inch heels striding into the room and instantly, everyone settled down in their seats, their notebooks and pens out just like me.

Mrs. Jones is one of those scary teachers. I mean she really is; when you’ve done something wrong, she absolutely throws it in your face and expects you not to make the same mistake again. Ever.

I see her logic.

“Today we’ll be talking about genetics. Copy everything I will write and we’ll discuss it later one by one. If I hear someone say one syllable, you all better get ready.” She didn’t pause to relish the look on our faces and started scribbling on top of the board without any books or notes in her hand. She’s got everything memorized inside her brain, stored safely.

She’s actually me favorite teacher.

I looked down at my notebook and started copying with my lips pursed when felt my seatmate grab my arm silently and stuffed a piece of paper in my hand. After that, I mean right after that, he went back to copying notes.

Is he bloody kidding me?

I scribbled more things on my notebook before placing the folded paper on top, opening it discreetly. The page was obviously torn off from his notebook and written on the first line was – 

Can I ask you a favor?

My head tilted back in shock in slight surprise and I faced him. He wasn’t even looking at me. 

Favor? Not bloody likely.

I scribbled on his paper furiously, Not interested. Go away.

I passed the paper to him and continued copying. Just who the hell does he think he is? I thought he won’t bug me today, ugh. So much for expectations. I almost made a hole on my notebook as I dotted the first paragraph with unnecessary force. I brushed my bangs away with my left hand and Warner stashed the same paper on my palm. I gritted my teeth and stifled a sigh. He’s such a stubborn human creature. I looked at the paper.

I’m serious. Please, I need this.

Gah. Since when does he need anything from me? He is such a little – oh. Maybe it’s a project or reviewer. I licked my lips and mused. Yes, that would be it. I mean, what else can he need from me? I wrote in reply, Do you need help with a project? Or a reviewer for the tests on Friday?

I passed the paper again and resumed writing. I know I should just ignore him, but I know I would receive incessant poking when I don’t write a reply and I need notes. He caught my wrists and gave the paper to me again. I scowled because he was smiling. Smiling like he was about to laugh and I rolled my eyes at him and read the next message,

You’re funny. I don’t need help for something like that. I’m fine. This one’s different.

Different? My shoulders slumped in defeat. I just want to get this over with so I can take notes properly. I scribbled underneath, 


I laid the paper on the space between our desks and I faced the board. I really don’t have any inkling on what he could possibly want from me, but whatever. I just want lunchtime to save me. That’s my mantra ever since. He gave me the paper once again and I resignedly opened it, but when I looked at what he wrote, I had a heart attack.

I must be dying.

I must be.

Can you be my girlfriend?

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