Epilogue

Epilogue (Wattpad)

Guilt.

Travis had been living with it a year now, after that drastic chain of events took place for the both of them. A whole year, yet Travis had never let go, never forgot. And he never will.

He stared at the same decrepit white wall. White is the color for purity, yet the hue seemed to mock at him everytime. But it was better than looking at the ring on his finger. He never removed it, but it only causes sheer torture when he gives it the slightest glance.

Everyone was petrified when they found out. And they all blamed him for everything. Every single thing. The burning expressions from everyone as they looked at Avery through the small glass door were agony to him. Every single one of them put the blame on his shoulders; her parents, her friends, and her family all looked at him differently. They sent him silent, but hurt, angry and betrayed looks.

Right after everyone had found out, Travis’ world shattered like brittle glass. Evidences point that Avery, while still being held captive, got hold of the rapist’s knife and stabbed him multiple times – forty-two times. She’d been unconscious in the hospital for many days; days where every loved one visited, took care and guarded over her. But when Travis walks in, the tension in the air rises, speaking louder than words. Everyone prayed that she would wake up.

When she did, they regretted every prayer.

A psychiatrist said that this was normal, but to Travis’ mind, it’s not. She would come back to him, surely. She would, wouldn’t she? 

But two days later, they transferred her to the asylum. She kept screaming every single day and she would not let any male approach her – only Travis.

He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse. Every person who attempts to go near her to talk or calm her down – even her parents – always comes out hurt and injured and she shouted at them. Only he could come on her and when he did, she would bury herself in his arms and succumb to heartbreaking tears, murmuring nonsensical words over and over. 

They had so much love together, but so little time. He’d do anything he could to give them more time. Anything. She had her whole life ahead of her and yet she’s here. Slowly wilting. Not even in control of her mind. This shouldn’t have happened to her. A person like her deserves more, so much more.

She deserves to be happy, secure and everything good in the world. She should be with him.

But she isn’t. She’s here. 

Chapter 29: Toward the end

Chapter 29: Toward the end (Wattpad)

Part I: 

I blinked my eyes open and drew the blanket higher up to my chin. I seemed to be half-asleep, but my mind persistently whispered to me that a blanket was out of place. Odd. The sunlight streaming through the windows did a bit of disorientation to my eyes, but then my mind shouted that a window is definitely off set. Groaning sleepily, I rubbed my eyes and tried to make sense of my surroundings.

My bedroom.

I slowly sat up and looked around. Next, I looked at myself and tried to remember if I put on the nightgown I was wearing. Surely, I did wear that. But the funny thing is, I can’t recall at all. How the hell can I not remember if I wore something or not?

I suddenly heard a soft knocking and I said in a sleepy voice, “Come in.” I wasn’t at all surprised when Mom came in, smiling pleasantly. What caught me off guard was the tray of food she was carrying.

“Breakfast in bed?” I asked good-humoredly as she approached me with a chuckle. She had her hair in a bun today, so that must mean that she has to go to the bank. I sat up gingerly as she set the tray in front of me. 

“We figured that you’ll be really groggy and grumpy when you wake up, so your Dad prepared this.” 

I blinked. “Dad?” I looked at the toast, sunny side-up and bacon that looks just perfect. I somehow find that hard to believe. “Dad made this?” I asked for the second time. Mom nodded her response and added, “I made your juice.” I looked at the orange juice beside the plate and smiled at her, “Thanks, Mom. And I’m not grumpy.” I chuckled.

“You were asleep when Travis dropped you back; your Dad had to carry you up the stairs.” She smiled at the memory. I imagined my soft-natured father carrying me all the way to my bedroom. “Is he okay?” I laughed.

“He’s fine. And about your school dance for tonight – what will you wear?” she had her eyebrows up and I quickly went to the defense before she harbors any ideas, “Remember the dress from last Friday?” Realization dawned on her and she nodded approvingly. “I won’t be home until later tonight, okay? Just rest or you’ll pass out in front of everyone when you go dancing.” Then she smiled. “Have fun, Ave. See you later.”

“Bye, Mom.” She kissed my forehead lightly and smiled at me one last time before going out.

I faced the tray of food and took a sip from the juice. So, I fell asleep; mystery solved. As I started to eat my breakfast, I thought of the day ahead. I find it uncomfortably strange that I have nothing to do but wait for tonight. But at that moment, I didn’t think much about anything except the fun I hill have at the event and how everyday seems to be an occasion of some sort.

But tonight has far more in store for me, and everyone I held dear.

Part II:

It’s six-thirty pm. For some parts of the morning and the whole of afternoon, I tried to fill up my day with activities right after I prepared for the upcoming event tonight. I tried to watch the television after taking a bath but gave up quickly after being bored to tears. I honestly don’t know how people stand to watch others do some drama on the screen. 

I read two pocketbooks in a row and called my friends, deciding that we should meet inside the school gym where the school dance is being held for maybe atleast, ten minutes before it starts. I gave them my okay to them and as I placed the receiver back to its place, I remembered biting my lip and wondering what to do next. Dad insisted on taking a nap and I walked upstairs like a zombie, intending to do just that, but I didn’t expect a simple nap to last atleast six hours. 

“Two kings.” Dad muttered, putting two cards on the table between us and took a bite of his toast.

“Bluff?” I guessed, holding my breath. He heaved a great sigh and upturned his cards, which were certainly not kings and added both to his deck. “I’m not a good liar.” 

I laughed. “I got that from you, then.” I finished the toast on my right hand and shuffled my cards and resumed the game with a pair of threes.

We’ve been playing for thirty minutes straight while eating toast. I already beat Dad five times, much to my amusement. I was waiting for his turn when he said, “I quit.”

I burst out laughing at the defeated look on his face. “Come on, Dad. One more round?”

“Not a chance.” He shook his head, albeit smiling. He said gruffly, “Why don’t you go and get dressed and put on your make-up or something?”

“I don’t do make-up.” I remarked as I arranged the whole deck of cards and put it on a small box.

“I still want to see you in that new dress of yours before you go clubbing.”

“Dancing, not clubbing, Dad. Seriously, I don’t even go near clubs.” I rolled my eyes  as he looked at me with in endearment and he said, “Sorry, honey. So why don’t you prepare a fashion show for me?”

“I’m on it.” I jumped to my feet and went up the stairs to my bedroom, taking note of my appearance at once on the mirror of my cabinet. No more eyebags – not bad. I took the dress and removed it from the hanger and began taking off my clothes and pulled the dress over my head. It actually feels fine, and I don’t look really bad at all. The white swirling designs are very nice to look at and – oh no. I twisted my torso around and looked at the complicated strings on my back, still untied.

I can’t believe I’ve forgotten it was a criss-crossing type of silly dress. I carefully reached back and tightened the two strings and tied it like a ribbon. I combed my hair until it’s ridiculously smooth and shiny before putting on topaz earrings and a simple necklace with fine chains. I didn’t bother with any ring as I looked at the one I’m wearing. Without being aware of it, I smiled at the name painted on the ring. 

I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The real challenge was the heels. I stared at the three-inch…thing, and wondered if I might break my ankle or fall flat on my face. I debated for five more minutes before finally grabbing them and putting them on.

I took a deep breath and faced the mirror. I look...different and strangely normal at the same time. Different because I feel, tall. The black heels did a lot of work, I admit. But I saw some people wear more outrageous outfits than this, so I feel normal. As normal as I can be, anyway. I didn’t put anything on my face save for a lip gloss and I got my matching black pouch, which I filled with my wallet, temporary cellphone, and a few other necessities. 

Finally I went out to the hall and found Dad waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“You look wonderful.” I walked down with care and kissed him lovingly on the cheek. “You’re biased as Mom, but thank you.”

He laughed, “I’m not biased, you’re too hard on yourself.” Then he escorted me to the door and gave me a really tight hug. “Have fun ‘til you can’t breathe, okay? You’re only in highschool once.” I giggled as he pulled back, “Yes, and thank God for that.” 

He gave me one last kiss on the head and a smile. Before I went out into the night, I blew him our trademark flying kiss.

The kiss that meant one of us will be away from quite some time.

Chapter 20: The bright side

Chapter 20: The bright side (Wattpad)

The word paparazzi took a whole new meaning. I clutched the magazine hard, as though it would erase the foreboding photo in front of me and change into something coherent and possible. Nevermind the laws of transition. This must work. This insanity must end. This atrocity, violence of – of my – violence of my privacy and of my well-being. And of my sanity.

My eyes swept through the cover title, though my brain was refusing to accept the words,

The lovestruck billionaire and the flare. Then below that was worse, mush worse. This month’s latest issue – 18 year-old heir to the fortune of Gedi Institute and his newfound love. For more information on Mr. Travis Warner and Ms. Avery Allton, see page 19.

Page fucking nineteen.

I held the rest of the package under my arm and frantically started flipping the pages. My breath went short – it’s a five-page article.

Five.

Pages.

The first page had Travis and I walking casually, but it had been shot at the most opportune moment; we were looking at each other. Intentionally or by accident, I don’t know, I don’t care, the headline read, The multi-million dollar relationship. And the byline in smaller letter size read, by Cassandra Watts.

I never in my life, wished anyone to rot in hell. Never, not until now. This Cassandra Watts should just stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. While my academic mind profusely reminded me that the sun literally doesn’t shine on the Arctic and Antarctic region, I started reading the first paragraph,

The media and the worldwide press has always been covering stories, issues and financial breakthroughs from the known company of Gedi Institute for high-ranking and high-flying lawyers in the city. Mr. Anthony Warner, age 35, has always been a prominent figure in the upper circles, as expected by everyone from his only son and heir, Mr. Travis Anthony Warner.

Mr. Warner, age 18, has had his own share of the public media and spotlight, but now, he may be able to bask in it. Following the events of yesterday afternoon, Mr. Warner was seen out with a Ms. Avery Allton. From very reliable sources, Ms. Allton has apparently, been in a relationship with Mr. Warner for many months and both are deemed to be serious with each other.

Ms. Allton, age 17, has some very surprising academic background and an IQ of 109. A new student at the same school with Mr. Warner, it is assumed by our sources that it was instant attraction that had them knowing each other. The couple, as their classmates had said, always “made time for each other” and it is undoubtedly clear in our photos that the statement is true to every inch. They were spotted at a local park in Melbourne, namely Royal Ridge Park, spending the warm afternoon walking, away from prying eyes. From the time – 

“Avery? The magazines.”

“Yes, Mom. Coming.” 

I turned back to the article, wiping my sweating brow with my arm. Words were swirling around my head, making me dizzy – some are full-out lies and the others are nothing but the horrifying truth. Months? It’s not bloody months, fuck their sources. And just who the bloody hell said that we were ‘making time with each other’? People at school are so twisted and wretched! They can’t just keep their mouths shut, can’t they? Just fuck this. 

Lies, lies, lies. And ‘instant attraction’? Just who the fucking hell do they think they’re kidding? And what is this shit with ‘serious with each other’ relationship?

It’s blatantly obvious that Cassandra Watts – whoever the hell she is – just ate some crap out of some ‘sources’ and published – published! – this fucking story without any heads-up of any fucking kind.

Just who do they think they’re dealing with?

And my IQ isn’t a hundred and fucking nine – it’s 113. I sat down on our lawn and spread out all the magazines before me – Billboard, Details, Ok! Magazines, U.S. Weekly, PopMatters, Life&Style Weekly, and some more others that makes me want to puke.

They all have different covers, different headlines, but one topic in general.

Fuck.

With a shaking hand, I picked a paper at random – Variety magazine. Its front cover was of Travis and I when we were back at the car. He was pinning me against his car, his arms snaking around my waist and my arms were doing the same with his neck. He was smiling radiantly, his assets in full-view mode, but it wasn’t that observation that made me stop and look.

It’s me. My face.

I had no idea what I could be thinking in that particular moment, but my physique looked more…vibrant. Alive. I looked really happy. Energetic and inexplicably happy. I remembered what Nicole said on the phone,

“I’m glad you found him.” 

I smiled involuntarily, flipped the magazine open and looked for the scoop. It said the same things all over again, but the way they told it made me look and feel like Cinderella. The pictures weren’t so bad – what I meant to say is that there are no photos where we kissed, and that’s the crucial part. Just the pictures where we were fooling around and of him taking a picture of me.

Now, in that picture, I definitely looked happy.

I sighed again, feeling the pressure close around me, trapping me with no way out. I breathed in and out, counting the seconds before exhaling. I bit my lip worriedly and faced me dilemma.

What should I do?

The most practical thing to do would be to call Travis now. And I mean, now, now. But Mom’s waiting for the blasted magazines and I really don’t know if I should…I glanced at the monstrous bamboos and a risky plan made its way to my mind.

The bamboos look tall and thick enough to cover Dad. What more to a harmless little package of magazines? This scheme is so childish, but this situation is pushing me and leaving me no choice in the matter. Childish be damned. I started getting up and stuffed the magazines back randomly when I paused.

So what should I tell Mom?

Mom, there has been a raging hurricane outside and I barely escaped with my life. Let’s just forget about the magazines and cherish each other and our family. 

No, I don’t think that would work.

Okay, slow down. There’s always a solution to a problem. I looked down at the package in my hands. It’s a matter of will, and it also relates to the fact of my readiness to tell them of my situation. Shit, I can’t do this. I can’t tell them now; I need time.

Five minutes later, I sighed. Okay, I’ll follow my subconscious thinking. To hell with everything. 

 

My legs moved forward shakily as I closed the door behind me. Elaine and the others went back to their game, but she glanced at me worriedly, asking, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I responded in a raspy voice. After clearing my throat I tried again, “I’m fine, El. I have a bit of a headache.” Her look of concern intensified. “Do you want me to get you something? Just sit down, Ave. No offense, but you look terrible.”

I feel more than that. ‘Terrible’ doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling right now. It’s not even barely adequate.

“It’s okay, El.” I gave her a smile and before she could stop me, I moved forward to the dining table where my alder relatives are chuckling amusedly. Mom quickly turned to me, “Where – Avery, are you okay?” she urgently stood up and placed a hand on my cheek. Her hand was like a blaze of fire against my numb cheek. “Did you eat something, honey?” Do I really look sick?

“Nothing, Mom.” I guess I can use this to my advantage. 

“Ave, you alright?” Dad joined in the conversation in hushed tones while everybody else on the table went along as they were. “Did she eat something, hun?”

“I didn’t eat anything, Dad.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” Both of my parents asked in unison. Mom sad worriedly while Dad held my hand, “You didn’t eat anything?”

“Mom. I meant that I didn’t eat anything bad that I know of and Mom, they probably delivered the magazines in a wrong address; I didn’t see them.” Please, please, please. Surely, anybody can read the telepathic message I’m trying to send – 

“It doesn’t matter. Just rest upstairs, okay?”

My knees seemed to give in from my weight and I trembled violently. I exhaled. 

Someone up there must really love me.

“Ave, get better, m’kay?” Dad said as he pecked my cheek, “Now, let me help you up – ”

“Dad, it’s fine. I’ll go with Dels.” I need to speak to someone before I faint. “Okay,” he said. “Get better, Ave.”

“Rest, okay?” Mom reminded.

“Will do.” And with that, I started towards Delsey, who was lounging on the couch reading a book. I stood awkwardly in front of her and tried to keep my cool. “Dels? Can you help me for a minute?” She looked up from the book and immediately, her expression morphed from curious to absolute concern. 

“Ave? Are you okay?” She discarded the book without even putting her bookmark. “You look like ice.” She started getting up and out a hand on the small of my back. “C’mon. Let’s get you upstairs.” I didn’t even bother replying because I know she would just tell me to shut my mouth tight as a coffin. And I’m really tired.

I somehow managed to get to the second landing and she gently pushed my bedroom door open and settled me on the bed. I lay down and immediately felt extreme comfort and weariness at the same time. I can’t help closing my eyes and breathing in deeply.

“Hmm.”

I opened my eyes again and saw Delsey assessing me with her eyes narrowed in speculation and her hands on her hips. She pursed her lips and then moved forward. While removing my flip-flops, she lectured.

“Don’t tell me you have been eating something not good for you. You really look terrible, Ave. Like that girl from the Corpse Bride.”

“Thanks, Dels.” I muttered in a hoarse voice. That was extremely encouraging and just what my ego needed. She instantly erased what she said in my mind with a warm smile. “I was just joking. You should look in the mirror more closely.” Yeah, and see my skinny self. That’s nothing new. I grabbed a pillow from over my head and hugged it tightly. My caring cousin sat down by me on the bed and surveyed my face. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Ave. And I’m guessing the reason why you’re so out of shape is because of some problem. Am I right?”

She’s such a mind reader, but I think that’s one of the qualities that made her such a good role model for us. I sat up slowly and faced her.

“Before I say anything, uhm. Could you please remind your Dad about my ten bucks? He was going to give me, you see.”

“Got it. So what’s the big problem?”

I sighed and looked deep in her eyes. Okay, no beating around the bush this time. I licked my lips and started, “I have this problem. A really, really big problem. And I really don’t see how – ”

“Is there a solution?” she suddenly cut me off, her eyes testy. “Ave?” she prompted.  Why is she asking that? Shouldn’t she be asking about the problem?

“Yes, there is. There is a solution.”

“Then why are you worrying?”

That was unexpected.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Of course, I’m worrying because – it’s just – it’s a fucking problem! We’re supposed to be worried sick over them. But her remark had me thinking. If there is a solution, then why am I worried? I bit my lip again and looked at her and I saw her smiling like she knows what I’m going through. 

“What if there’s no solution?” I said, “At all? No solution to this miserable problem that I’ve gotten myself into – ” I was cut off by her laugh and she said, “You sound silly, Ave.” Silly? How the hell could I be silly? “What?” I asked her, still puzzled. 

“You said so yourself – there is no solution. None at all. So why are you still worrying?”

“But – I don’t have a choice! You don’t even know – no one knows!” I said hysterically. Damn. She’s really good in these things. Delsey arched her eyebrow slowly. “Well, then. You’ll just have to tell me everything, right?”

20 minutes later

Her hand was trembling as she held the page torn off from a magazine. I held my breath, having explained everything to her already as she turned to the next torn page. Then the next. And the next one.

Slowly, she raised up her stoic face and met my gaze. She released a breath I hadn’t known she’d been holding and she only said seven words, as though she’s in a dream-like state, “You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

I exhaled. 

“Ave, this is – this – wow. I can’t – ” she looked at lost for words and she just gaped at me soundlessly. “Look,” I started. “I know this looks ridiculous and you’re probably waiting for me to shout ‘Happy April Fools’ but the point is that it’s really, really true and it’s not April.” To be honest, my speech looks like it had no effect on her.

“So, you’re in a relationship with Travis Warner. The Travis Warner.” She chuckled in disbelief, “I’ve read about him a few times.” She shook her head and chuckled again. “Wow, Ave – just – wow.” She blinked rapidly and said, “Do you want a quick math?”

No, I don’t like that. The term we use for my counting disorder is ‘quick math’ but Delsey looked so expectant that I felt like I really had no choice in the matter.

“Dels, you know how I hate that…thing.” I gave her a withered look as I elaborated, “It makes me feel like a freak, as though I’m in a circus for weird people.”

“You, Avery Jacob Allton, are not a freak.” She stressed out then said, “Now, Ave. Two hundred, fifty-six thousand, one hundred forty-two minus five thousand, two hundred thirty-one?”

“Two hundred fifty six thousand, nine hundred eleven.” I answered, bored. Really. I feel like a monkey behind bars in a freaking zoo. Delsey’s eyes spoke out her awe for the disorder and I resisted the urge to grit my teeth. It’s not her fault that I’m an abnormal person. I had to live with it for seventeen years. She suddenly said,

“I don’t think the quick math is helping.” She bit her lip as I replied, “Yeah. It makes the headache worse.” Then she smiled.

“I have the perfect alternative.”

Chapter 4: Parent exposure

Chapter 4: Parent exposure (Wattpad)

Part I:

“Avery, you pray.”

“Dad, you pray.”

“Avery.”

“Okay, Mom. Okay. In the name of the Father, of the Son…” I recited the words memorized since childhood, and saw Mom and Dad murmuring as well.

“Amen.” In unison, we held our utensils and started to eat dinner – soup and broccoli. Mom just got home thirty minutes ago, and her work clothes are now changed to a t-shirt and comfy jeans. I know they’re comfy because I tried them on before. Don’t ask why – I was seven. “Dad, can you pass the – oh thanks.”

My father has a special talent like that. He can read my mind sometimes and it’s really creepy. Mom flipped her coppery hair from her shoulder, “Charlie, have you been gardening all day?” she asked in a lilting, but at the same time demanding voice. Dad was at the head of the small table, but he fidgeted in his seat as Mom’s caramel eyes – exactly like mine – bore right through him. 

It’s fun to see Dad squirm.

“There were weeds around honey and…yes, all day.” I saw Mom’s lip curve in what I know was a loving, but disapproving way, and I joined in the conversation.

“He also helped me with the bike, Mom.” 

She turned to me instantly and I saw behind my mother’s back that Dad was shaking his head, unmistakably mouthing the word ‘no’ with ambivalence.

Oops.

“What happened to the bike, Avery?”

Gah. I suck at lying, but to hell with it. “Uhm, you know. Dad was just checking if…”

“Maintenance.” Dad said suddenly, then put a fork of broccoli to his mouth. “Things should be checked regularly, don’t you agree?” he said to Mom and I sighed in relief as she smiled and resumed eating.

You’ve witnessed firsthand how Dad becomes my partner-in-crime these past few years.

We ate quietly after the close shave and I saw Dad smile to me and secretly giving me a thumbs-up. I winked in response. Then he turned to Mom and asked, “Did you see the news today? That…”

I ate silently while they were engaged in their own conversation. I can’t see any point in rising up my opinions, mainly because they’re talking about politics. And I don’t even like politics. I was jolted back to reality when I heard my name.

“Avery, how was school?”

Mom, the new students have been ogling at me, the school’s SuGee. It was terrible.

“Mom, it was great.”

“That’s good, Ave. Did you have fun with Cassie?”

“Yes, Mom. I always do. Why don’t we just – ”

“How was Chem?”

“Easy, Mom. Can you – ”

“How about – ”

“Mom. Everything’s fine. School is great.”

“Okay, then.” She flashed a perfect smile at me and then turned back to Dad. Oh. She didn’t detect the irony. I sort of hate dinner time sometimes.

Dad suddenly said out of nowhere, “Avery, we’ve been planning to talk to you.” He automatically acquired a fatherly, I-am-your-parent-therefore-you-are-my-responsibility voice and he looked at me in the eye.

Oh, no. The talk. I can feel it coming. I want to crawl into a hole so badly and let the bacteria decompose m tissues. Mom sensed my discomfort and smiled at me reassuringly – in this territory, Mom is my trusted ally. 

I met Dad’s gaze as he said, “You don’t have to hide things from us, honey.”

“Dad. I told you before that I’m not hiding – ”

“Ave, honey. You don’t have to be scared. You should – ”

“Dad, please. I never – ”

“Just promise to me and your Mom that we’ll get to meet them soon.”

“I don’t – he doesn’t even – ”

“Just listen to your Dad, Avery.” Mom smiled at me and I just know that she’s enjoying this. Okay, so here’s the thing. Dad actually thinks that…that, you know…

“Your boyfriend would be quite something, wouldn’t he?”

Oh, God.

“This boyfriend doesn’t even exi – ”

“Did you have a fight? Kids usually do that these days.” He ate some more.

Yes. My father thinks I have a bloody boyfriend. Oh, Jesus Christ. I can’t even stand to say the word out loud. I don’t even want to think about the word. That b-word has this taboo all the time and everywhere I go. Why can’t he just see that I don’t have the bloody boyfriend – gah, hate that word – he’s talking about?

My Mom chuckled at my gobsmacked face and thankfully, thankfully, came to the rescue. She turned to Dad and said, “Give it a rest today,” then she smiled, “Attack her later or tomorrow, hun.”

Dad is so unbelievably persistent in this thing. He didn’t give up just yet and said, “But we’ll be meeting him, right Ave?”

How the hell can you meet a non-existent person?

I inhaled deeply to regain control of myself and exhaled through my mouth. This is just unbearable.

“Okay, Dad. Okay. You happy now?” I saw him smile jovially. “Very happy, darling. Now, let’s just finish this tasty soup.” I gritted my teeth. I don’t even know why I’m annoyed, but I am. I don’t have a bloody boyfriend – I really hate that word – and I have no intention of making the mistake of having one.

Part II:

People at highschool are so loud. And do they even know that some people actually needs peace and quiet? It's not like they’re Eskil Donningsbakken and brag about their talents. You know, that extreme artist from Copenhagen, Denmark who does a handstand – handstand! – on top of the 280 ft. high Radisson S.A.S. Scandinavia building. He’s really my idol and I also found out that – oh. Nevermind.

“Oh! I have another one, Avery – ”

“Shut up, I don’t even know you – ”

“Yes, you do. My full name is Travis Anthony Gedi Warner – ”

“Quit. I don’t like being rude but – ”

 

“Just listen, Miss SuGee – ”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Fine, princess – ”

“Don’t call me that, either.”

“Okay then, Edward. You don’t have to be so – ”

“Shut the hell up!”

Have you ever seen the devil laugh? I did right then. “You’re so touchy, Edward. I wonder why.” Can he just die? That would be purely a wish come true. He could burn at the stake or –

“So, want to hear my pick-up line this time?”

I closed my Biology book furiously and faced him. 

I couldn’t care less if all the people kiss his feet in complete devotion because of his face. I admit, he is unusually handsome, and a lot of girls warned me to watch my step because they found out that we’re seatmates. Just seatmates, for the love of God, and they’re threatening me. I could see some of their point when I looked at his tousled, mild chocolate hair, his perfectly carved jaw and cheekbones, his handsome chin and long lashes. But life is unfair. Some are given looks and then there’s me, so average in contrast.

Of all the things this guy has to know about me, though – of all the bloody things! – it just has to be my secret little thing for Ed. I gritted my teeth. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t know he was a keen observer. I had no idea. It was just one afternoon and I was looking – okay, staring – at Ed from my view on the window. They were playing ball and then the next thing I heard – 

“I didn’t know you like Edward.”

Aaargh. I need a gun in my hands right now. I glared at him and said icily, “Go ahead with the bloody pick-up line.” He laughed, showing his perfect set of teeth and cleared his throat.

“You’ll really like this one, Avery. You being the school gen – ”

“Just get on with it! Why are you making this so hard – ”

“Okay!” he grinned and cleared his throat again, “Are you made of copper and tellurium?”

That’s just plain weird. “Why?” I asked. How the hell can a human anatomy include copper and tellurium?

“Because…you’re so cute.” He held his breath, smiling and anticipating my reaction. My brow creased together.

“Come again?”

“Don’t you get it?” he asked with his face looking crestfallen, “Copper? Cu? And Te? It’s from the bloody periodical table!” 

I burst out laughing. “That one is new.” I can’t believe it but I giggled again. It’s really corny and…it’s just corny.

He grinned at me and said, “Do you know I’ve been scanning the entire periodical table just to make sure I was doing it right?”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but it’s kind of…” I chuckled mirthfully.

“Kind of what?” he bit his lip.

Should I insult the pick-up line he worked hard for and let him crumble to dust or be the diplomat?

“It’s really nice.” I nodded and smiled a little. If I was born without a conscience, he’d be so sorry.

“Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Gah. The damned conscience.

“Avery, I want to tell you something.” He said, still smiling. Oh, good. A distraction. I always welcome a distraction from a disaster of any kind. “What?” I asked.

“You suck at lying.”

Oh.

“Was I, err. Was I that obvious?” he chuckled this time. “You were never really good at lying.” Well, that’s just invasive. It’s as if he knows me, which he doesn’t.

 “You don’t know me, Warner.”

“Don’t call me Warner – it’s as if we’re not friends – ”

“We aren’t. Stay away from me. Go away.”

He winked and said, “Why don’t you just accept the fact that you like me?” Aaargh. I’ve never met someone like him in my entire life. His ego is unparalleled and just disgusting. 

“Do you have eyes?”

“Yes, indeed. And I use them to – ”

“Make everyone crazy.” That sounded so wrong so I added, “In a bad way.” His smile turned wider as he said, “There’s no such thing as making someone crazy for you.”

“Not if it includes annoying the hell out of them.”

“I’m charming you,” I don’t think he even knows the meaning of the word, “And it’s not my fault that you see it the other way.”

“What other way?”

“Okay. Let’s have a little experiment.” He rubbed his hands together and swiveled in his chair, facing me completely. He said with a straight face, “Look at me in the eyes and tell me they’re hideous.”

“They?”

“My eyes,” he shrugged. “Look at them and tell me they’re awful.”

This is just unfair. I know by soul that the color of his eyes is blue. Mediterranean blue. A nice-ish blue. Okay, I like the color of his eyes, shut up.

“What do you want from me, Warner?”

“That you like me. And don’t call me Warner.”

“Then don’t call me names, either. Do you know how hard it is for me to just – ”

“Okay, Avery. Now where were we?”

“I have no idea.”

“Come on, Edwa – Avery. Why are you being so hard?” This guy is impossible. “Hard on what? Will you just please stop annoying me?”

“I’m not annoying you. I just want to be friends. And afterwards, maybe we can have lunch together – ”

“Go away.”

“Avery.”

I will not bloody respond. He rolled his eyes then and just said, “Suit yourself. It’s your loss.”

Gah. I hate – no, I loathe him so much.