From the day I decided that I would be friends with Jake, I knew that I would be bombarded with questions and demanded answers by my parents the instant I tell them.
Which was why I'd been stalling myself from doing just that for the past few days now, and finally chose to tell them about him and what had been going on in school recently until the right moment, which was our family dinner.
There's something about mothers that made them refuse to tolerate any arguments, any quarrelling, and just any spiteful exchanges in general when it comes to gathering around the dining table to eat a lovely meal together. My mother was just like that, and in recent years, she was stricter about the unspoken house rule more than usual. The slightest spark of an argument between Gwen and I would receive a warning glare from her that said 'You better cut that out or I will kill you' and another look from Dad that said 'Just do what she says and I'll buy you ice cream.'
Not wanting to agitate either of them any longer, we would both concede and continue eating our meal, usually accompanied by uneasy silence until the other, brighter side of our mother would step in and ask us about daily affairs or talk randomly about the news.
Thing was, this unspoken rule not only applied to Gwen as well as myself—though especially for Gwen and I—but it also applied to the adults, too. To everyone under the roof of this very house, actually. And that meant that during our family dinner, when everyone would be sitting in their respective places while forking some salad or beef onto their plates, they weren't allowed to burst out yelling in fury either.
So when Mom called the two of us down for dinner and I saw the table already set up and filled with steaming dishes that she undoubtedly purposely made so that I would at least eat something tonight, I knew that I needed to tell them now.
In the middle of the uncomfortable silence surrounding us once we got settled down, Mom set down her utensils and placed her elbows firmly on the table and her chin on her folded hands. Her bronze hair was tied to a messy bun as always and a streak of blue paint was smeared across her right cheek. There was colorful paint smudged all over the polo shirt she was wearing, some of them old stains and many new ones. She had been painting again.
"So." Of course she had to be the one to initiate the conversation. "How was school today?"
"It was great!" Gwen exclaimed, taking the spotlight before I got the chance to, as always. "Ms. Avery told me I can join the school orchestra this year. There will be practice sessions starting next week, but Ms. Avery says I need Mom and Dad's consent if I want to join."
The man of the house, our dad, set down the newspaper he was busy scanning through and wore a smile on his face, a rare occurrence, while Mom couldn't be any more delighted by this piece of news. "Well, of course you can join, sweetie!" Of course, because how in the world would they deny her the one chance she got to prove to others that she was just as talented as anyone else? "Just don't forget to finish all your homework afterwards, okay? Your sister can help you with that."
I sighed. The perks and downsides of being an older sibling, I guess. "Sure thing, kiddo," I said instead, reaching over to ruffle her hair jokingly, agitating her a bit. She scrunched her face and shooed my hand away. If only she was like this around other kids her age, too.
"I'm not a kid," she grumbled. "I'm twelve. And in middle school. I barely passed but I'm not a kid."
"What about you, Hayley?" I was caught off-guard this time, and spun around towards Mom who looked at me with a curious glint in her eye. "Anything interesting happening in school lately? Something crazy that Mel did in class perhaps?"
I rolled my eyes. That was usually the case; I never really told any of my personal problems to them—including and especially that little incident with Justin that I would never, ever speak to them about, ever—and I would usually divert the attention to Mel, who was practically another member of the family by now, only that she didn't live with us and happened to be part of her own family as well. In other words, she was probably the daughter my parents wanted to have but could never have because both of their current daughters both had severe problems that neither of them could really take care of for good.
This time, though—this time, I really had something to tell. Although they didn't know the specific details like most people do, they knew that something bad happened to me three years ago that made me shut off from the rest of the world for good, and that something definitely had something to do with him.
So to be honest, I didn't know how well this was going to turn out. They could either accept him as a friend, like I considered him to be, or they could see him as a threat to their oldest adopted daughter's extremely fragile mind, heart and happiness. The latter which terrified me more than anyone could ever know, not because I was afraid that they wouldn't treat him nicely once they got to meet him, but because I was scared that they would be right.
"A new kid came in last week," I started off with obvious hesitation due to the long pause in between. I practically scrutinized the changes in their expressions, which immediately turned to a mix of wariness and curiosity as soon as I said the first sentence. "His name is Jake—well, Jacob Parsons, Jr. but he insists that we call him Jake and it's easier that way, too. Curiously, he's in most of my classes and happens to choose the seat right next to me, so a mildly friendly conversation was practically inevitable the first time around and we sort of... stuck together, I guess."
Dad pressed his lips together. "That's... great, I suppose." It came out more like a question than a statement. "Although as a father, I am concerned about your well-being because obviously, he's a boy, but something else concerns me a little bit more than that." He cleared his throat. "How the hell is this Jake kid half a semester late into your last year of high school?"
I rolled my eyes again. Classic Dad.
"Don't listen to your father," said Mom, glaring at him with a hint of a smile on her face. "He sounds like a nice boy. What's he like?"
"He likes Leo DiCaprio." I turned around to see Gwen's grinning face, which to me looked like a look of pure evil and mischief, as if she knew that by speaking up, I might get into worse trouble than I potentially already was. "And has the same weird music tastes like Hayley does. They text each other almost every night and she can't stop smiling to herself when she sleeps. It's creepy. What's worst is that he's just a guy version of her, but probably worse."
Dad being Dad, he stared at her questioningly. "Wait, you've met him, Gwen?"
I glared at her and she ignored it nonchalantly. "Yeah, he came to visit a few days ago. They watched Titanic together—I was upstairs though but it was oddly quiet the entire time. About a few hours later, I guess they finished watching and he immediately went home. They still texted that night for a bit before going to bed—that was what she was probably doing when she refused to eat dinner that night—but that's about it."
"And you never told us about this?" Mom's eyes were wide, either with panic or just shock, hopefully the latter than the former. "You could've at least asked him to stay over for dinner. But first and foremost; why didn't you tell us he was coming over?"
"It's not like that he planned it—wait, that came out wrong. What I mean is and what literally happened was, I walked out the building to see my bike already in the back of his truck and he insisted to drive me home. Despite that, he's just a friend, all right? Nothing more, nothing less." I paused and remembered the worst but also unavoidable part of the conversation. "Well, except the fact that he asked me out to Homecoming Dance."
Dad choked on his drinking water. Mom had a mini heart attack and struggled to keep her composure, but her face nearly gave it away until she managed an awkward smile. Gwen grinned like the little demon she was, as if she was expecting this.
"Homecoming Dance?" Mom raised an eyebrow. "That's a first. He sounds like a gentleman, though. I don't see a reason why you shouldn't."
Dad pointed his spoon at me. "As long as his hand stays above the waist and on the back, I suppose I'm fine with it."
Mom swung her hand at his chest so fast that the light thump of the impact caused me to jolt out of my seat for a moment. "In the language of fathers, I assume that's a yes for you, sweetheart. Just don't forget to come home on time, all right? I don't want to know what you kids do at Homecoming these days, but at least come back home safe and sound, at least by ten o'clock."
"Mom, I'm seventeen," I said with arms crossed. "I'm a year away from becoming an actual adult. I think I can handle myself pretty well by now."
She pursed her lips, and for a moment, the half-puppy-dog look she attempted to put on made me feel a slight tinge of guilt, even when I had no idea why I should feel guilty in the first place. "But you're always going to be my baby," she sighed. "Well, to be honest, Gwen is more of a baby than you are right now, but you're both will always be my precious little babies. No matter how old you're going to be, no matter how far you are from each other and from us. We're always going to be a family."
I smiled softly as I felt the little heartstrings in my chest being tugged. I glanced at Mom, at Dad and Gwen, all of whom had bright smiles on their faces that almost convinced me that life was as good as those fake ass movies made it seem like. If only my eyes were a camera and my mind would keep memories like these for a lifetime without accidentally deleting them due to the age factor.
It was fond memories of happiness like these that I would remind myself of whenever I stared at the blade that I hoped would take my life. I would remind myself that I still had a family, and even though it wasn't perfect, but it was my own little family, filled with people whom I care about and who cared about me, too. They were the people in my life who wouldn't let me go as easily as I've let myself go numerous times. And if I had to continue living, then it would be for them, because as much as I didn't care about myself, the least I could do was to consider how they would feel once I really do take my own life away.
I didn't see Jake that following morning, but I did receive a cryptic text message from him the second I entered the school building.
From: Jake
1. Distract Mel.
2. Bring her to lockers @12.00
3. Stand back & enjoy the show
I was too busy staring at my phone and trying to figure out what he planned to do through these instructions, that I nearly yelped when something or somebody tapped my shoulder. I turned around immediately to see Mel standing right behind me, and barely had enough time to hide my phone away from her so that she wouldn't be suspicious if I did act upon those instructions. Unfortunately, she caught me in the act too quickly and gave me a dubious, narrow-eyed look and a curious smirk upon her lips.
"Okay, why so jumpy today?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her. "Was it a text from Jake again? Is he planning something special for you today? Wait, don't tell me—is it a bouquet of roses? A box of chocolates?"
Oh, the irony. "Well, even if he was planning some sort of surprise, I doubt he would tell me anything about it because that would ruin everything, then. It's the whole point of setting up surprises, Mel."
She shrugged. "Well, who knows? You two are the most unconventional couple I've ever met—maybe you like to do things differently than the stereotypes."
"I prefer normality, actually. And we are definitely not a couple."
As grumpy as I was, at least she didn't suspect a single thing, which was great if we wanted this to work. We continued our routine school lives without another hitch in the plan, but still I saw no signs of Jake, nor Conrad for that matter. The former was marked absent today in the attendance list during Homeroom and was yet to appear for the rest of the day. Conrad was missing from Art class, too, which I shared with him. I could only thank the lax system of our school that didn't really record student attendance properly, thereby allowing students to miss school however they wanted. It was just that majority of the students here had the social motivation to go to school that the system was yet to be abused.
Of course, being the concerned, humane person she was, Mel questioned both of her friends' disappearances; she urged me to text Jake during second period while she was furiously typing on her phone that I was afraid it might burst into flames. To be fair, I did but didn't show her the text because he only replied my worried message with a winking emoticon that made my stomach do somersaults. I instead told Mel that he refused to tell us where he was, but that he would arrive at school later than usual.
What worried me even more was, that is, if he even planned to show up at all.
I received another message from him only later on in the day, just as I got out of History class. My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans and I nearly dropped my books out of surprise before fishing the damn thing out. It was from him, and was just as ambiguous as his earlier texts that got me worried for whatever crazy scheme he planned to pull off, or perhaps, for his sanity itself.
Bring the eagle to the nest. Everything is set to go. We're counting on you.
For the love of God, this is not a covert spy operation.
"Hey there, lonely lovebird!"
I turned around to see the familiar redhead prancing toward me like an excited little schoolgirl. The ridiculously giant smile on her face told me that she was in a particularly good mood today, even despite the disappearances of two of her closest friends since this morning. Something good must've happened during whatever she had before this, and hopefully, whatever that was gonna happen next wouldn't spoil her mood a single bit.
I came up with my usual frustrated groan in response, added with casual rolling of the eyes. "I'm not a lovebird. That term applies to people who actually have lovers, which I am not included."
"Yet to be included." She placed a hand on her hip. "Wanna head to the cafeteria for once and grab a cupcake? They're serving chocolate chip and strawberry, which I'm not sure how that would work, but they're cupcakes and I want one."
"Uh, no can do," I said, scratching the back of my head while trying to find a decent reasoning to get her where she really needed to be right now. After years of lying to practically everyone around me, the only time when I legitimately did need to lie was the only time that I was worst at it. "I, uh, I think I left some stuff back at my locker. My sketchbook, actually."
Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then turned into disbelief. "What? No. You never forget your sketchbook—like, ever. There's no way you left it in your locker. You'd literally die the moment you check your bag and see that it's not inside."
"Yeah, well, I nearly did. So if you're a good friend, you'd accompany me back to my locker to grab my book first, and then head to the cafeteria to get your goddamn cupcakes."
She rolled her eyes. "I hate you."
"Believe me, my friend, the feeling's mutual," I said with a closed-lip smile as I grabbed her shoulder and shoved her toward the direction of the lockers. She complied, but not without a few gibberish murmurs of complaint being heard coming out of her lips.
There was a change in the decoration along the hallways today. Streamers, balloons and banners of striking colors of green and silver white—Willowside High's official school colors—hung from the ceiling, above doorways and lockers. Flyers for the Homecoming Dance were all over the place—pinned on notice boards, pasted on doors and windows, and even some on the lockers, probably to piss their respective owners' off. I was also unfortunately one of the victims of what I'd like to call 'Homecoming Harassment' earlier when I found at least ten stuck to my locker door, all of which I simply dumped in a nearby trashcan before I was forcefully shoved another one of those goddamn flyers by the Homecoming Committee just like yesterday, only this time, the force of it nearly knocked me into the trashcan itself.
As we passed through the hallways, every student that walked by us greeted or at least nodded toward Mel because of her popularity status, in contrast to mine which earned me neither of those from anybody. Instead, I got scowls, glares and snobbish faces turned upward to pretend as if they hadn't saw me. I was used to it, sure, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to someday be noticed like Mel was. And then I would probably think about it again and maybe appreciate that I didn't attract as much attention as she did because I'd rather stay in the shadows than to step into the spotlight.
It just so happened that Jake saw me even through and despite the shadows when nobody else did, and up until this point, I was yet to know why.
It couldn't be just because I greeted him that first day, could it? I mean, I've greeted many people before, and majority of them either just ignored me or they literally thought I wasn't there, like I was some kind of tangible ghost. It was annoying at first but then it became a routine, and in the end, I never bothered to even greet people anymore, even to those who I've known for quite some time, even before high school.
When we did reach the lockers, I immediately rushed over to mine, turned the knob to the combination of numbers I chose and opened it. Mel was lazily catching up to me so I quickly moved as though I was stashing my forgotten sketchbook into my bag when in reality, I was just stashing a random notebook which turned out to be for Algebra, into the bag. I was about to reach into my pocket and grab my phone again to ask where he was after checking that the time was three minutes past noon, when suddenly, I heard footsteps, and they were not Mel's.
I paused for a moment, focused on the sound of the footsteps and its familiar nervous pacing that I'd known for years now. When they stopped right behind me, I felt my breath hitch for a second before deciding at the last second to turn my heel around to face them. Moments before I saw the person's face, I unexpectedly saw Mel instead when she suddenly lunged towards the person behind me, followed by the worst, ear-splitting squeal that could possibly break every sound barrier that ever existed.
"Oh my gosh." Conrad's voice was raspy and silvery at the same time. He wasn't a local, either—he grew up in the south for most of his childhood but wandered off here sometime during middle school, so he retained some of the accent he was brought up with. "Well I'll be damned. I didn't think you'd miss me this much, Melody."
"Do not call me Melody," she snapped playfully, all while still drowning herself in Conrad's white t-shirt with the grin wider than ever before. Conrad immediately returned the hug with a genuinely surprised look on his face as he looked down at her, breaking attention for a moment when he finally noticed me standing there.
He might be in the very short list of people who have noticed me in my entire life, but the only reason why he was on the list in the first place was, again, because he had a massive crush on my best friend and he knew that either Mel or myself would choke him to death if he didn't.
But this time, he actually acknowledged me as a friend, evident when he gave a friendly wink and smile at me before turning his attention back to our gushing mutual friend with the same look of adoration he always had whenever he looked at her.
The same look of adoration that I wished someone would look at me with but knew would never experience.
Regardless, I couldn't help but smiled at the view, but didn't realize when there was, in fact, someone else standing right next to me until that person cleared their throat, and my inner feminine side nearly squealed as terrifyingly loud as Mel did when I turned around to see who it was.
Instead, my immediate response was to hit him square in the chest.
"Ow!" His hand flew up to where my fist landed as he staggered backward in recoil. "Jesus, woman, are you on steroids?"
I scowled. "That's what you get for scaring the shit out of me and making me worry my ass off because of your stupid goddamn texts, you cryptic sonofabitch!"
"Okay, ouch." He feigned a look of offense, which made me want to slap his face this time. "I honestly thought I would get the same warm welcome as Conrad did from Mel, but it seems that you truly are something different. I mean, if you're worried about me, would you at least give me a hug?"
He spread his arms out, as if expecting for me to immediately fall into his embrace when all I did was ignore him and crossed my arms in front of me. "Nah, I don't do hugs."
As if he expected this to happen, he broke into a grin before putting an arm around me, pulling me closer toward him while ignoring my grumbles of protest. He spun me around so that we were both staring back at Mel and Conrad, the Happy Couple, as the former began blurting out questions at lightning speed that Conrad could barely catch up with any of them, but still had an amused smile on his face anyway.
"So," I said as I turned my face back toward Jake. "What have you two been doing anyway? I thought I was in this entire secret conspiracy, too. Why did you guys leave me out?"
He rolled his eyes at my fake pout and puppy-dog eyes, which was strange—not him rolling his eyes, but the latter, because I never made puppy-dog eyes at anybody, not even Mel, and especially not at someone whom I've just known for two weeks. "Well, if all three of us were out of the picture, Mel would probably have a bunch of bloodhounds on leashes sniff out our scent, or maybe even hunt us down herself. We need you as a distraction, little Hayley. Which, so far, you've been doing a great job at."
He released his hold on my shoulders and instead, his hand suddenly found mine and grasped it tightly before I felt myself being pulled back and away from the happy couple step by step. "Now all we need to do," he said with a low voice, almost like a whisper, "is to enjoy the show."
I initially frowned at his words, confused but when I spun back toward the couple, Conrad was already on one knee with a bouquet of roses in his hands that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Mel had both her hands cupping her mouth in surprise and her eyes were tearing up, in a good way than the opposite.
"Melody Carmelia Turner." Conrad spoke in a dramatic manner, almost like a prince doing a marriage proposal for a princess. In my own personal opinion, it was sickening, but Mel liked those kinds of things. It would be nice to make her happy for once without her mood being ruined by my cynicism.
Mel, on the other hand, looked annoyed when he mentioned her full name which she despised with a burning passion.
As Mel accepted the roses, Conrad took a piece of paper out from his jeans pocket and began to recite the poem. Before he spoke, however, Jake leaned in and whispered to me, "We tried to have him memorize it but he literally has the worst memory. Believe it or not, all we did was practice proper gentleman manners."
I rolled my eyes but smiled while turning my attention back to them, just as practically everyone around us did.
"Roses are red, violets are blue262Please respect copyright.PENANAQNnqZW9sda
They are all very beautiful and so are you262Please respect copyright.PENANAN4wNQ3EKiz
Violets aren't really blue, though, not all roses are red, too262Please respect copyright.PENANARS7roxpiqQ
But I do hope you like them, because I've brought some for you
When you're around, my days are bright and sunny262Please respect copyright.PENANAqpR4AXJLjl
Staring into those brown orbs of yours, sweet and warm just like honey262Please respect copyright.PENANA3xHcqkyLBC
Your heart beats like no other, burning with relentless passion262Please respect copyright.PENANAH0Bnj8DFOK
For gender equality or shelter animals, or even your... questionable fashion?"
He paused with uncertainty. Mel had wide eyes and her face was burning tomato red when she shot a glare at me. I instead turned to Jake and mouthed 'I told you so.' He gave me a cheeky grin.
Conrad was blushing worse than Mel was as he struggled to continue reciting the poem, most likely afraid that there would be another evidence of my tampering on it.
"Uh... Without you, days are cold and dark262Please respect copyright.PENANAqoTRfktMcx
Lonely as the winter and brutal like the shark262Please respect copyright.PENANAarTxN3C7tL
Don't listen to what they say, about your hair or your clothes262Please respect copyright.PENANAnCvmI4TOq7
Lift your head up high and keep them on their toes262Please respect copyright.PENANAtyjXDGnjS1
As a friend or something more, I'll always be by your side262Please respect copyright.PENANATCqS2g6sx4
Through all the laughs we shared, and all the tears we cried262Please respect copyright.PENANAUaLHhxFi9U
Of course, there's a reason to everything, even to why I'm here262Please respect copyright.PENANA5l0AiaE3Br
This poem might be terrible, well I'm sorry I'm not Shakespeare262Please respect copyright.PENANAmyfd6hRhkj
But here I stand, before you today262Please respect copyright.PENANAL79z5T0gTX
To ask you this question, there is no better way262Please respect copyright.PENANA7hkL2VqWV0
If you could give me just a single chance262Please respect copyright.PENANAele0gq8McB
Will you be my date to the Homecoming Dance?"
Mel cried. She literally cried. I knew she would at least be brought to the verge of tears—happy tears, hopefully—but I didn't expect for them to come pouring out of her eyelids and instantly turn her into a bubbling, sobbing mess. She cupped her hands on her mouth despite the bouquet in her hands, and without any hesitation, she nodded not once, not twice, but more times than I could count on my fingers as she literally threw herself towards him. He caught her just in time and graciously welcomed her into a loving embrace.
"Yes!" I heard her mumble through stifles and sobs. "Yes yes yes yes yes! I would love to! I would never say no! How could I say no? Oh, Conrad..."
I didn't realize that I was smiling like an idiot, so much that the corners of my lips probably reached my ears and was the sole reason why others stared at me like I was some kind of freak, that was, if they weren't staring at the newcomer Homecoming couple. Conrad was now grabbing Mel by her waist—easy task considering how he could easily tower over her petite figure—and lifted her to the air, twirling her around like the princess she was before enveloping her into another embrace and kissed her fully on the lips, something that honestly made me gag for a bit because I didn't expect on seeing such a scene in over a million years before this day.
"I think she'll forgive you for adding that little remark in the poem now."
I turned toward Jake whose lips I realized were just inches away from my ear, but was grinning just as wide as I was.
"Seeing how happy you are for them right now," he said afterward, "Maybe I should've proposed to you with a poem of my own, too."
I closed my eyes instead of rolling them. I wanted to say no—deny the fact that I would like someone to recite me a poem while asking me out to the dance when deep down inside, I had a feeling of longing upon seeing how happy Mel and Conrad were. It wasn't that I enjoyed those cliché acts of romance. In fact, if I got to choose, I wouldn't mind being showered by attention, as long as it wasn't the obsessive kind, and perhaps a thoughtful gift or two or maybe just a moment of silence that spoke a thousand words for us. For me.
It's just that I've lost hope in love and romance a long, long time ago, and before long, I doubt that love ever existed at all.
But now, seeing how happy my two friends were, I began to rethink my thoughts. Perhaps it did exist, in some form that would only reveal itself to us on its own pace, and to those who truly deserved it, after all they've suffered through. Or maybe, it's just that little shred of hope and happiness that we all needed to keep ourselves moving again.
And, seeing how neither of them were planning to pull away any time soon, I nudged Jake lightly on wherever my elbow landed on him, not bothering to see where it did because my eyes were too fixated on the happy couple.
"I think," I said to him, "this is our queue to leave."
"I heard they're serving cupcakes today. Wanna snatch some away when nobody's looking and maybe save some for those two before the supply runs out?"
Our minds were too alike.
I locked eyes with him and smirked. "Race you there."
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