NINE | Lakad
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L u c c a E a s t o n
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I knew there's something wrong with Maryssa as soon as we got off the motorcycle, staggering when her feet touched the concrete ground. She even murmured words that I didn't hear much.
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"Are you okay? You look at little green." I asked, also noticing that she's pale; really pale. What happened to her? Does she have any kind of motion sickness, or just plainly afraid of motorcycle? Even so, why did she agree riding with me? She was shivering violently. Though it is chilly, it isn't enough to make you shiver that violently. I'm slightly sweating through my jacket.
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"Just peachy, Easton." My thoughts were cut when she snapped.
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"No, really. What's wrong?" I took a step towards her, concerned. God, she was breathing heavily. Are you not feeling well?-Maryssa!"
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Lucky for me, I easily caught her as soon as she fell and instantly sagged into me. Tightening my grip on her waist I reached my other hand to feel her forehead, which is hot. So I guess she's definitely not feeling well.
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And then I let out a curse, noticing that the lot was completely deserted. I have doubts bringing her to the school nurse, since they would just send her in the hospital; and I hated to admit it, but I am very worried with the girl in my arms. 677Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKPUArdHlzP
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"Fuckity fuck." I cursed once again, adjusted my grip on her and carried her bridal style to the nurse's office.
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[ ~ ]
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"Don't worry, she'll be fine; just make sure she drink lots of fluids . . . I droned whatever the nurse is saying; I mean, that's what they usually say when someone get colds right? I just don't see the purpose of those. Why can't they just say, 'you know the drill: take care of her until she gets better. If you don't know how to, search Google.'
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What? We are the internet generation after all.
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She handed me two passes-I guess one for me and for Maryssa-and shooed me away, eagerly might I add. Damn bitch, is she eager to masturbate or something? "Uhm, wait. Let me just call . . . my uncle." I lied, but fished my phone from the pocket and dialed. Maryssa's parents couldn't get her, saying they're out of state with an important meeting they couldn't miss; instead they gave me their address and practically ordered me to take her home. But seeing that we're stranded, I called someone I know who's practically married to their car.
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"Hello, Justine man? Meet me in the parking lot-no I don't care, just get the fuck over here."
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[ ~ ]
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I do not even know when, or why did I even come to care for this girl; she was just a girl I saw outside the cafeteria one day, her face neutral but her eyes speaking a thousand words. A thousand shades of sadness and loneliness. She was just another girl hiding behind that fake smile, behind secrets that all of us couldn't help but have.
But . . . there was something that drew me to her. Something compelled me to take a step towards her that fateful day outside the cafeteria; something compelled me to say something-anything to her, just to see her face, to see those beautiful and so lonely eyes. It's almost as if I have the feeling that only I could take away the sadness behind those depths. But am I falling? No. Absolutely not; it is simply impossible to fall in love with a person whom I just gaze from afar. I would rather call it attraction, and fuck was it a strong one.
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As soon as Justine parked in Maryssa's driveway, he helped me bring her inside their house: opening their door whose key was placed at the bottom of a pot of plant, opening the door that leads to her room and assisting me to get what we think she needs. Afterwards, we found ourselves outside Maryssa's porch, thanking him for the help he gave. He just laughed, thanked me for getting him off another hour of boring class and drove away, yelling at me to take care of the sick girl. It is weird, though. Being in Maryssa's home . . . feels natural, and right.
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Shaking the silly thoughts entering my mind, I threaded towards the kitchen and started cooking soup.
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