Arella
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I immediately get out of the bed when I hear a honking sound which means that I am late as hell. I didn’t hear my alarm even though I’m pretty sure I set three of those and now I have to run for my life or Michael will make me walk to school for being late.
“I’m coming!” I shout even though I'm well aware he can’t hear me.
I seriously need to stop reading books at night, at least during school days because I have no will to stop reading once I start and then I oversleep and no one in this house will be kind enough to wake me up.
I mentally curse myself for the selfish thinking. My uncle and my aunt are and always have been the kindest people I’ve ever met.
After picking pretty much the first jeans, a shirt I can’t really say whether it’s black or blue right now, putting on my usual sneakers, I try to run down the stairs in order to hurry up, however, I trip almost and the end and my butt meets the floor, because that is the type of person I am.
With a hand on my sore butt as if it would help, I go to the kitchen and grab two slices of bread – no time for anything else, so I deceive my brain into thinking it’s a sandwich with the way I eat the two slices – and grab my backpack on the way out.
The second Michael lays his eyes on me he starts honking that bloody thing like a crazy old man.
“Oh, my God. Are you trying to wake everyone else in the neighborhood?” I ask, the sound coming muffled because of the fake sandwich as I get inside the car, covering my ears.
“Are you trying to make late?” He tries to sound upset but I can see his smile.
“Will you stop the damn fanfare and drive then?”
If the neighbors didn’t wake up with the honking festival, they definitely did once he started the car and some Headhunterz song started playing louder than ever. Michael had a very peculiar music taste, which I believe no one would guess by looking at him. He seems like the nerd guy, which is why we ended up becoming friends – when naïve me was not understanding what our Spanish teacher was saying and decided to ask him, at which he replied “Honey, I barely know my name this early in the morning, let alone what he’s saying.”
“I have something to tell you.” He says after clearing his throat.
“Oh… so what illegality thing did you do this time?”
“Arella!” He pretended to be offended by my question. “People will think I’m a criminal!”
“I’m joki- wait, what? What people? We’re alone!”
“A guy can’t be funny anymore.”
“You’re not funny, let Claire be the funny friend and you… be… the… huh… what kind of friend are you again?”
“Idiot.” He mutters. “I’m the gay friend. Everyone knows that.” He suddenly says and I burst out laughing.
Michael is a really nice person and an even better friend, the thing is: he thinks he’s hilarious and we like to annoy him by telling him he’s not. But that’s what friends do.
“Anyways, what is it that you want to tell me?”
“I met a guy.”
“Please tell me it’s not a Omegle guy.”
“Pff… no one even uses that anymore.”
“You did… until last week at least…”
“I’ve grown older and moved on for your information.”
“Right.” That was one word full of sarcasm. “How did the two of meet, then?”
“So, you know how I like hardstyle and yesterday I was wearing my Deqon 1 shirt and this guy comes at me when I was walking Farts at the park and asks me if I’ve been there and that’s how we started talking and then he invited me for coffee and…”
Michael keeps telling me about all the details of his encounter while driving us to school and I simply nod my head or give small answers, laughing when he explained the guy why his dog’s name is Farts, because you can never not find it funny.
I’m still taking driving lessons and, even though my uncle has been helping me as well, I’ve been taking it slow. Maybe too slow. But it’s not my fault – well, maybe it is, for letting my fears and past always win.
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As Michael parks, we can see Claire waving while walking towards us.
“What’s up with his stupid happy face today?”
“Claire!” I scold. “He met a guy.”
“No. I met the guy.”
“Do tell.” Claire squeals and claps, definitely way more excited than I was when he told me the story. In my defense, I was still sleeping and have zero interest in relationships, or, at least, no one ever made me feel like I should be in one and I was fine with that. I know the time will come for me to find my soulmate, my other half or whatever. But honestly, if time doesn’t come, I am fine with that as well.
I was deep in my thoughts when a red Jeep comes to my attention. I immediately felt a shiver when I see her, she will always have that effect on me apparently, no matter how many days, months, years passed. The one that I still blame inside my mind, but can’t do anything about it.
Watching her arrive at school is almost like a Dementor’s scene from Harry Potter, at least that’s how I picture it.
Dropping her off is a tanned guy with dark hair and even darker eyes and, yes, I can see all of this because he stopped right in front of the three of us. I try to control my disgusted face as she leaves the car and leans on his door to kiss him, giving us a very graphic image of her ass and what she’s not wearing underneath that skirt.
“Can you not… This is the reason I turned gay!” He yells, making everyone around us stare, except for Jessica. She simply flips her hair and walks towards wherever she hangs around during classes.
“Michael, just leave her alone.” I say in low voice.
I look at the car that was still next to us only to notice that the guy is looking in our direction, probably mad because of what he heard about his girlfriend. When his eyes meet mine, I get a little scared and swallow hard, fidgeting my fingers. Nervous habit.
People usually say that the eyes are the window to the soul and if that is true, then this guy has a very dark one.
“Stop looking at her mate, she won’t be next, shoo!” Michael tells him, making shoo motions over and over, embarrassing me even more.
“Jesus, Michael, let’s go.” Claire grabs Michael’s arm who seems like he’s ready to fight for my reputation while I just follow them, not quite hearing what they’re saying. Then, I do what I should have never done: I look back.
I look back and there he is. Still. Still looking. This time with a smile on his face, like he won a prize for making me looking back at him. Honestly, if this was a book, I would know exactly how this would end, but there is no way me and that guy… no. I refuse to even finish the sentence on my mind. No.
For a moment, it seems to me that his eyes turn red, just for half a second.
I was already far away anyway, so I’m clearly mistaken, I say to myself, and that is when I decide that I need to stop reading books and start drinking coffee in order to not lose my mind.
Idiot.
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