Chapter Thirty-Seven: Tag, You're It!
"Good morning Avery!" the idiot with bright beaming smile waved his hands enthusiastically as if I couldn't see though we were only a few steps away from each other.
I grumbled incomprehensible words under my breath, my mood going downhill the moment I opened the door and saw his face. It's not his fault. I know that.
But still. It kind of irks me and whenever I see his face, I get this immense distaste. No, I don't hate him. It's just that what Oskar suggested and his abnormal words gave a lasting impression on my tongue.
Rather, something distasteful.
I stared at him, watching his smile stayed unfazed, glistening under the hot, scorching gleam on the sun. I sure did wake up on the wrong side of the bed.
To make things worst, today was the start of preparations for the school festival. Thinking about it makes my anger grow tenfold.
Not only do I have to see this smiling, obnoxious boy—but I also must communicate with people I couldn't give two craps and have to deal with them. It's all because of these two scheming demons.
Making a witch booth. Making me a consultant? What a joke. As if I was any good with giving advices. The last time I probably had given good advice was.....never.
Tom's face slowly contorted from bright and bubbly to a mixture of concern, his brow furrowed and his lips wry. "You alright, Avery?"
"I'm perfectly fine. In fact, I'm happy...see?" I flashed him a sarcastic smile and I knew that it made my point when his face contorted into concern and relief.
He shoved both of his hands underneath his jeans, all the while the other strap of his bag slung on his shoulder. "You're angry at me, aren't you?"
"Angry? Me?" I say in a rather exaggerated tone, making it seem I was oblivious to it when it's obvious. You just need to put two and two together.
"Yeah. Definitely," he concluded without consulting me or my feelings.
Damn. Am I that see through? Or am I just that sarcastic and vile you could immediately understand me like we've been together for years. Well, not really. He's only known me for what? —four, five months?
It doesn't seem like a long time. But for me, if felt like an eternity. A rather miserable five months and other months to go.
I shrugged casually, making my way onto him with my shoes making a soft click. "It's not you. It's me."
He tries not to break into a smile to pursue his melancholy act now, but ultimately fails, making a smile come across his face. "You sound as if we're breaking up."
"How so?" I looked at him bored, quite restless this day by just the thought of being with strangers and trying to cooperate with them.
I should just skip school today. Yeah, I should say I have a massive diarrhea or I've got a cold or something. Then I'd spend the entire day binge watching some horror specials. That seems nice.
"Isn't that the infamous phrase used on a break-up?" he said, rhetorically, his smile never fading.
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble," I snickered, patting his shoulder lightly with every ounce of sarcasm dripping in my entire blood. "---we're not dating. And, I'm a potato."
"Potato?"
"Yeah. It's my sexuality now," I say it to mess with him, but he seems to take it seriously.
"Wait---so you're not interested with guys?" he says too worriedly, his forehead scrunched with lips pursed on a frown.
"Exactly," I nodded, taking the first few steps along the side walk and Tom followed pursuit, still glancing at me while he catches my pace.
"You're kidding me," he said hopelessly, placing his hand on his hair and running a finger through it in desperate measures to calm himself.
I snorted, silently enjoying his misery. Is he stupid? What's with potato?
It's just something my mind first thought about and decided I'd just go along for the fun of it. But really? He's taking it seriously? I swear he looks like he's having a mental crisis.
Damn. If only I knew how fun it is to tease him. I swear I'm getting more sadistic as time passes by. This is not good.
It's foolish. But seeing him have so many emotions in a split second made it seem priceless.
"I was kidding," I confessed, feeling bad. Not bad, that's farrr from what I feel right now. But rather, I guess I was being kind.
He stopped in his tracks, eyes trailed at me with his hand up in mid-air, hair tousled with it swerving all directions and olive eyes glinting. "You're kidding?"
I snorted, taking in his miserable look. "What the hell is potato? Isn't that so random? You're so gullible, it's amusing and sad."
He blinked, seemingly trying to process what I just said as he could only glance onto my direction. Then he finally processes it and realizes my stupid joke.
"Avery!" he let out a cry and I take a step back, watching his face contort from shock to glinting evil as he takes a step closer, lunging his arms to my vicinity.
I barely missed him and swerved the other way, seeing his eyes looked determined to catch me. I smirked. I won't lose. Not to him.
In the flick of an eye, I made the run for it and sprinted with everything in me, my bag juggling and my hair swerved with some getting into my mouth. Ugh.
I could hear his footsteps followed, nearing, and sounding so close that he could catch me any moment. I huffed, my breath starting to become uneven and my heart racing fast in thrill.
What the hell are we doing anyway? Two teens playing tag? I've never played tag before. Well, I did. Rather, I was 'it' because I was their main target. Treated like a weird kid.
But this seems like something else. If my foot ever gives up for a split second, I'm dead meat. Who knows what Tom is going to do? He's becoming more and more unpredictable with saying spontaneous things and being surprising.
Giving up was likely not an option. It's either run or you die. This survival in the fittest.
And I sure as heck not fit.
I swear I've been running for about three or two minutes and yet I feel beat up. It's like my body is at its limit. I'm unfit. Time for some exercise---like that's going to happen.
The only exercise I'll probably ever get is my walk from the refrigerator to the couch in the living room.
I cautiously looked from behind me and immediately regretted it. He was still tailing me and he didn't even look ragged or out of breath.
Is he even human? Or is it just me?
I swear this feels like the Olympics right now. My feet are killing me. It feels unbearable and burning while sweat trickled down my forehead and my hair beginning to look haggard with my mouth puffing for air.
But still, my sense of survival tried to numb everything else. The adrenaline in me refuses to give in to my body's scrawny state.
I take a sharp turn to the right, passing through people taking a jog with a dog in leash as they speak posh with their friends and discuss about their sappy life, trying to bring one down and the other.
The sun glistened on my forehead with the warmth creeping up my skin. I continued to run for what felt like years and came to a dead end.
Sh*t.
The streetlights were still flashing green and running out there would recklessly kill me. I wasn't that stupid. And that foolish to actually kill myself even though that was the entire purpose why I ran---to save myself.
I sighed, raising my hands up in surrender as Tom finally neared close with him looking like he hasn't run a mile or looked like a witch---which I did.
"I give up!" I hollered, hoping that he takes mercy. No.
He dashed to where I stood and finally captured me in his arms, then proceeded to poke in places where I was ticklish.
I think I should've just ran through the green light. That would have been much better. I could blame him though if I die or something.
I immediately flinched, cursing under my breath on why I was ticklish. Why I had a weakness where he keeps poking me and making me want to burst in fits of laughter.
"Stop! I'm sorry!" I plead in a small cry, my pleas followed by my roars of laughter as my sides can't take this anymore.
"Tom!" I chuckled all the while trying to yank his hand off my body. He doesn't budge and keeps tickling me.
I think I'm going to die.
Sixteen-year-old Avery Summers dies from a tickle. How pathetic.
"I give up!"
He seems to have shut his ears. It's pointless.
I clutched on his forearm, trying to pull him away but I was too weak and scrawny. Damn it. I sucked my teeth and instead embraced him, wrapping my arms around him like those wrestling moments where you hug your opponent because you're weak.
Yes, that was it.
My pathetic solution.
Somehow it worked. His hands that were on my waist dropped and flung to his sides. I blinked, feeling thankful that I got to live.
So......do I get out of this awkward hug or not? I motioned myself to pull away when he wraps a hand onto my back and pulls me closer.
"Hey. Uhm, let go of me," I say awkwardly, patting his back softly, trying to signal him to pull away but he doesn't.
I could hear his pants and the loud beating of his heart, so was his shoulders heaving up and down.
"You started it," he finally says a word after tormenting me.
"I know that. I was trying to mess with you," I retorted.
"Hey Avery."
"What?"
"Was this fun?" he murmured under his breath, still clutching me tight.
I blinked. "What are you saying?"
"I've never seen you have this much fun before," I could just about imagine that smile lingering on his lips. "----if you want to, you could just ask me to play with you and I'll willingly do so."
I cackled. "What are we, six? What more, wanna play at the playground? Ride the seesaw? Climb the monkey bars?"
He chuckled. "We could do that."
"Yeah, I can totally imagine you going down the slide whilst squealing like a child," I mused
"I can push you on the swing," he caught my drift.
"Oh yeah? And what? Push me onto the floor?"
"That sounds more like you," he replied.
"Who knows?" I couldn't help but faintly smile. "----but I'd be willing to push you, if you want...on the ground that is."
"Okay, let me go now," I demanded, pushing his chest.
"About that," he says worriedly.
"What?" I tapped my foot impatiently.
"I can see your bra."
. . .
"You're in a good mood today, Avery," Emily says in slight interest, tilting her head as she stared at me like some sort of specimen.
"Har har," I grumbled bitterly, giving a glare to Tom who smiled apologetically. Don't flash me your smile idiot. Damn it.
"So...." Emily prolonged, glancing back and forth with a curious, persistent look. I swear she sometimes pisses me off. But I don't hate her, just that she's so nosy.
"I see you're good friends?" she says in an unsure and amused tone. "----did something amazing happen awhile ago?"
I snickered, plunging my thick brush onto the can of paint too aggressively, then flicked it on the canvas and did some harsh strokes back and forth.
"Avery, calm down."
"I am calm," I gritted my teeth, seeing the bright, obnoxious paint of red stare against me.
It reminds of me blood lust. Yeah, that's how I feel right now.
Bright shade of red. Not technically because of anger and thirst to kill, but of embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, okay?"
"Shut up!" I hissed, my ears feeling hot. I pursed my lips, seeing the red paint splatter across the canvas while I dangled the brush on my fingers.
"So, what happened?" Emily piped up amidst my grumble to leave it alone. But no, she wanted to play gossip detective girl. What's interesting about it anyway?
But that's also precisely why I'm so embarrassed at myself right now. I'm stupid and yet I'm putting my blame on Tom since it seems convenient.
Even though I should've thanked him. I clenched tightly on the brush, hoping it breaks into half.
I'm so embarrassed because I'm stupid.
That's all.
I could still feel and imagine the rush of embarrassment and humiliation coursing through my veins ever since early morning.
How everyone's eyes stared at me like I've done something heinous as going nude or that I was only in my underwear.
Why? Well, to sum it all up.
Tom hugged me because he noticed my bra was shown through my white blouse. Without any jacket or blazer, Tom offers something embarrassing. That is, I stick behind his back like some leech and now people have the wrong idea.
I'd be too embarrassed if people saw my bra, so I really had no choice. I didn't want anyone staring at it and make me feel like I'm some object.
It was humiliating. But he didn't laugh at it or seemed bothered.
That kind of made me feel better.
"Emily...just let it go," Tom cuts Emily off from her interrogation. "---it's kind of personal."
Emily audibly sighed and I swear it was too loud to be a sigh that people from a few seats over could probably hear it. She pouts, finally resigning. "Fine. If you insist. But next time you two have a secret, then you better include me too."
"I promise."
I huffed, not bothering to look up and continued to paint over the sketches our artists in the class drew. I think it's a backdrop for the café.
Well, obviously it is. I dipped my round paint brush on the bowl of water and stared at the paint getting diluted from the brush and sunk its color on the now muddy water.
"This is random, but have you ever heard of this Japanese myth?" Emily attempts to start a conversation, then drops her paintbrush just a second from holding it.
When will she ever work? She keeps on talking. I sighed, ignoring the thought and focused on my work so that I can get some free time.
"It says that on the campfire dance, the last person you dance with will be your soulmate," she perked up.
"Isn't that sweet?" she cooed like the girl she is.
I think it's stupid. And some delusional girl probably made it.
"Yeah, it seems lovely," Tom chimed in, stopping mid-air on his progress. "---but I hope I can have the chance to."
"Oohhh who's the lucky girl?" Emily teased.
I paused, my paintbrush centimeters away on contact with the canvas. The wet paintbrush drips and while I should've dried it before dipping the paint, my thoughts were focused on what they were saying.
Lucky girl, huh.
"Because I like you!"
"You don't have to answer me."
I don't call myself lucky nor could he. He's fallen for the wrong person. Someone who can't love him back. Who can't smile at him or give him the affection he wants.
The one who can't care for him; the one who can't even say thank you and be grateful for his small kind acts.
Being lucky is just an overstatement.
"You have feelings for him."
"You complete each other."
"How about you give him a chance?"
I couldn't help but smile bitterly. Falling in love, is worst case scenario.
Once you plunge deep, you'll be stuck with it. And that's scary. Giving your everything and maybe even losing yourself.
"Ploop."
"Wha----" I blinked and turned around to find Tom looking at me with a smile and with a.....paintbrush pressed on my cheeks.
Does...this have paint on it? If so, then when I turned around..that meant the paint scattered on my...
"Tom!" I screeched, completely forgetting everything and angrily slapped his paintbrush away from my cheeks.
That's it! This demon really placed paint on it! In some twisted sense, I couldn't help but chuckle with insanity as I glint evilly and dipped my paintbrush onto the paint with euphoria and adrenaline rushing through my veins.
I lunged towards him without further notice and smirked as I tackled him on the ground with hands trying to cover his face from me.
Oh, you're not getting anywhere idiot.
As we battled back and forth with mere strength, there was a split second of Tom's weaknesses and I got an opening, plunging my paintbrush onto his face and drew a wiener in such a short time.
It was all curvy and looked so disproportionate but the look of shock on his face was enough to make me blink and in a mere second, burst into loud fits of laughter.
I couldn't help myself. I guffawed as I see him with his stupid wiener drawing across his cheeks and his stunned look. It's so stupid and yet I couldn't help but laugh.
This is hilarious. I swear, I drew a wiener and now I'm laughing so hard? Ha, ha, talk about being mature, Avery. What are you, ten?
My eyes closed due to all these sensations with my stomach starting to hurt and my cheeks starting to ache. Darn, my cheeks are so stiff and it's probably because I rarely smile or laugh.
But whatever.
I finally peered my eyes opened after a minute of laughing and realized that everyone was silent. I turned around and see that everyone was staring at me... not because of hostility, but because of pure bewilderment.
I clamped my mouth shut, a blush erupting my cheeks. I laughed so loud everyone became quiet. Curses. What an embarrassment I'm having today. Am I on a roll right now or not?
They remained silent and I turned back to who started this fight only to find him staring back at me too with a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
Is my laugh....that weird?
Or.....is it shocking that I can laugh?
Yeah. I'm surprised too. You're not alone.