Blackout

Chapter 11:

Chapter Eleven

Suddenly, my body seems like a massive amount of crystal being crushed by a larger truck. My leg involuntary moved and tried to follow Adrian inside.

“Adrian, wait!” I called after him.

He pretended not to hear me. He continued on his track upstairs. I, being an inane person, followed him. Even though I knew that he is sulking about something, I still chose to go after him.

“Hey,” I said when he finally stopped walking. I was trying to catch my  breath because Adrian, being the usual him, walked too fast using his long and skinny legs that even a girl’s jean would fit. My eyes roamed around the place where he stopped; my room.

“What?” He asked, raising his voice. But I chose to ignore it.

“Well, I just want to tell you that I ranked second.” I said, finally flashing my smile.

Adrian went quiet and shot me a serious look.

“Who the hell cares?” He said as he shifted his gaze away from me. My smile immediately dropped.

Have your bellybutton accidentally hit a corner of a table? The pain was unbearable that you feel like dying, right?

Right now, I can feel that pain. But I’m feeling it inside my chest. I’ve always thought that he would be proud of me, like when we were just kids. It pains me because his face was the one that flashed in my mind when Miss Mitchell announced the rankings.

“Um,” I muttered, not able to find the words to say, and at the same time, not able to look at his eyes that suddenly looked like an alien to me.

“Do you expect me to do a pirouette?” I can sense his smirk even though his back was facing me. Those sentences he added made my heart break more. Is he being sarcastic? He used to do pirouettes when I was feeling down, just to make me smile.

He set the duvet on the side of the bed and lay there. He covered his eyes with his uninjured arm. I can see that his breathing started to get deep by the movement of his chest. I can’t determine if he’s really asleep, or he’s just pretending. Besides, he’s good with it.

“What a motherfucker,” I say as I glare at him. I know he can sense my fierce gaze even though his eyes are covered. “You say harsh things to me, and then the next minute you sleep on my bed?”

“Oh yeah,” he spoke. “I’ve been sleeping here for a couple of days. Why do you care just now?”

“Because you’re an ass,” I said.

“I know.” He said simply. His arm is still.

“You know?” I chuckled sarcastically. “Then why don’t you find a decent job right now, to buy your own apartment and leave here. And when you find your girlfriend, you’re gonna bring her there and you’ll live happily ever after like Little Mermaid did.”

Once those words slipped out of my mouth, I instantly regretted them. Why am I kicking him out of my house? No, I don’t mean it because I can’t live without him. Stupid mouth.

He tore his arms away from his face, and stared at me. His gaze was challenging. The corners of his lips went up as he plastered his trademark smirk on his mouth.

“Little Mermaid and happily ever after don’t get along well,” he finally said. “Didn’t you know that she vanished into thin air?”

Now, I felt really dumb realizing that happy endings only exist if Walt Disney wrote the script. Of course, that stupid mermaid just vanished like a bubble in the sea.