Epic Love (Triangle)

Chapter 3

Breathe... in...out...in...out...

I suddenly seemed to have trouble breathing I was tempted to call out 'CPR nga here, please!'

Peter walked the length of the theater to a bench strictly for professors only, and though I could only stare, I knew they were going to discuss the play that Miss Sandy told us was going to be the highlight of this semester's student org festivities. I held my breath as I stared at him until he was blocked from my view, and it nicked me somehow that my happiness rests on Peter's appearance each day: pathetic, but that was the case. And as my heart did a nosedive like an airplane in distress, I wished I were more mature, more interesting, and more beautiful so he'd take notice. (Erase and rewind: why the word 'more' on interesting and beautiful? I was not even those to begin with!) What are they laughing about? Hay, how I wished I knew what made his face look comic. It's a wonder of all wonders that I'd get to see him the second time because usually, I'd get my chance of a glimpse of him only in the morning by the post-it wall (me and my stalking tendencies). But to my horror (talk about bad luck!) Miss Sandy would pick this moment to have me recite Act Three.

Peter would see me, my mind screamed. I could almost picture him seeing me making a fool of myself; and hearing the croak in my voice as he laughed like the rest of the class. I saw Justin, one of the few promising actors in our batch raise his hand just as I was standing up uncertainly, eyes riveted to Peter on his end. "Eh, Miss... Justin's volunteering oh."

"Eh, Miss Shanni," Miss Sandy answered mimicking my voice at the delight of the class, "I wanted you to recite, not him."

"But Miss, this act has way too many characters!" And I was afraid I'd make a bigger fool of myself, switching from one role to another in full view of Sir Peter, who just might be looking at me now (I wish!).

"That's why I'm asking all of you to recite it, so I'd know what role suits you."

I grimaced. Saw some class mates laugh at the frown on my face. I bit back a retort that I'm not suited to any role, much less be in this class. And though I was feeling indignant, my hands had started sweating.

And so I began reading with the faintest of feelings, annoyed with Miss Sandy for the first time.

As I progressed with the script, I could almost feel the stares, the whispers, and the laughter as I changed from one tone to another, depending on the characters. As time progressed I began to enjoy reading the script, and before I knew it, I was already making the class laugh and Miss Sandy nodding her head in delight.

I did well. I was sure of it. I may even be a shoo-in for the lead role.

But there was no Peter when I took a bow and sat down with a flourish.