Perfect Star

[9] Bernice

A lot of people are curious who is Bernice, so I decided to write a story that talks about her.

Although this story did not really focus on her.

So here you go, I hope you'll enjoy!

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Chapter 9

I grabbed Chris when he entered the locker room and punched him hard on the face. We are actually on the football lockers and all of the other players were shocked when I did that. They knew that Chris is my best friend and we rarely fight. This time, I just couldn't help myself.

“What the fuck did you do that for bro?” He asked while wiping the blood on the side of his mouth. It was obviously registered on his face that he was surprised.

“Screw you man!” I swoop my hair as I already lost my patience. I am not the kind of man who controls his anger especially if the feeling of frustration is overflowing within my midst. It's kinda overwhelming me.

“How on earth did you get the dress?” I asked. Trying hard not to yell at him coz we are really causing a scene here.

“From you…” He answered. “You accidentally left it back when you were out there acting like a mad man!”

I remembered now. I was drunk and hurting when I received the news about Bernice. Chris was calming me down as I was drowning myself with alcohol. Alcohol is poison, I know, but there are just things inside of me that I need to kill, my sorrow perhaps. I was really shattered into pieces when I've heard the news.

I slammed my fist on one of the lockers. All this time the dress was just in Chris' hands. I have been looking for that for a long time. I kept wondering if I had lost it and maybe it was really meant to be lost, after all, she's gone.

“Why didn’t you give it back?”

“What for?” Instead of answering he just throw me a question which makes me even more furious.

“You’ll never gonna get a chance to give it to her anyway!” That was a dick move!

I punched him again in the face.

“Take that back!” I yelled at him.

“Dude! She’s gone. She’s never coming back!” He yelled back at me.

“You stupid asshole!”

Both of us were engaged into a fist fight. Our team mates tried to stop us but they couldn’t.

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“P-r-r-r-t-t-t”

It came from Coach Jim's whistle.

“Bacon! Nolan!” He yelled and only then did we stop.

“To Principal Abron’s office.” Coach Jim said with full authority.

“Now!” And blew hard on his whistle one last time.

I let go of those people who held me and walked away.

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“Mr. Nolan!” Principal Abron said as he sat on his chair. I hate seeing this bearded Indian-looking Frankenstein. I've been in and out of his office last year because I was always getting into trouble or should I say, I was always looking for trouble.