Crazy is the Name of My Game

( 3 ) I'm no bitch.

 Erica Santos

Although I should be in a hurry, I lulled to a stop.

It was silly, I knew, but I pinched myself to prove I wasn’t dreaming. Ouch.

Okay. He’s real enough.

Well, what the hell was that guy doing up there? And how on earth did he get up there? The height was dizzying and if he fell, it would surely break a bone or two. It was a curious thing.

No pledged writer would ignore these little things. Writer Rule #3 Learn to observe your surroundings.

Mr. Blondie was about my age, but he wasn’t wearing the compulsory blue uniform. He also didn’t seem to be in a hurry so he was clearly not a student of this school. Despite the distance, I could see he was looking for something. Or someone. Frustration was written all over his face.

As I puzzled over the weird guy, his searching green eyes flashed to me. My face burned beet red.

His eyes widened when our gazes locked.

And then he was falling sideways.

“Oh crap!” I gasped in horror.

My head whipped to my sides. The hallways were almost empty. Someone must help him! I snatched my phone from my pocket, about to speed dial emergency, when I heard the muted thud outside. I was prepared to call for help, but I realized it wasn’t necessary.

The blonde guy landed perfectly on his feet, not a scratch on him. I let out a long sigh of relief. Gosh. I almost had a heart attack!

Jumping, not falling. Sheesh! Was he insane?!

My knees felt spongy that I had to lean on the wall for support. At least he was fine. When a hand gripped my shoulders, I flinched. Something blue caught my line of sight.

“Greene!” I spat like an expletive.

I must’ve looked abnormally pale because his smirk faded from his egotistical face. His blue eyes darkened. “Are you all right? Saw a ghost, little freak?”

Was he teasing me? But it sounded wrong... must be my imagination.

“You’re seeing things,” I scowled in return, shrugging off his too big hands on my shoulders. “Get your eyes checked, stupid.”

Annoyed, I stepped on his Converse. I was grateful when the second bell rang, and I scurried towards my personal hell. Calculus.

When I looked back to double-check, I saw a serious-looking Jason staring out of the windows, a grim frown on his face. For a moment, it scared me. And then I was off, quickly dispelling the shivers running through my body.

* * *

When the dismissal bell rang, I knew I was in deep shit. I got goose bumps all over me, a warning that never failed me in the past. So when I left the classroom, I was edgy.

Bullying never got on my nerves. Not until that blue-haired monster appeared. And his way was always over the top. So as precaution, I used the backdoor of the school building, the hall farthest away from the parking lot that a very few bothered to go through it.

I was aware someone was following me.

Whatta! A psycho? Maybe I should use some karate chop moves, or plain old butt-kicking boxing hook. Or maybe use a special ninja technique on this pursuer of mine. A shuriken or kunai. Oh, maybe, just maybe, I should press the fire alarm button. That's going to be a blast!

Hah!

But what if I couldn't harm it? Or scare it away?

I was hyperventilating.

That was when my head got the better of me. Maybe I was reading too much mystery books, or watching more than healthy dose of horror films. Panic made me ran, my rational mind unable to calm me. But when the footsteps got louder, I was too chicken to move.

Crazy that I was fearless in front of people, yet these kind things almost squeezed my breath out of me.

I almost smiled at my stupidity when I saw three girls strutting towards me. Two blondes, one brunette. Not a ghost. Nor a murderer. Good grief.

“Well, well, you finally stopped,” spoke the girl in the middle, the prettiest among them. Her voice was soft and high, the kind that went along with pink bubble gums and blonde curls. And she definitely had both. Her face was wrinkled with impatience, but she was definitely something. Her eyes were Irish emeralds, and her face was cherubic.

I immediately decided that I wanted to have her as my main character – her face at least. When I noticed the two girls flanking her, recognition hit me.

The Barbie bimbos? The ones sitting on Greene’s lunch table?

Oh, I think I know what they were up to. I sighed meaningfully. This was so cliché.

“Look here you arrogant bitch – “ but before she started her sermon, I silenced her with a finger.

“I’m looking,” I cut coolly, almost menacing, “and I totally get what you’re going to say. Let me guess. You plan to intimidate me and threaten me to stay away from the jerk, don’t mess with you, find my own place or something along those lines.”

Their mouths popped open.

"Yeah."

I sighed again, smiling faintly but not smugly. “I’m not interested in him or in any of you. Just leave me at peace, and I call it quits.”

Barbie bimbo#1 still appeared skeptical. Bimbo #2 and #3 exchanged a loaded look.

“I hate blue,” I emphasized.

"I can't trust you."

"I didn't tell you have to."

"I hate your guts." She flipped her hair as she popped her gum. "You think you are so great."

But I am. "Not that I care."

She smirked. "So, you'll stay away?"

"Look," I said in exasperation. Do I have to repeat every single word I said? Good grief. "Could you try to collar him so he'll stay away from me? He's downright annoying."

"You don't like him?"

"No."

"That's weird," she frowned. "You're not playing hard to get?"

I wanted to puke at her idea. "Me? To him? Eww!"

Her luscious pink lips curled into a lovely half-moon, silently sealing our lopsided deal. “You know, I think I like you.”

I laughed at that. “I like myself too.”

Barbie bimbo #1 seemed satisfied. She turned away, and I was about to eagerly escape when they paused.

“But I will watch you, Erica Santos,” she warned while chewing her bubble gum.

“I’m not fond of stalkers, Barb – “ then I recalled that might sound rude, so I backtracked. What's her name? “ – Janna Williams."

Their sharp glares zeroed on me in an uncomfortable way. Probably got it wrong so I tried again. "Uhm, Elena? Hanna?”

Barbie # 3, the tall brunette, corrected me. "It's Leana Adams."

"Right," I nodded, "Leana. Cool."

They giggled at my expression. So high school–ish. Well, I was forcing myself to smile, and I didn't know whether it came out right. They could laugh all they want and I wouldn't really care.

“Call me Lee.”

Whatever.

Relieved, I casually walked on my way to the car park. I guess that would mean they wouldn't bother me anymore -- which was good.

Before I left the school grounds, my gaze lingered on the huge tree where I first saw the weird blond guy. I wondered what happened. Then I remembered Greene's expression.

Ugh.

Nyao.

I'm officially sleepy. *yawns*