The Art of Playing Love

Chapter Four - Round Three

          The night of the Bachelor’s Ball had finally come. Every girl from NDPA was busy preparing themselves for the grand ball, except for Noah Holman: the editor in chief of the school’s paper, ND Weekly who bears no interest in being chosen as one of the six women the Bachelor’s going to date.

          Everything sophisticated, that was what you’ll see in the school’s De Mazenod Hall, the venue of the ball. Everyone was in their classy dresses and gowns and tux, all for the same reason: the women to be chosen and the men to witness the whole shebang.

          Ostentatious… That’s what, what Noah thinks about these people.

          Noah was at her house, watching action films with her father—the way she always do every year when this time of year comes.

          ‘Caught Shelby making out with Travis in her bedroom when I planned to surprise her… turned out I was the one who got surprised… I’m sorry Noah. You were right. Best friends again? –Your Matty.’

          Noah ignored her best friend’s message, threw her phone at her side and then continued munching on her popcorn as she locked her eyes on the TV again.

          “Noah.” Her dad called.

          She slightly flinched. “Yes Father?”

          “Why are you not attending that… that Bachelor’s Ball? Ever since freshmen year till now, for three years, I keep hearing how excited Erica is about that ball yet you… you always invite me to an action marathon. Why is that honey?”

          Noah sighed. “Father, I thought we talked about this already?”

          “And somehow, you’ve always managed to steer clear of it.” Mr. Holman said. “But not this time no. You won’t get away with it.”

          “I hate attention Father. You should know that since I inherited it from you.”

          “Then lay-low. I’m perfectly sure you don’t hate dressing up. It’s not like you’re going to get picked anyway…”

          Noah scoffed. “Father, is that lack of confidence I hear?”

          “No, sweetie.” said Mr. Holman. “It is reverse psychology you heard.”

          “Any other way, it’s already too late to convince me. The ball starts at nine and it’s already eleven o’clock.”

          Mr. Holman had a wide grin on his face. “It’s never late for a late entrance.”

          “That’s basically calling for attention. It’s like shouting ‘Hey Bachelor, pick me, pick me!’ when you enter.”

          Mr. Holman chuckled at his daughter’s response. “Do whatever you want, honey. It’s your choice. But don’t blame me if you grow old alone.”

          Noah snorted. “Is that reverse psychology again?”

          “Hmm… sort of.”

          The two Holmans lapsed back to silence and was slowly absorbed by their movie. In truth, Noah was being slowly eaten by her repelling mind.

         What if some revelation happens tonight? I wouldn’t be there to cover it. Wait! My assistant is going to be there and so is my team. I don’t have anything to worry about—not missing any happening neither being picked. For now, I just have to enjoy tonight with my dad and prepare myself for tomorrow. I have a long day promising for tomorrow. I’d be the first to get the list of the love hopefuls and it’d be my pleasure to create an article about it.

          God, tomorrow’s going to be sickly pleasurable.

                                                  *                    *                    *

          “Are the results out?” asked Erica. “Are they? Are they?”

          Noah grunted in frustration. Erica had been asking her over and over again ever since they met for the day, she had not stopped questioning her about it. “Erica, the results are out when they’re out, okay? Just wait for it.”

          Erica made a distorted face on Noah but Noah just rolled her eyes as a retort. A few moments after, they both received a similar message from Kasey.

          ‘Guys, bulletin board ASAP… you would not believe this! –Kasey.’

          The two girls glanced at the other’s direction before obeying the message. Once they arrived at the crowded place, Kasey immediately tugged them at hands and hauled them to the board.

          There were six papers, each bearing the profile of a chosen female—the picture and basic information. As Noah took in each and every girl in those papers, from left to right, she realized two of those girls she knows very well, Kasey and Erica.

          “You were chosen Kasey!” cried Noah, getting a grab of Kasey’s shoulder gently. “I can believe that Kasey. Although I can’t believe that Erica’s chosen as well.”

          Kasey frowned in sympathy at her friend, who still hasn’t taken in everything before her. “That’s not what’s unbelievable Noah. Look…”

          And Noah’s eyes descended to the last paper, her heart skipped a beat, her breath getting stuck at her throat, obstructing air to pass. Cold water trickled down her temple, stone cold product of the grotesque play before her. Until eventually, all she could do was say three simple words than meant nothing else than how it  sounds...

          “Holy fucking shit…”