we need somebody just to feel like we're alright?
Is the only reason you're holding me tonight,
'Cause we're scared to be lonely?
- Scared To Be Lonely, Martin Garrix and Dua Lipa
~*~
"Catherine, I've been expecting you."
I pushed the door further and peeped inside. "Mom?"
"Yes, come in," she said, arranging the papers scattered on her desk. When she spotted me, she looked up and smiled softly.
When my dad died, my mom quit her job as a lawyer and worked to become a teacher; a teacher in my school. Losing her husband had made her afraid of losing another family member and hence, she wanted to keep her kids closer to her.
When the twins left to London, it broke her heart. Deep in her heart, I knew that she was still scared for the lives of the people around her.
"Here's the key," she said, handing a heart-shaped keychain to me. "I'll be home late, at around eight, is that fine?"
Her lips were pursed in silent disapproval and her hands clenched and unclenched in obvious discomfort. She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I got the message.
Stay safe.
"I'll be alright, mom," I told her, reaching out to pat her back. "Don't you worry."
She muttered something under her breath which was undistinctive to my ears. When she saw me staring at her, she shook her head and smiled wearily.
"Just one more thing." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear -- a habit of hers when she was nervous -- and pointed at her attendance register. "Tell Zachary that if he misses another class, he'll have to spend another dance catching up with his work."
"Sure," I replied, having not registered her words completely. I grinned at her and waved enthusiastically. "See you later!"
She chuckled at my cheeriness and the wrinkles in her forehead suppressed a little. "Goodbye, Cath."
Just as I was about to pull the doorknob, it struck me. A certain sentence started nagging me, making me walk back towards my mother.
"Another dance catching up with work?" I quoted her words, a questioning tone in my voice. "Zach missed a dance?"
"Yeah, the Masquerade Ball, the Spring Dance," my mom replied, without looking at me. "He was sitting right here with me and two other teachers."
I could hear the ruffling of papers and the click of a pen in the silence which fell after her statement. The quietness stretched as long the river Nile, seemingly never-ending.
"Is there anything wrong, Cat?" This time, my mom was looking at me, a deep frown etched on her face, accompanied by worried lines on her forehead.
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head to relieve the giddiness. "I'll get going."
My body was numb and my brain was slow to process my mother's words. It took a long time for the message to click, and when it did, my eyes bulged to the size of tennis balls.
For that could only mean one thing. Zachary Smith did not attend the Spring Dance.
Zachary Smith wasn't Mystery Boy.
• • • • •
"I don't need a Prince Charming to save my ass," I told Lizzie. "I am capable of taking care of myself."
"Oh, but you see." I could almost see her dreamy eyes and clutched heart on the other end of the line. "Isn't that what every girl hopes for? A Knight in Shining Armor to melt their heart?"
"I don't believe in all that crap," I countered, chuckling lightly. "That's way too cheesy for my liking."
"Cat?" I heard a different voice calling, the sound echoing through the walls.
"Hey, Lizzie, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"See ya."
As I put my phone in my pocket, I turned around to see Jason sprawled on my bed, his eyes glued to the ceiling.
"This bed is comfy," he said, bouncing up and down on the mattress. "I almost fell asleep."
"I just smoothened the bed sheets," I sighed, walking towards my bed and patting it down once again. "It looks so blue and pretty, and you're spoiling it."
I practically pushed him off my bed and he jumped, turning to me in reproach. "Alright, alright," he muttered, slowly standing up and walking to the other side."
I'd called Jason and informed him about my new found information about Mystery Boy. He said that since he couldn't hear me very well over the phone, he'd stop by my house for a few minutes.
"Hey," Jason started, plopping down on the bed once more, much to my annoyance. "A word of advice -- stop thinking about your 'Mystery Boy'. If he'd cared enough, he would've confessed to you by now. You deserve better."
"I'm not thinking about him," I snapped, punching him lightly on the arm. "I thought it was your best friend for a week, dumbass. I treated him like crap, and now . . . "
"And now?" he prompted, willing me to complete my sentence.
"And now . . . I'm just wondering who Zach was covering for," I completed, placing a finger on my chin. "Why did he admit to it being him and lie about it?"
Jason opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off immediately.
"You know what, I don't care," I said, sitting down next to Jason. "You're right. I'm just going to forget all about Mystery Boy and live my life in peace."
"Why did you care about him in the first place?" Jason's voice was soft and there was a worried tinge to his tone. That made me turn sharply towards him before taking a deep breath.
"I thought that there was something wrong with me." I looked down at my feet and swallowed once before continuing. "I thought that I had some sort of . . . repulsive quality that -- "
"Hey," Jason interrupted me. I felt a hand on my shoulder, making me turn towards him. "There's nothing repulsive about you, nothing."
Jace's face was solemn; completely serious for the first time. His eyes were glowing softly with an emotion I did not recognize. His brown curls fell over his eyes but he didn't bother to push it back.
The intensity of the moment increased tenfold while I just stared at him, no words coming out of my mouth. My breath caught in my throat as I inhaled, coming out as short huffs of breath.
Time seemed to slow down, or speed up, I didn't know which. For before I knew it, Jace's face was a few centimeters away from mine.
"Cath?" I could hear someone calling my name, but the sound was very faint as if it was coming from the back of my find. The sound of footsteps was fainter, like a part of a non-existent dream.
My heart started beating faster as he came even closer, so close that I could see the tips of his long eyelashes -- eyelashes which every girl would die to have.
Before I knew it, our mouths collided and he was kissing me, slowly, and a little hesitantly.
And, much to my own surprise, I was kissing him back.
• • • • • • • • • •
Whoa, hold up! Take a deep breath and say, "The Mockingjay2544 sucks at writing romantic scenes."
Well, it's true.
If it didn't come out okay, do tell me what I should do to make it better because I'm not sure how this chapter came out.
Anyway, if you liked this chapter, don't forget to vote and maybe drop a comment or two. Or a hundred, I don't mind. ;)
See y'all later!
