|WATTYS 2021 Shortlisted| ❝Teach me.❞ ❝Teach you what?❞ ❝Teach me how to be a bad boy.❞
Elias Rodriguez has a crush on a certain cheerleader (since forever), but she has a thing for bad boys, not chemistry nerds. Lucky for him, the cheerleader's bes...
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BONUS | Extended ending + Last note
The slight hum of music filled the room as the stench of alcohol assaulted his nose.
With one last sigh, he straightened his jacket and walked towards the familiar figure.
Her brown hair now had some blond highlights as her form seemed to have grown over the span of the past five years. With hair piled up in a messy bun, she stood out in the crowd.
He felt worry slip over his expression as he noticed her hunched form as her fingers traced the rim of her glass.
Wordlessly, he took the spot next to her but didn't bother calling her name. Motioning at the bartender, he ordered his drink. "Can I get a whiskey on rocks?"
The bartender nodded as the guy in the suit noticed the stiff shoulders of the girl.
She didn't bother to meet his eyes as she spoke her next question. "What are you doing here, Eli? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere doing stuff with chemicals?" Cynthia's voice portrayed her disdain at his presence.
He rolled his eyes and brought the drink to his lips. A burn flowed down his throat as he gazed down at her. "Didn't know that my mere sight is so repulsive for you that you refuse to look my way," he retorted, making Cynthia straighten.
She turned towards him with a fire glowing in her cocoa eyes. The cerulean eyes displayed the same fire of anger in icy hues.
"Yeah! You are a sore sight for me! Now, can you just fuck off?" she hissed, leaning closer to him.
Elias smirked slightly at her words and silently sipped the drink. He shrugged his shoulders in defiance and stayed rooted to his spot. "I am here to talk to you, but if fighting is what you are good at, then let's fight."
Cynthia's eyes frosted over at his words as her anger roared to another level. "The same way you are good at running away?" she spat, making Elias wince.
Cynthia didn't need to refer to the incident to remind him of his deed. The night from three years ago played through his mind, making him shift in his seat with unease.
He cleared his throat and willed the image away from his mind (which seemed harder than usual).
"Anyway, I am not here to fight," he confessed. "I am here to talk. I heard about what happened to Azalea."
Sudden images danced in Cynthia's mind as pain returned with full force. The image of her sister shaking with seizures as her head lay in the pool of her vomit filled Cynthia's mind. Drug overdose was a disturbing death for Azalea Crimson.
His words made her freeze as all forms of emotions vanished from her face, leaving a void in her eyes. With Elias's scrutinizing gaze on her, Cynthia averted her eyes.
