"The original bad boy hates being underestimated."
5| Tickets To Nightmare?
Arsen stands in front me, his eyes intently positioned on his phone as he texts.
Not caring a single bit about my feelings, he already cleared it to the entire class how much he regretted selecting a partnership with me. Frankly, no one even cares. All of us girls are stuck with the infamous troublemakers of the school.
Entirely crestfallen, I wait for the first lesson to begin, even though I fear touching any part of my partner's wet body. He really should have avoided the water balloon fighting in the cafeteria, today.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Dexter, the mean one, begins, "we'll start with a very basic technique, today and focus on complex ones in the upcoming classes. Watch our demonstration, first, and then practice this with your partners."
Him and Mrs. Johnson explain and show how to break free of a grip on your wrist without getting in trouble. Mr. Dexter holds the woman's wrist and she raises the lock as high as she could before stepping under it and twisting his arm behind him. We all stare in sheer amazement--including some guys.
"See, now, you can simply push him and ta da," Mrs. Johnson smiles, shoving her assistant who stumbles a step forward.
"Your turn to try," Mr. Dexter declares.
Unlike the hooligans in the class, all of us girls hesitate. In fact, I share an unusual eye lock with Arsen before he steps forward and catches my wrist. As much as we stay away from each other usually, it's no longer happening.
Focusing on the task at hand, I mimic the first step of bringing up the arms so I can step under and then end up behind Arsen. Instead of allowing my escape, Arsen steps forward, blocking the foot space. Our bodies are mere inches away. His eyes bore into mine in a challenging manner, irking me to the point where I simply wish to kick him where it'll definitely hurt him.
No, it's not the heart.
"Let go," I warn. "You're not following the protocol."
Then again, does he ever?
He rolls his eyes. "Try harder. In a real life situation, your attacker won't stand at a two feet distance." My nostrils flare in anger as my face turns icy. "Out of all the people in the class, you actually have your attacker in front of your eyes, little Miss Cruz," he points out. Hearing those words bring back unwanted memories of that unusually gruesome evening. My dear head and that dead man named Lionell suffered.
"Who's Skylar Johnson?"
For some reason, his face genuinely shows a moment of incredulity before he masks it with seriousness.
"Why are you so concerned about someone you don't even know?" He looks away while waiting for an answer.
Keeping my eyes on his nonchalant face, I answer, "I've first-handed experience of giving up worrying about someone and witnessed quite a malicious result." The statement actually attains me his attention. Of course, I indirectly reffered to him. Unable to read his expression, I add, "I don't want another guilt on my conscience, Arsen."
His grips loosen ever so slightly, though he stands still, wearing nothing but plain blankness.
Devising a plan in my mind, I stomp on his foot, before continuing the grabbing his arm and twisting it behind him. To my luck, Mr. Hudson passes by us at the right time and props up his thumb in approval.
"You can stop enjoying touching me, now," Arsen says.
Having the upper hand, I grasp tighter and twist his arm a little by using both of my hands.
Now, I enjoy touching.
Someone has to follow the procedure.
"What were you saying about rectifying your decision for picking me?" I inquire, feigning ignorance and twisting his arm more.
"Let go before I make you." He struggles lightly.
"I'm not afraid of you," I respond. "Try me--"
Before I can complete my sentence, Arsen somehow moves one of his legs diagonally and horizontally kicks me, sweeping me off balance. I land sideways on the mats and wince in pain at my waist. Everyone around us freeze and survey the scene.
Well, woman down.
"What's wrong?" Mrs. Davis rushes towards us.
Sitting up, I inhale and exhale deeply. My gym teacher's eyes linger on a carefree Arsen, expecting me to snitch and land him in trouble. Since it's the first time in years we're together, I refuse to ruin it, now.
"I slipped during the scenario," I lie.
Arsen glowers.
Mrs. Davis offers me a hand and helps me prop right back on my feet. The other instructors decide to stop the activity to give directions on being careful. Stiffly, I stand by Danie's side and ignore Arsen, who looks uninterested anyways. In no time, the teachers send us all down to the locker rooms to change for dismissal time.
None of my friends actually saw Arsen making me fall, therefore I dismissed the entire thing.
Why worry them unnecessarily and proceed through a barricade of questions, right?
"Val, Isa, do you need a ride to Ben's?" Danie asks, out of the blue. Aloud, Isa and I share our bewilderment. "On my way home, I'm planning to drop by and see how the idiot's doing?"
"Sure, I'll--" Isa starts, I elbow her to shut up.
"In my opinion, too many of us might overwhelm Ben in his fragile health," I explain. "As a matter of fact, if only Danie goes, he'll have a much more peaceful and enjoyable time." Isa needs to comprehend that Ben ended up in the hospital for Danie.
Finally, realization dawns on Isa's face, whereas Danie can't understand why she'd be best to visit alone.
"Definitely. Val, Ben, and I always end up betting on weird things and if we hurt him somehow--" Isa rambles.
"Okay, I'll let you know how he's doing," Danie interjects in time.
Isa and I suppress our smug smiles before heading out of the gym. As usual, the dismissal bell rings at two-thirty, enabling the mostly stressed students to leave the premise.
Glancing around, I see no signs of Sean's or Arsen's groups.
Let me guess, they dragged their fight out of school grounds?
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After changing and completing homework, I hurry to my parents' restaurant.
The aroma of various dishes hit my smell senses and my mouth waters. Not even bothering to greet my hard-working parents, I jog into the kitchen and grab the first dessert my eyes land on.
Chocolate covered strawberries.
"This is delicious." I moan, stuffing the dessert in my mouth. Reaching for the fourth one in no time, my hands receives a slap. "Hey!" I flinch, seeing Mom. "I skipped lunch, today," I say innocently.
"Why?" She tucks some freely wandering hair strands behind her ears and waits for my response.
"Water balloon fight. The wild animals were on the loose, today," I elucidate.
She laughs, shaking her head.
"Take one and go help dad," she says. Grinning foolishly, I grab two delicacies and run for my life, earning words of disapproval behind me.
By the time I reach dad, my stomach's bloated and I crave for a nap. The main chef, Mr. David Cruz, my father, is cooking something sizzling on the grill.
"That's gross," I comment, standing by his side.
At first, he's irritated, though soon the expression transforms into a smile. "That's your dinner," he says playfully. I scrunch my face at the nasty fish. How people eat seafood is beyond me. "How was school?"
"Great. How's the business going?"
"Likewise," he shrugs. "As a matter of fact, for your mom's birthday, I bought a new place."
"Seriously?"
He never buys me a business for my birthday!
Wait, I need to buy a gift for Mom. Her birthday's in two or three weeks, thankfully.
"Well, I bought it under her name, even though I like the place," he answers truthfully. "Whether she likes it or not, I'm giving it to her birthday. Along with a jewelry set." We exchange a knowing look. "She ought to love one of them."
I chuckle.
"Definitely. What's the new place? Another restaurant?" I wonder aloud.
"A diner," he says, taking the fish off the grill with a spatula type utensil and tossing the dish on a huge oval plate. I plop down on the counter as he begins decorating. Waiters are coming and going in and out. Many other cooks focus on the other orders and dishes. "The place's already well-arranged, though it needs some renovations. Since I'm busy, I need a partner to help get it ready." From his tone, I infer he's asking for my helping hand.
"Well, I'm free, nowadays . . . Maybe, my friends will help out as well . . . " I drawl. "What do I get in return?"
"A gift partnership on the diner and," frankly, the gift partnership sounds fine by me, but I wait for the second part, "I'll buy you and your friends VIP tickets to that haunted house you wanted to tour last year. Cab fare included."
Am I hearing things?
Did he really use that offer on me?
"Tickets to Nightmare?" I ask in shock. Compared to how the day started out, the last thing I expected is my father finally allowing me to tour one of the scariest known haunted houses in New York. Danie, Isa, Ben, and I have been dying to visit the place since middle school. All our hopes and dreams will be fulfilled, now! Halloween's the day after Mom's birthday. By then, Ben can also join us!
"Only if the diner is ready for your mom's birthday."
"Deal!"
He briefs me all the necessary information before I settle down with my dinner.
Nightmare!
Yay!
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A/N
Double date? Yes, I'm doing alright. How are you?
Ever travelled to any haunted houses?
I went to one a little while back in NYC but it was a mini-one, scary but still not overly dramatic.
Predictions?
Pretty please vote, comment, and share!
Love ya ♥