Sophia
June 5, 2016.
Sunday Afternoon.
"The things I do for you," I groaned before my twin sister climbed down from the jeep.
A teasing grin played across her mouth. "It's because you love me," she giggled.
I rolled my eyes heavenward. Then, I hopped out of the trembling jeep as well.
We started to ascend the gravelly steps towards SM Sta. Mesa, which was crowded.
Almost two feet away from our designated location, I was having second thoughts.
"You know what, we have school tomorrow," I said in an attempt to weasel out of this craziness.
Stacy flipped her long hair and raised a brow at me. "So? This will only last an hour or two."
I lifted my right hand to my forehead and tried in vain to massage my impending headache.
"Ace, I don't think this is a good idea," I told her for what felt like the tenth time.
To my dismay, she wordlessly took out her compact mirror from her pink purse and applied a fresh tint of lip gloss across her full, moist lips.
She clapped her mirror shut, plunked it in her small bag, and turned to me with a firm look.
"You can't chicken out now, Sop," she told me fervently. "Your mystery guy is in there as we speak," she added, referring to the random stranger that she chose for me. He was logged under the name Ladies_man321, and in his most previous chat message, he emphatically stated that he would be the one wearing a charcoal gray polo shirt.
We agreed to meet at Starbucks.
"But what if he's a delinquent!" I exclaimed, becoming hysterical at the worst-case scenarios.
"Oh for--!! He's in a public place, and his profile picture, although his face was hidden, clearly showed that he's around our age, and he's probably not ugly," my sister grunted.
"Stacy!" I reprimanded her harsh criticism, slapping her bare arm.
"If you don't want to do it for yourself,at least do it for me," my pretty twin said, switching tactics.
I noticed her aquamarine eyes sweep over my clothes, and I felt a dart of guilt zing inside me.
She had spent three hours making a horrifying mess of my closet, chastising my wardrobe choices, as per usual, since I owned only plain, baggy shirts and pants, including loose pajamas, formal outfits, and bundles of sweatshirts, which I usually wear without bottoms.
Today, thanks to Stacy, I looked quite good, if I do say so myself. My long brown hair was tied into a low and messy ponytail sitting over my right shoulder. My glasses were back, and the world suddenly looked clearer through my brown eyes.
I wore a green, short-sleeved blouse, dark skinny jeans, and a smart pair of rubber shoes.
"Please, Sop?" My twin batted her long lashes at me, all innocent-like.
"Fine! Fine, but only because I love you, Ace," I muttered in defeat, folding my arms.
A triumphant smile graced her luscious lips. She smiled at me, her azure eyes shining.
"And where are YOU going to be while I suffer through this ordeal?" I asked her.
Stacy smoothed down her pristine golden tresses and answered: "I have a date today."
"What?" I felt my shoulders droop considerably. "You're not joining me?"
She extended her hand and poked at my forehead. She said: "You're 18 now. You can handle any situation, Sop, and if he tries to pull any suspicious tricks, scream 'Rape' as loud as you can."
A loud sigh escaped my lips. "That's not helpful."
"I disagree," my blonde sister quipped. "I have the same plan."
Stacy twirled around in her lacy pink, off-shoulder dress, asking me how she looked.
"Stunning, as always," I assured her.
"No less than perfection," she told herself, and she pecked my cheek, wishing me luck, before she confidently sashayed inside the popular mall, turning heads as she strutted with poise.
That's Stacy Eris Sta. Ana for you. Beautiful and Ethereal.
One more sigh left my mouth, and I reeled around to glance at the entrance of Starbucks.
I could ditch the guy. I could stand him up, never show for the so-called date at all.
"If you don't want to do it for yourself, at least do it for me."
Darn it, Stacy! And ironically, her badgering voice served as my conscience.
It was usually vice versa.
I didn't budge from my spot, but the longer I stood in front of the famous coffee shop, the more people and oblivious passersby sent me curious and skeptical frowns and glares.
Reaching up for my half-heart pendant, I traced the cursive engraving on it and pepped-talk myself to just head inside the cafe, and so I pushed open the glass door and entered.
I was welcomed by cold air and the delectable scent of coffee brewing and yummy pastries emanating from the display cases and plates of satisfied customers in their booths.
"Charcoal gray polo, charcoal gray polo," I chanted to myself, tightly clutching my black purse.
My chocolate eyes raked over the surroundings, taking in the teenagers and adults making use of the fast internet while munching on doughnuts, and sipping their lattes and mugs of coffee.
After a few seconds of scanning the indoor cafe, I spotted a tall guy in a more secluded part of the establishment, and his back was to me, but he was the only person within the vicinity who wore a charcoal-colored polo, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His pants were white and he had sleek brown hair, smooth and glossy, probably from gel.
It didn't escape my attention that literally every teenage girl in Starbucks was ogling him.
I can do this. It's only for an hour or so.
My sneaker-clad feet moved on their own accord, and I found myself standing behind his chair.
"Ladies_man321?" I bravely ventured as I tapped his shoulder.
The guy tilted his head up and I was struck by a pair of striking blue eyes, a shade so piercing it could possibly rival my own sister's captivating irises.
"Bookworm_brunette604?" he asked monotonously. He sounded so bored.
I nodded, presented him with a polite smile, and held out my right hand for a handshake.
"Nice meeting you," I told him as he stared at my open palm.
Seconds ticked by. He wouldn't accept my handshake. His cerulean eyes just studied me.
To my great shame, I could hear a group of feminine, mocking laughter behind me.
A fierce red rushed to my cheeks in embarrassment as I withdrew my right hand from him.
Feeling somewhat humiliated, I anxiously sank down on the cushy chair opposite the guy.
"My name is Sophia," I introduced myself, summoning a chipper mood. "What's yours?"
"None of your business," he hissed venomously, looking to the side.
Okay. He's rude. But I can be patient.
"Would you like to order drinks? Or maybe a snack?" I offered in a kind tone.
"You're paying," he tersely told me. I flinched at his curt attitude.
Be considerate, Sophia. "Okay," I confirmed, keeping my hands on my lap.
The uncouth stranger threw me an irritated look and recited his order. I easily memorized it and made to stand up but he abruptly spoke again.
"You look like an old maid."
I cringed at his harsh language. Of all the people Stacy could have chosen, it had to be this one.
Patience, Sophia. Patience.
"I can't argue if that's how you see me," I simply told him before approaching the counter.
When I returned to our table carrying a tray of two coffees and plates of doughnuts, I saw an attractive girl sitting in my spot. She had long,dark hair, hazel brown eyes and was wearing a revealing purple dress that reached her thigh.
She was giggling flirtatiously and twirling a black strand of hair around her manicured finger as she fluttered her false lashes at my cold and snobbish companion,who balanced her flirting.
"So, Bryce, can I have your number?" the sexy brunette asked him, then smiled seductively.
"Yeah, sure," Bryce replied, scribbling his phone number on a strip of white paper.
The second he handed his digits over to the girl, I furiously slammed the tray of food on the table, which made everyone in Starbucks turn their heads to look at the three of us.
I flashed a perfunctory smile at the service crew and random customers. "It's nothing. Please carry on. Just a minor dilemma," I charmingly assured the patrons and employees.
"What is your problem?" I demanded once I fixed Bryce with a dark scowl.
"Excuse me, who are you?" the obnoxious brunette shot back, squinting at me.
"I'm his date," I heard myself answering.
The brown-haired guy in a charcoal shirt gave a derisive snort.
"You?" Miss Flirty eyed me from head to foot and laughed aloud. "You're kidding."
Bryce, I presume that's his name, looked at me without interest. "Just go away already."
My brown eyes narrowed at him. "Fine. But I'm taking these with me," I said through gritted teeth while I picked up the tall cups of coffee and plates of sugary bread for to-go bags.
"Leave those," the jerk said flatly.
"Actually, you can take the doughnuts," the girl in a skimpy dress told me, smiling sweetly.
"Unlike you,I watch my figure," she continued,wearing a mean smile. "Bye bye, Miss Nerd."
Bryce's blue eyes were completely void of emotion. He just let the girl insult me in public.
"What are you still doing here,you prude?" he asked in a dull voice. "I'm not going to sleep with you, and it's hilarious that you ever thought I would."
My jaw clenched, my shoulders rigid. I felt my nostrils flare, and I couldn't halt the infuriated blood from rushing to my face and ears.
I was shaking so hard from anger, but I hurriedly composed myself, setting down the food tray.
"One," I began,and held up my right forefinger in front of Bryce's perplexed face.
"I did not want to come here in the first place. I only soldiered through whatever this is, because someone important to me encouraged me to go on a date. And obviously, you weren't worth it."
I held up a second finger. "Two, I never said I wanted to engage in any lascivious acts with you. That kind of mind process occurs after getting to know someone after a generous period of time. And after mere minutes with you? I wouldn't force my worst enemy on you."
A number of tables had started to eavesdrop, but I didn't care. I held up a third finger.
"And lastly, I may not be as appealing as this girl," I said, glancing at the pretty brunette, who seemed torn between flattery and being appalled from being part of the scandalous scene.
I resumed: "But not everything is about looks." I picked up a tall cup of coffee and popped open the white plastic lid, and after removing the seal, I turned to give Bryce a fake smile.
"You want this coffee? You can have it," I said and ignored the shrieks when I poured the contents of the tall cup over Bryce's head. The hot brown liquid spilled over his hair to his skin and shirt.
"You bitch!" he shouted at me, but I was already grabbing the second coffee before storming out of the crowded cafe.