Stacy
After my wonderful sister shooed me away from glaring at Hanna Mendoza, I scurried off to my friends, Miles, Dylan, and Selena, the three of them already waving at me and calling me over.
"We saw your name," Miles told me by way of greeting.She patted my back and said: "Good luck."
A crease formed between by brows as I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't see who else was on the list?" She gaped at me in incredulity.
I saw Selena shake her head as she said: "Alison, Heather, and Barbie signed up for the pep squad, too."
Ah. So that's it. They were worried about me. As usual.
Crossing my long arms over my chest, I smiled to myself before declaring: "I can handle them."
Dylan shot me a meaningful look. "Are you sure, Ace?"
My blue eyes narrowed at him. "Of course, Dy. When have I ever shrunk down?"
The handsome teen suddenly averted his eyes from mine, his posture discomfited.
I was about to demand him to say what he was thinking, but I heard someone call my twin.
"Sophia!"
Swiftly, I turned to my right, and I saw two people weaving through the thick crowd of students, hustling and bustling in front of the bulletin board pinned with club lists.
What got my attention first was the guy--he was quite tall, around six feet or so, and he had tousled black hair with long bangs, inwardly curved, and cut above his brown eyes. His uniform of a white polo, blue tie and blue slacks fit him well, though he seemed modest about his looks.
Handsome and Innocent.
Interesting.
But then my azure eyes slid to the person on his left side, and my eyebrows furrowed at the sight of her.
She was, frankly, average in height, and she was skinny, so in short, petite. I furtively examined her outward appearance. Her hair was black,short,and voluminous. It suited her face, but there was something so cloying and annoying about her. It was a vibe I've sensed hundreds of times.
The dark blue pencil skirt she wore was cut way above her knees, and I scrunched my nose in distaste. Even I wouldn't wear something so risque and provocative, and that's saying a lot.
I felt somebody nudge my arm. "Hey, Ace. What are you staring at?" Miles asked me.
"Hmm," I simply hummed in reply, my eyes still riveted on the tall, black-haired young man.
"Uh-oh," Selena said, following my gaze. "I know that look, Ace."
I felt Dylan lightly kick my shoe with his, making me glance at him. "What?"
"Are you sure you want this one? He seems more your sister's type," my friend told me.
I sputtered a laugh, casting a brief smile in Sophia's direction. She was casually talking to him.
Bringing my eyes back to Dylan, I replied: "My twin? She's not into the dating thing. And even if she were, I know she wouldn't pull a fast one on me. We would never deliberately hurt each other." I darted another side-glance at my bespectacled, brown-eyed, brown-haired sibling.
"Deliberately," Selena muttered.
I glared at her. "What was that, Len?" See, the trick about girls asking, 'What did you say' doesn't imply that she didn't hear you the first time. Oh, she heard you. But she's giving you a chance to mend your statement, otherwise there would be hell to pay.
"I said you're pretty," she said more clearly, then rolled her hazel eyes skyward.
With a flip of my long blonde hair, I told her: "I know."
Honesty or conceit, there's often a fine line between the two. But I've always known how I looked. I wouldn't be a part-time model if I didn't have the hair, the face, and the body for it.
Miles inquired: "Since you have your mind set on this guy, how about Mr. Door-slammer?"
Again, I let out an indignant laugh. "What about him? He's just a jerk with too much pride."
"A handsome jerk," Dylan interjected, raising his right forefinger.
I gave him an irritated look. "If you think that way, then maybe YOU should ask him out."
"No thanks, I'm still into girls," he retorted dryly, dropping his hand to his side.
"Whatever," I said and gazed at the black-haired stranger again. Not bad.
Though I'll never admit it aloud, Dylan was right: He looked more like Sophia's type.
From my short assessment of him, the guy seemed shy. An endearing timidity, but also an air of intrigue. He struck me as someone who would play fair to get what he wants. His demeanor was calm,collected, and affable. Very approachable, with a long temper, quite patient. Hmm.
He really didn't feel like the kind of guy I usually went out with, but what he hell? He's cute.
I was about to make the first move--which was rare--when a hand suddenly caught my wrist.
"Where are you going?" my assailant asked me.
Shit. His grip was strong and tight,like a vise. I shot him a dirty look. "Let go of my hand."
His eyes were pleading as he cajoled: "Please, Stacy. I need to talk to you."
"Oh? Need is a powerful word," I said coldly while struggling to break free from his hold.
"Just ten minutes," the guy asked.
I was still squirming my hand, a futile attempt to pry my wrist free from his masculine fingers.
"Ten minutes? I've wasted too much time with cheating bastards like you. Let go," I repeated.
"It was a mistake." He wouldn't release my wrist. "I already said I was sorry."
Angrily and relentlessly, I tugged at my hand but he wouldn't budge. So I looked at him with pure hatred in my eyes. What's done was done. I was over him. But that didn't make me hate him any less for what he did.
"You're sorry? Were you sorry because you got caught? You wouldn't have apologized if I hadn't busted you personally. If I had arrived just a few minutes later, you still would have swapped spit with that bimbo of yours." I peered at his reaction. "Am I correct?"
Mark Domingo's face paled and he wore the look of a guilty person. Hah. My query had taken him aback, and the paralyzed state he was in finally provided my wrist freedom from his hold.
"Stacy, I'm--"
"Don't. I'm sick of hearing your lies. Why do you want my forgiveness anyway? Do you think it's going to make you feel vindicated? Justified for the shit you pulled? Hell no. Because whether or not I give a damn about you and your begging, you'll never fall into my good graces again."
Without awaiting his reply, I broke into a satisfied smile over the fact that everyone within eavesdropping range had been engulfed in astonishment from my little, dramatic speech.
I flicked my long shiny hair behind my shoulder and held my chin up as I strutted away from that scene and onto the next one: Towards my sister and her group of simple yet trusty buddies.
It was Sophia who smiled at me first. I smiled back at her.
"Ace! I'd like you to meet---"
I waved a hand at her, interrupting her as I looked at the tall stranger and introduced myself.
"Hi. The name is Stacy Eris Sta. Ana, and it would do you good to remember my name."
Surprise registered into his kind and attractive features, but he recovered after a moment.
"Lucas De Los Reyes," he obliged while we shook hands. "Eris? You mean, the goddess of mischief and discord?" he went on.
"Now that makes a LOT of sense," a somewhat familiar voice called out.
I whipped my head around to see yet another tall guy striding towards us,his arms behind his head, and a devious smirk decorating his handsome face. At once, my blood boiled.
Sophia's bewildered expression mirrored her friends', but I was fuming at the sight of the newcomer. His brown hair was swept to the side like the first time I saw him, and he pinned his deep blue orbs onto mine the entire time he spoke and stopped beside Lucas.
"Everyone, this is my twin, Bryce De Los Reyes," Lucas announced, and my jaw dropped.
Sophia gave me a loaded look, and I could see her eyes saying the same thing on my mind.
THEY'RE BROTHERS!?