Stacy
Monday morning strolled in.
Our professor was droning on about pattern cutting, its history, icons, and procedure while everyone in class snapped pictures of the power-point presentation with their phones.
Because the lights were flicked off and the classroom was pitch-dark, our male, elderly professor wouldn't be able to notice if anyone was actually paying attention to him, but I was being attentive and scribbled down loopy notes in my notebook even though I had a hard time staying awake. He was speaking like a robot whose oil needed tuning. I really wanted to nap right now.
"Ah!" I yelped in shock when a wad of paper hit the back of my head.
I rubbed my scalp and threw a sharp glare over my shoulder to find the perpetrator.
Suspect #1 was Alison, whose arms were crossed, her brow arched, and a devious smile stretching her red plump lips. Could she have thrown the paper ball at me? Possibly.
Suspect #2 was Barbie, but she had her earphones in her ears and her head was unconscious on her desk. Okay, she was out of the lineup.
Suspect #3 was Heather, who was cupping her face in both hands as she smirked at me.
Wait a second.
While Alison's and Barbie's desks were completely clear of items, Heather had a thick notebook carelessly sprawled on her own table. So she was the culprit.
I returned my concentration to my professor's lecture. I couldn't afford to ruin my grades.
Just ignore them, Stacy.
Thirty minutes and four more paper balls hurled at my head, the lunch bell rang.
Hallelujah!
Okay. I needed to talk to Sophia so I could revive my sanity from the grueling class.
She's wouldn't spoil her appetite and skip lunch, so I searched for her at the main canteen, and when she wasn't there, I resorted to the other university cafeteria. No dice. Where WAS my twin?
The park-like garden with the marble benches and tables under ancient trees! Sophia loved nature and isolation. Maybe she was there, reading a book or working on a newspaper article.
Oh Good Gosh, I was running out of breath and I was actually perspiring! That girl was going to pay for making me break into a sprint when it wasn't part of my exercise routine to keep fit.
That sneaky little bookworm.
Bookworm. Right.
I started to change direction, fast-walking in a path that led to the library, and I was almost there when a sudden detour blocked my way.
"What the hell? You're still following me?" I hissed at him.
"I just need a few minutes of your time," Mark Domingo begged me.
"And I don't intend to give you another second," I lashed at him.
"Stacy, please, please give me another chance," he pleaded.
"Stay away from me!" I told him.
I ignored Mark when he continued to follow me, but then another guy blocked my path.
"Stacy, hey!You were really great last Friday night at the Miss Orion Pageant," Roby told me.
I racked my brain to see if I knew him. Robert Chavez. Another one of my fans and admirers.
"Yeah, I know," I said without interest. "Could you step aside?"
"But why? I was gonna ask if you're free sometime this week? Maybe dinner?"
"I'm not free. I'm fucking expensive. No get out of my way, Chavez," I snapped coldly.
"Oh? How much for one night?" he asked as he leaned closer to my face.
"Keep your damned face away from me, Chavez," I warned and pushed him away.
"You heard the lady. Besides, she can do so much better than you," a third guy said.
I whirled around to see Clark Velasquez, another member of my fan-club at school.
I've never felt so irritated to be surrounded by multiple, good-looking college guys!
"You, you, and you," I pointed to each guy with every syllable. "Leave me alone."
Clark pretended not to hear me and scooted closer towards me. He grabbed my waist.
"You. Me. Dinner Friday night," he whispered huskily, inching his face to mine.
"You. Yourself. Alone for the rest of your life," I riposted, poking his forehead and shoving him away with one finger. I furiously removed his hands from my waist and reeled around.
"Why are you so hard to get,Sta. Ana?" the boys yelled at me as I fled from them.
"None of you deserves me!" I shouted back before pushing open the library's glass door.
I'm right,though. None of those bastards had the decency to get a date from me. No time for fuck-boys. No sense beating around the bush and dangling a bait over worthless fishes.
And once again,my instincts were correct. I found her in the fiction aisle,sitting on the cold tiled floor with her legs drawn up to her chest and an old, dusty book in her hands as she read.
"Sop.."
"Leave me be, Ace.I need to be alone."
She sounded so dejected, so somber. A part of me felt like crying my eyes out like she did before.
"Okay," I whispered sadly. I turned around and walked away from her and out of the library.
She wouldn't even meet my eye.
Why couldn't she confide in me? I was a human diary with fantastic legs.
No problem. She's just in one of her moods.
I don't have to know everything about my twin sister.
Except..I want to.
Could her gloomy state have something to do with her rejection of Liam?
I wish our parents were still alive. Not once did I get an opportunity to have a heart-to-heart talk with my mother. Nor my father. What must it be like to live a life with a complete family?
How did they meet? How did they fall in love? How did they get married? How did they die?
Why can't I remember anything about either of them?
Did they meet me, even as a baby?
Would they have missed me, even for a minute?
Before I knew what was happening, a torrent of tears were sliding down my cheeks.
My vision had gotten so blurry, I bumped into someone and couldn't recognize him.
"Well, look who it is. The so-called duchess of Orion high," the person drawled.
I lifted my chin and blinked thrice. The tears were messing with my field of vision.
"Bryce? Is that you?"
"Crap! Are you crying? What's with the waterworks?"
It was definitely him. I could make out his brown hair, blue eyes and cussing voice.
"It's none of your business," I fired at him as I turned the other way.
A hand reached out to hold my shoulder. He made me face him.
"Come with me," he ordered with authority.
"What?" I laughed bitterly, a hollow laugh. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"I'm not a serial killer, if that's what you're thinking."
"You could be a rapist, for all I knew."
He scowled at my sharp tongue. "I'm neither."
"Why the hell would I even listen to you?" I asked him.
I sighed wearily. "You've been nothing but an arrogant bastard since we met. And I don't see myself climbing on board if the world was ending and you had the last airplane on earth."
He retorted: "Have you watched 2012? Airplanes don't work shit in apocalypses, Sta. Ana."
"I'm still not coming with you."
"Do you want ice cream or not?"
I stared at him. "You're treating me?"
"Follow me before I change my mind."
Silently, I walked behind him. But after a few seconds, I sensed he was deliberately walking slower so we would end up walking alongside each other as we searched for ice cream.
The ice cream stand was located at the back of the Dentistry Science building, and I happily munched on my cone of cold strawberry cream, licking, nibbling, and savoring the sweetness.
"You're not going to eat anything?" I asked Bryce when I caught him looking at me.
"I'm not hungry," he said in a bored tone.
As if on cue, his stomach grumbled like thunder. I giggled as his ears became pink.
Before he could object, I hastily paid the ice cream vendor for another scoop of strawberry ice cream--my favorite flavor--and proffered the sweet, frozen dessert to Bryce.
"I prefer cheese," he said while accepting the cone.
"Tough. You should have bought it before lying about your hunger," I teased him.
He took a bite of his ice cream and reminded me: "This isn't a date."
"I know," I told him, flashing him a crooked smile.
"Then what do you call this?" Bryce inquired me, sweeping a hand over us.
"A freebie," I answered and proceeded to devour my beloved strawberry.
"Like, a giveaway?"
"What's with the third degree? You're the one who told me to follow you."
He avoided eye-contact. "Why were you crying anyway?"
"You're quite nosy for a guy."
"And you're not as ladylike as you look," he replied.
"Shut up and eat your ice cream."
Bryce quirked a brow at me, then chomped on his strawberry treat.
This isn't a date. This isn't a date.
No guy is worth the aggravation. Remember that, Stacy.