-Kylie-
By the time I got to my homeroom the next day, Julianne was waiting outside, lea ning her back against the wall and looking enthusiastic about something.
"Oh, great. You finally arrived!" She followed me as I entered the room. "Now-yo u've got to tell me everything from beginning to end. Make sure not to leave any thing out!"
"What the heck are you talking about?" I slumped in my seat, glaring at her.
Settling down on her seat, she shook her head. "Um, hel-lo? Have you forgotten a bout what happened at the Crest? You and Tristan and stuff?"
I turned to face the blackboard and rested my chin on my hand.
"Kylie, come on! Spill it already. It's killing me!" She shook my shoulders, but I just remained silent. "Did something happen after we left you two?"
"I'm sorry, but there's really nothing to tell," I said with a shrug.
"But Lacey said you were flipping out so much she thought you'd break your house down-"
Straightening my back, I glared at her. "Who do you even think wouldn't flip out ? Both of you just freaking ditched the hell out when I believed you wouldn't," I exclaimed. "You guys should be sued for such disloyalty."
"Whatever! So didn't you enjoy every second of it?"
"Enjoy?" I pressed my lips, hesitating a bit, but then continued, "Okay, I did e njoy it. Happy?"
She nearly let out a loud scream. "Oh! So then? What happened next? Tell me the whole story!" she squealed.
"We just talked some random stuff. That's just it. I told you there's really not hing to tell."
She hooted as if she'd just cracked an overwhelming puzzle of the century. "Ooh, evasive much? Tell me, did you guys finally hook up or something?"
Just the mere thought of it nearly cut off the oxygen in my brain. "God, Juliann e, what the hell? Why in the heaven's name would you think of that?" I slapped m y face.
"Jeez, don't get your knickers in a twist, Kylie... Why are you being so defensi ve about it, unless - wait!" She sprang up from her seat, mouth forming in a hug e O. "Oh, my God! So it's true then, and you didn't tell me?"
It felt like her exaggerated assumption just slapped me across the face with an iron pipe or something.
"Oh for the love of pineapples, that's enough, Julianne! Seriously, I think you need to stop watching chick flick films because it seems you've already overdose d yourself with romantic crap. Nothing happened, all right?" I uttered, my palm sweating, eyes shifting everywhere.
"Really?"
"I told you we just talked about stuff, like school. That's all and nothing more . What else do you wanna hear?"
Her naughty grin widened, and her arms crossed over her chest. "The truth."
Was she a mind reader or something? Or was it because I was easy to read because of my expression?
"You're making something out of nothing, Jules," I said instead, shaking my head , hoping to convince her and as well as myself for the last time.
"Oh, I see it now." She giggled, as she was the only person who positively knew what she was talking about. "You are still not ready."
"Not ready for what? What do you mean?"
"You'll know it soon." She nodded assuredly.
"Why won't you just tell it to me now?"
She sat back in her seat, rested her arms on the table, and shrugged casually, s aying, "Can't. I think it's better if you'll be the one to know that."
I tried to laugh, but didn't quite make it. What she was saying was making me te nsed to the core. "Wow. Then I guess I might take ten long years before I know i t."
"Well, maybe. Maybe not. It's always out there, you know. All you have to do is to open this and this."
And when she pointed right at her chest and her head, I then realized that it wa s one of the hardest things for me to do.
Why?
Because that would mean ruining something that I worked so hard to keep
***
I didn't want to come across him this day, because I hadn't still recovered from my freaking out yesterday.
Sadly, when I got to the English class, he was right there in his seat; his earp hones were plugged in his ear as if he could drown in his own world. I then knew I had no choice. I couldn't skip the class just because I couldn't man up and f ace him. That would be ridiculous, right?
So I took a deep breath, forced a neutral expression, and headed slowly toward m y seat, avoiding the bags blocking my path. Tristan had been ducking over his bo ok; his hair fell shyly over his eyes, his head faintly bobbing while his mouth silently spoke some words I assumed were song lyrics.
When I slid onto my chair, I immediately retrieved my notebook, book and pen fro m my bag and fumbled some papers with my sweaty palms, pretending I was busy. I didn't realize that my fingers were so shaky my pen slipped out of my hand.
I bent down to get it, and when I was about to come back up, I stopped halfway w hen I recognized he was singing under his breath some earsplitting Linkin Park s ong.
Hearing his deep singing voice made me drift back to the time he picked a guitar and sang an apology song to me. That memory was included in my tracks that kept on replaying in my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to shake them off.
I didn't know how long I'd been paralyzed in that position until he turned to me , and pulled out his earphones.
"What?" he asked.
My jaw clenched and I quickly straightened up myself, avoiding his stare.
"Nothing." I shook my head fiercely.
He inserted his earphones back and bobbed his head again while reading his book. I noticed that he wasn't smiling the whole time, and I pressed my palms on my l ap.
Why did it seem like I was the only one in this room being so edgy and all? Chew ing my bottom lip, I busied by doodling on the back of my notebook.
Unfortunately, I couldn't even seem to last for long time pretending to be relax ed since I eventually turned to him and started to say, "T, about... you know, y esterday, uh-" and then I lowered my head and muttered, "Thank you for the treat ."
He didn't speak up.
"And thank you for bringing me into that place once again. I enjoyed it. Really, " I added loudly.
No response. He still had his poker face on. Why was he still giving me a cold s houlder when I was already being honest here?
"Oy." I poked my finger on his shoulder. "Are you listening?"
He spun around. "I'm listening."
"So why aren't you answering me? Are you mad or something?"
"I'm not," he said. And then slowly... he smiled with his eyes. "I'm just surpri sed you told me that. I thought you were upset or anything. What you just said m ade me happy, Kylie."
My heart tugged.
Taking a deep breath, I mumbled, "Okay."
Poof-conversation ended. We didn't speak any more words until the class began.
I placed my cheek on my palm, yawning over the boring, repetitive lessons about literature and stuff. Even though I was committed to not glancing to him, when h e did a little shuffle in his seat, for like every ten seconds, I couldn't help but look.
This heavy feeling floating inside my chest had been making me restless ever sin ce.
I didn't know exactly how to describe it, but the feeling made me nervous, frust rated, and mad at the same time that thinking of it was making my throat tight a nd my eyes sting.
I couldn't fully describe it.
Am I currently suffering from a severe paranoia or what?
Erase. Erase. Erase.
Wasn't it funny to think that some people didn't even understand themselves? It included me, of course. And that made me wonder if there was a syndrome in Yahoo ! Health for whatever it was that's wrong with me.
Or with him.
Whatever.
When the class was over, I nearly sprinted off my seat just to escape the room, doing the awkward penguin run because my bag kept on bouncing on my back. Julian ne tagged along, her eyes fixed on a teen magazine she was holding.
"What do you think, Kylie? Should I go to the salon and have my hair permanently straightened or not?" she asked.
I looked at her disbelievingly. Didn't she know I suck at giving advices when it comes to that kind of girly-girl stuff? But I tried to give my best relevant an swer, anyway. "Don't you think it costs too much? And I thought you love your na tural curls."
"Well, I think it cost around a hundred or more around here, but I know someone got hers done for like, eighty, I guess, and it was pretty gorgeous. And no, I s o don't love them when they start to frizz up and knot. I can't tame them any lo nger. They've even broken up a couple of hair combs."
"It's not a bad thing, you know. With that thick mass of hair, you can wear all pink and people will see you as Strawberry Shortcake."
She finally lifted her face off the magazine and glowered. "That is so cute, Ky. "
I shrugged. "People like shortcakes."
Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. "Oh forget it. I'm gonna talk with Mom an d hopefully she won't freak out this whole thing."
"Well, just wait for her to be in a good mood before asking her about something. Take my advice; I rarely use it, anyway."
"I know, right?"
"Why are you suddenly planning that stuff, hmm? Is there a special occasion or s omething?" I paused, thinking about some possible upcoming events. "Oh, it's for the prom, right? It's only a month away."
"It wasn't the main thing I was thinking, but... yeah. I wanna look my best for that, anyway. You know it's the last dance for this year..."
"God, another dance event..." I muttered, my mind wandering back at the Valentin e ball. That whole thing was a complete disaster that I never wished to happen i n my life.
What if it hadn't happened, though? Maybe I would still have been stuck in the h ouse alone, eating popcorn and watching movies instead of panicking and freaking out about the dress and the dance. Maybe I wouldn't have got the chance to danc e with those two completely different guys. Maybe I would still be mad at Trista n, wishing for his death. Maybe he would still irritate me to the core. Maybe we wouldn't be friends.
And maybe I wouldn't be as glad as I was now.
That event had become as one of my life's climaxes, to tell it frankly. Looking back, I realized there were so many things that had changed because of it.
"...so that's mainly the reason why I wanna have my hair straightened," Julianne said, pulling me away from my thoughts.
"You were saying what?" I asked.
"I've just read in this-" she circled her finger over the page of her magazine "-that most boys prefer girls with her long hair down, so I was like wondering wh at Pete thinks."
I peered over the magazine with my face scrunching up in skepticism.
"Wait, from whom did you get this magazine, anyway?" I inquired. "I've never see n this one in your collection."
She always read stuff like this when she's bored, and the last time I checked, s he had about thirty issues of Seventeen and a whole lot of other magazines.
"Oh, you know, from Ronnie. I'm planning to hunt this copy down in a bookstore w hen I have time."
I stared at her in shock. "Whoa - so you and Ronnie are like friends now? I thou ght you didn't like her."
"I would, if she hadn't started that barfing thingy and showed her weird side. G uess my first impression towards her was all wrong." She flipped the next page. "And tell you what, we're both in love with Damon Salvatore, so we thought we ha d a connection."
"Damon? Who's he?"
"He's from The Vampire Diaries! Duh."
Psh. Some girly girl stuff I couldn't even relate to.
Julianne left the magazine with me when she entered the ladies' room to freshen up her makeup, so I was left alone in the hallway. Since my curiosity strikes ag ain, I flipped through a couple of pages until I was drawn to the pictures.
Those girls on the magazines were so blessed to have so pretty faces they put me to shame. Maybe I had been sleeping the entire time when God showered beauty to people.
I turned to the next page and found the article Julianne was talking about.
"Boys like girls with long hair!" It said on an interview, and it even said it m ade the girls look more gorgeous. I stared at the page, dumbfounded. Like, serio usly?
I couldn't help but look at my own and wonder what's wrong in having a short hai r. What's it like to have a hair that slipped right through your fingers? That s ort of hair that actually grows down and doesn't escalate like a ball of frizz-
"Ah!"
Something cold suddenly had touched my left cheek, and I jumped back with my eye s growing in shock.
"Tristan! Y-you!"
He was standing few feet away from me, holding a frosty can of Dr. Pepper in his hand. "Yes, me."
"Jeez, I almost died!" I exclaimed, wiping my wet cheek with the sleeve of my sh irt. "You startled the crap outta me."
He looked away, covering his mouth with his hand as if he's trying to hide his l aughter. "Such a scaredy-cat."
"Who wouldn't? You just came out of freaking nowhere. How long have you been sta nding there, anyway?"
"Not too long. I just passed by here a couple of minutes ago, and it seemed like you were very interested in your reading, so I thought it's good if I give you little scare..." That mischievous smile of his broadened.
I was taken off guard about what he said. I never realized he was watching me be hind while I was sinking in my own thoughts until now. That was somewhat weird o f him.
"Right. Genius Tristan strikes again! Giving me a surprise attack by putting a c old can on my cheek was very nice," I scoffed. "Thanks."
Shaking his head, he took a step closer. He tossed the Dr. Pepper can on his han d before extending it to me and said, "Here."
I simply gawked at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You're giving it to me for real?"
He sighed. "Ah, never mind. Seems like you don't want it."
"No, no! Lemme have that." I held the magazine under my armpit, and eagerly grab bed the can from him. "Thanks. I was just feeling thirsty, anyway, and - AHH, TH E FUDGE!" I screamed; squeezing my eyes shut.
When I had pushed the cap open, the soda had suddenly spurted out of the can and even squirted on my face, darn it. The wasted soda was dripping on the floor.
Tristan cracked up so loud, and it sounded more like an evil laughter than an ex pression of amusement. "Y-you should have seen your face, Kylie."
"HARTFORD! You monkey-faced hoodlum!" I thundered. "You did that on purpose!"
He must've shaken the can so hard before giving it to me. Now both of my hands w ere drenched in soda that made them sticky and smelly. As well as my face, too. "Great! Now I'll smell like dried prune for the rest of the day."
He was still laughing manically until he was only gasping for air. I blinked sev eral times. Even though I was totally pissed off because of what he did, I could n't help but be flabbergasted. It's been a very long time since I'd seen him lau gh his heart out like that. He hardly ever did that, actually.
"C-Christ, I can't breathe." He kept on snorting. "That reaction was priceless."
"Crazy!" I shook my hands at a time in an attempt to get the soda off.
Tristan pulled out his dark blue handkerchief out of his pockets and grabbed my free hand. I tried to flinch away, but I couldn't do so since he already began w iping my hand clean. The amusement in his face was still visible as if he was en joying what he was doing. My mouth zipped itself up; I was completely stunned by his sudden kind gesture that I went speechless.
Maybe I don't really know Tristan that much as I thought I did.
When he caught me staring at him, he slapped his handkerchief on my face all of a sudden and looked away. "Clean yourself up. I'm not your parent," he barked, h is eyebrows drawn together.
The way he acted made me chuckle under my breath. He looked so amusing when he d id that.
Maybe there's still a side of him I haven't come to know of yet.
I began wiping my face and sniffed when I caught a scent. Wow, his hankie smelle d so nice, it had the trace of his usual cologne...
No! What am I doing? I'm not supposed to think of something like that! He's Tris tan!
Erase! Erase! Erase!
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," he said, smirking.
I blinked. "What!" The nerve of this guy! "Well, for your information, I was jus t amazed on how ugly a person could be," I snapped back, my face warming up. Gri macing just to hide my embarrassment, I took his hankie and used it to wipe the soda off my shirt.
"Gee, you don't have to give me that annoyed look, you know." He brushed at the tip of his nose, lifting his eyes away again. "Idiot. I brought you that drink j ust to wipe off that solemn face of yours. How long are you going to have that?"
I simply couldn't believe his words. So that's why he gave me Dr. Pepper...
I couldn't help but snort a laugh. "Here-" I stretched my mouth into a very wide grin "-I'm smiling now. The solemn face is gone. Happy?"
"That smile looks worse than Joker's."
I dropped it.
"Joking." He grinned. "Just keep on smiling, Kylie."
There goes my chest again...
"Listen, I have to get going now." He pointed his thumb at his back. "Are you co ming to the cafeteria?"
"I'll head on later. I have to wait for Julianne to finish," I answered. I swear that girl was taking ten thousand years before she could be satisfied putting u p coloring materials on her face.
"All right then." He brushed at the top of my head, nodding, before he walked aw ay.
I sipped up the rest of the soda when he turned his head back to my direction.
"Kylie."
"Yeah?"
"Keep yours short," he called out with a smile. "You may not know it, but it act ually suits you better."
I slightly tilted my head to the side. "Ah? What short?"
"Turn to page sixteen. Bye."
Before I could speak up, he already disappeared in a corner. It took several sec onds before I finally got what he meant by page sixteen. He was referring to the magazine I was holding!
My heart kicked into overdrive. With clammy hands, I turned it to the page numbe r and bit my bottom lip to prevent myself from smiling so hard.
He meant he liked my hair short.