Status: On going! :)
Parallel Lines
Introduction
His mom once told him being socially inept when you're in high school is not a good idea.
He proved her wrong
As he grabbed the nearest bag that he could reach, he heard his mom yelling between the words, "close the door" and "love you, take care."
"Sure, Ma!" He replied and locked the door.
His siblings already left and there he was - who slept late and also woke up late. He felt like a living zombie who is looking for a nice brain to stuff his mouth with.
He knew this day was another day for him to sit on the brown chair, gawking on the flat white board, different saliva of teachers splattering on his face. Same old school day, same old shit.
Soon, as he arrived, he saw his schoolmates hurrying up through the gate beside the school's church. He checked his watch and he knew: He was about to get another late slip from coach, Sir Raffy, in less than two minutes.
He ran, almost falling in the opening beside the block. He had no plans of having another slip for the fourth time in a row, and he didn't give a single shit about little kids blocking his way. He was a consistent conduct awardee, he couldn't just let these slips deduct his perfect record.
"Oi!" A girl called. From the sound of her voice, he was already aware she was also about to get late, "Calm the fuck down! You're not going to get late, it's only 6:55! Cheesus!"
He stopped unknowingly and bumped on someone, causing him to fall. He heard the girl's laughter rang out of nowhere. He cussed and rolled his eyes, holding his head and rubbing it gently. So much for not having a single bread or breakfast, at all.
"Stupid," The girl scoffed, "Get up, Jarod, before I even think of actually helping you."
He glared and stood up, like he swore before, he didn't care who he bumped into.
"Shut up, blondie." He said.
As he dusted off his blue navy pants, he walked away and tried to hide the smile curving on his mouth.
It was Fatima.
Who would have thought she'd still bother to talk to him after 4 months of giving her the cold shoulder?
He ruffled his hair as he grinned cheekily, placing his ID on the machine.
He checked his watch, 7:05am. It gladly reminded him that his watch was 5 minutes advance to refrain him from actually getting late, again. Oh well.
Fatima, Fatima.
Just the thought of her name made his insides swoon in so much delight. He knew giving the cold shoulder wasn't the best idea because the girl was hard as a rock, it was either she was simply insensitive to feel it or she was simply ignoring the fact that he was trying to get away from her.
But she was Fatima.
The girl with brown almond-shaped eyes, long naturally blonded hair and cheeky grin. She was the main reason, on any aspects, why he feels his knees get weak every time; the reason why he decided to stay late up at night for the last 6 months just to wait for her calls and texts whenever she needed him.
The reason why he went out late at night just to pick her up because she got stood up by her boyfriend.
The reason why he bought a three thousand coat just to lend it to her and let her use it for their Noli Me Tangere play.
The reason why he always let her borrow his phone - for her to take a picture of both of them.
The reason why he smiled after what happened a while ago.
And, also the reason why and how he got his first heartbreak.
Everybody loved the blonde girl. She was sweet, pretty, and friendly.
The first time she entered the school, she already had the boys surrounded her. All of them were trying their best to get her attention. Until he reached sophomore year, maybe, it was all just a matter of time, effort and well, connection, when finally, someone gave him her number.
He remembered how happy he was when he started to type the unfamiliar set of numbers on his phone. What would be his first greeting?
Hi, I’m Jarod. I’m a batchmate of yours. I’m a student of Sir Rei of St. Aloysious. Let’s talk?
Or maybe a simple,
Hi I’m Jarod. I received your number from a friend.
Everybody talked about her but he kept himself on silence and only listened to their different stories about the blonde petite girl.
He smiled and let his thoughts get washed over. As he reached the 5th floor, his lungs were trying to gasp for air. God, I hate being a senior student, he thought to himself. He saw the same old and chilly hall that he had been walking on for a while now. He opened the door to their section’s classroom.
He simply placed his fluorescent bag on the nearest beside the back door. Because god, who wanted to seat in front anyway. He sat and easily heard a morning greet.
“I thought you’re late again,” His seat mate, Sammy Boy, chuckled at him. “Dude, you’re always late.”
He shrugged and laughed, “Doesn’t matter. My morning started off very great, anyway.” He simply smiled and leaned back on his chair.
For even though the blonde girl decided to have his heart broken, all he ever wanted was still her and only her. Was that so hard to ask?
He proved her wrong
As he grabbed the nearest bag that he could reach, he heard his mom yelling between the words, "close the door" and "love you, take care."
"Sure, Ma!" He replied and locked the door.
His siblings already left and there he was - who slept late and also woke up late. He felt like a living zombie who is looking for a nice brain to stuff his mouth with.
He knew this day was another day for him to sit on the brown chair, gawking on the flat white board, different saliva of teachers splattering on his face. Same old school day, same old shit.
Soon, as he arrived, he saw his schoolmates hurrying up through the gate beside the school's church. He checked his watch and he knew: He was about to get another late slip from coach, Sir Raffy, in less than two minutes.
He ran, almost falling in the opening beside the block. He had no plans of having another slip for the fourth time in a row, and he didn't give a single shit about little kids blocking his way. He was a consistent conduct awardee, he couldn't just let these slips deduct his perfect record.
"Oi!" A girl called. From the sound of her voice, he was already aware she was also about to get late, "Calm the fuck down! You're not going to get late, it's only 6:55! Cheesus!"
He stopped unknowingly and bumped on someone, causing him to fall. He heard the girl's laughter rang out of nowhere. He cussed and rolled his eyes, holding his head and rubbing it gently. So much for not having a single bread or breakfast, at all.
"Stupid," The girl scoffed, "Get up, Jarod, before I even think of actually helping you."
He glared and stood up, like he swore before, he didn't care who he bumped into.
"Shut up, blondie." He said.
As he dusted off his blue navy pants, he walked away and tried to hide the smile curving on his mouth.
It was Fatima.
Who would have thought she'd still bother to talk to him after 4 months of giving her the cold shoulder?
He ruffled his hair as he grinned cheekily, placing his ID on the machine.
He checked his watch, 7:05am. It gladly reminded him that his watch was 5 minutes advance to refrain him from actually getting late, again. Oh well.
Fatima, Fatima.
Just the thought of her name made his insides swoon in so much delight. He knew giving the cold shoulder wasn't the best idea because the girl was hard as a rock, it was either she was simply insensitive to feel it or she was simply ignoring the fact that he was trying to get away from her.
But she was Fatima.
The girl with brown almond-shaped eyes, long naturally blonded hair and cheeky grin. She was the main reason, on any aspects, why he feels his knees get weak every time; the reason why he decided to stay late up at night for the last 6 months just to wait for her calls and texts whenever she needed him.
The reason why he went out late at night just to pick her up because she got stood up by her boyfriend.
The reason why he bought a three thousand coat just to lend it to her and let her use it for their Noli Me Tangere play.
The reason why he always let her borrow his phone - for her to take a picture of both of them.
The reason why he smiled after what happened a while ago.
And, also the reason why and how he got his first heartbreak.
Everybody loved the blonde girl. She was sweet, pretty, and friendly.
The first time she entered the school, she already had the boys surrounded her. All of them were trying their best to get her attention. Until he reached sophomore year, maybe, it was all just a matter of time, effort and well, connection, when finally, someone gave him her number.
He remembered how happy he was when he started to type the unfamiliar set of numbers on his phone. What would be his first greeting?
Hi, I’m Jarod. I’m a batchmate of yours. I’m a student of Sir Rei of St. Aloysious. Let’s talk?
Or maybe a simple,
Hi I’m Jarod. I received your number from a friend.
Everybody talked about her but he kept himself on silence and only listened to their different stories about the blonde petite girl.
He smiled and let his thoughts get washed over. As he reached the 5th floor, his lungs were trying to gasp for air. God, I hate being a senior student, he thought to himself. He saw the same old and chilly hall that he had been walking on for a while now. He opened the door to their section’s classroom.
He simply placed his fluorescent bag on the nearest beside the back door. Because god, who wanted to seat in front anyway. He sat and easily heard a morning greet.
“I thought you’re late again,” His seat mate, Sammy Boy, chuckled at him. “Dude, you’re always late.”
He shrugged and laughed, “Doesn’t matter. My morning started off very great, anyway.” He simply smiled and leaned back on his chair.
For even though the blonde girl decided to have his heart broken, all he ever wanted was still her and only her. Was that so hard to ask?
♠ ♠ ♠
new story heyz z