The Girl At The Last

Chapter 3

Elaine

He was hard to read. And so was I. It doesn't take a genius to categorize him. He was made and carved to turn eyes.

As much as stereotyping is a delicate sin when you don't even know the person from up close. It is still an embodiment that comes from years of observation.

No matter how much a person denies, there's always a sprinkle of their appearance in their character which they are labeled for.

And he whispered trouble.

I kept up my pace fast as he tried his best to tag along with me and in spite made himself seem like he wasn't making an effort.

As soon as the class ended he came up to me, or more like was still in the process when I abruptly stood up and swiftly stride out of the class.

It was the same saga, they will send a new student with some manmade-up story about my life. They will try to confront me about it and express their remorse.

In synchronization, our failing musical choir bubble up. The whole class will erupt into a cute little fit of laughter that would horrifically impersonate a hoard of dying hyenas and expect me to break into pieces when all I aspire was to laugh at their face. Since I exactly don't have much of a thing going on to be cheerful about. So why not take what I can get?

When I won't do as they wish, they'd continue with their act of sweetness.

The worst rumor that graced my ears were of that I once wet my pants in an elocution trial because I was afraid of public speaking.

I rarely speak up, but it doesn't mean I am afraid of it. I don't even remember going for trials.

No matter how much I theorize my analogy, the blonde boy broke all of it.

He was not once seen with Tyler again and at lunch, he again waved at me, I walked out of the cafeteria since my lunch was with David and my money was never there to begin with.

Once home. Or at least the place that I call home I cement my legs by the doormat. Counting backward until the end.

I unlock the door with my keys, the warm scent of pies announced Diana's presence.

As I tiptoed my way around the living room and almost escaped to the safety of stairs I sensed a presence behind. My eyes shrunk close as I awkwardly winked in defeat.

"I see you there"

Rolling my eyes I faced her. A tall, dark, and curvy woman in her early forties wiped her hands with a napkin. She was so natural and sight even at this age. And for a fact, I know my hair appeared as if it got recently struck by the gentle lighting.

Nothing out of ordinary.

"Is there something I can do for you?" I offered, wiping the area around my lips with the back of my hand. I could feel the slither of oil, even my skin was in desperate need of attention.

But the best I could do for them was wash it.

"No. But I was asked to deliver a message. It's from Noah." I frowned. Why did he call her? Not me?

Does that kid finally realize that a forty-year-old woman was much more fun than a young ol me?

But contrary to that I got my answer next "Said he can't reach your phone and he'll drop by here tomorrow."

Though it was a relief, I was more confused by the second. But Diana continued and scraped away the last of my perplexed state.

"He also demanded that he needs a shoulder to cry on"