CHAPTER II: UNFORTUNATE DISCONVENIENCE

I am a human being. And just like any other human being here on Earth, I have had my fair share of regrets. When I was in fresh in high school, emotional mood swings and all, decided to ignore my mother's pestering in wearing her handmade knitted sweater. It was a cold, cold winter, yet my embarrassment of letting my classmates see me in a sweater colored in a flamboyant yellow that hurts your eyes with a glance was enough to render these facts as nonexistent. Ultimately, I lost in hands of heat and temperature and ended up with a cold that lasted for three days. My mother still brings it up in every family reunion, as I sit there with my face resembling that of a tomato.

That wasn't the end of it, as it was only scratching the surface. Even now, certain experiences pop into my head whenever I sleep. I wanted to bang my head against a wall, just to permanently delete those memories, countless times. From voice cracks during a presentation to people catching me rapping to lyrics and imagining myself as some sort of rap genius, I never seem to catch a quiet year with no embarrassing and undesirable moments.

But meeting her might top the long, long list.

And a close second would be telling said meeting to Caleb, who is currently laughing like a maniac, hands on his sides. I stare at my ceiling and wonder if it was too early for me to commit murder.

"Are you done?" I said, my lips draw into an unimpressed line.

He raised a hand, took one good look at my face, and his laughter increased tenfold. I grit my teeth and shoved a pillow at his face, muffling his snickers. Not long after, his amusement turned into helpless noises as he tried to shove me away. I smirk and continued to suffocate his face with the pillow.

After my body clock passed two minutes, I finally remove it.

Caleb glared at me; his breathing harsher than usual (considering that I tried to smother him with a cushion). "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Give me a gun and I'll do it."

"You, sir, are a cold-hearted asshole."

I shrug, "I learned from the best."

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. I look down and avoid his gaze, opting to stare at the floor instead. It isn't like this is the first time he stared at me like he was watching a son grow, which would be impossible because one: we're the same age, and two: the mere thought of him being my actual father disgusts me. I brace myself for the teasing that would possibly occur for a week, maybe even a month if he feels like it. Curse him and our long history of friendship.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

I raise my head, staring at him in shock.

He quirked his eyebrow, "I mean, you told me yourself, that you regret it and that you never want it to happen again. But why do you look like you're having an existential crisis? It's not like she told you that she'll be seeing you again. If anything, I would think that you actually liked the encounter—"

"Finish that sentence and I finish you."

He tensed up for a second, before chuckling a little. "I might just even thank the girl— I never thought that you would show emotions other than neutral, mild irritation, sarcasm, and maybe a little happiness sometimes. This is the first time you threatened me, you know."

"Shut up." I groaned, then buried my face in the mattress. "It's my first time facing someone who's like that… if you were in my shoes, you would be pissed too."

"Yeah, yeah, if you say so."

I close my eyes and ignore his obvious teasing, and her smile pops into my head again. Her lips stretching into an amused smile, as if she were watching a dog doing tricks in front of her. I sigh in annoyance and smack the side of my head continuously. Though the pain was a downside, it distracted me temporarily from having to remember the most regrettable encounter I've had my whole life. My arms were starting to get tired as I'm hitting my head in an awkward position, face lying down the bed, but I couldn't care less.

Once I've made sure that the thought wouldn't come back for at least a day max, I have officially obtained a throbbing headache. My eyes search for Caleb and he was still sprawled on my bed, his teasing expression was long gone, now overtaken by exasperation.

"What?"

"She's really something… for you to stress yourself over something other than academics…"

I glare at him, "I'm not stressing over her."

"Sure, you aren't." He sarcastically replied, "You are most definitely not thinking about what happened earlier. Absolutely not."

"Are you even my friend?"

"I am, because the real ones tell you the truth."

"You're just making things worse. Telling me all those lies that I actually," I press my lips in a thin line, "liked it."

"Oh, trust me, you will—"

I threw the pillow at his face. He swiftly dodged it and tackled me, the two of us landing on the floor with a 'thud!'. We struggle, he makes use of his strength from joining the volleyball team, and I make use from the times he dragged me to help him with spikes, tosses, and whatnot. I couldn't count the times I jabbed at his sides, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't feel my backside anymore, and yet we both still have the energy to squirm around to throw jabs and hits.

"Boys, dinner's ready— what in the world are you both doing?"

Me and Caleb freeze, and only then I noticed what we looked like. Caleb's shirt was rumpled, and if I peer more closely, I will probably see the huge, red spot where I jabbed at him a lot. My body felt sore, and I could feel the adrenaline of my muscles leaving my body. In between this unfolding of chaos, my father stood, with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

"Dad, wait, I can explain—"

"Not if I join in on first!" He exclaimed as he jumped at the both of us.

We continue the little squabble until my mom comes up and gives the three of us a long scolding of being "too old" for doing these "activities". All of us bow our heads while she rambles on, sneaking in a few shared snickers and smiles here and there.

I go to sleep as soon as I hit the covers, no bugging thoughts of what happened at school whatsoever.