My 1st Prom

Date: 6/6, Mon

  'Does anyone want to submit their Mocktail Gathering reply slips?' Ms. Windy confirms. Never had I been more glad to see Mum's signature on a piece of paper. Sensing the CT's gaze on me, I pay special attention to a table. No way I'm handing in mine with S1G2 people knowing. If the others know I'm going to show up, they'll be surprised... in a bad way. Forget heiress, M germs will be enough to scare them off. I still can't believe I'll be rolling in the dough as soon as I hit 18!

I'm keeping an eye out on Eva's whereabouts all day long. (Except finals, we have English.) Unusually, she didn't pay me any attention. She's got a faraway look in her eyes, hands propping her chin up, body unmoving. I passed by in front of her face, holding Apple's hand and walking on tiptoe. But she's still distractedly staring into space, sighing wistfully once every few minutes. Phew. Apple claimed that Eva applied for being in prom court before her parents read the Mocktail circular. The Belles from previous years are so popular they can get away with murder. Other prom court candidates have already started getting their names out there.

Apple also informed me on Eva's lucrative campaign: to introduce sanitary measures to purge the school of M germs. I don't see the point in rolling my eyes. Eva's campaign benefits only herself. She's obviously getting votes by uniting the class. I question, 'What else does her campaign include?' 'Her implied slogan is "Wake up and smell the M germs".' I make a mental note to walk on eggshells for the rest of the day. The last thing I want is to cause drama and prevent my classmates from having fun in my presence. I haven't done anything wrong yet. And I can put my money where my mouth is (quite literally too) if the school allows me to access CCTV. Which will never happen.

Back in September, Apple glanced at me and screamed 'Eeeeeeewwwww!' She alerted the whole class, 'What the hell are you doing?' I tried to get rid of food stuck in my new braces -I refused to look in the mirror ever since I've had them- with my fingers during lunch break. Apple cries, 'Go to the toilet and wash your hands ASAP!' I pressed the door handle down -with my elbow, pushed it open with my arm- and did what I was told. Once I came back, my classmates grimaced at me from a distance, they refused to touch me and my "disease". Even if I walked by, they took several steps back as if I have some kind of lethal flu. That was the worst birthday gift ever. Anyway, I'm using retainers now -only at night.

Physical education (P.E.) lessons sucked since I was always -always- the last person chosen for teams. Group captains argued about who can "take me in" for another sport activity. They never bothered pretending to be pleasant whenever I am around. For unspeakable medical reasons, people assume that my so-called-deadly-disease transmitted indirectly via objects. Like their lives depends on it.

Some time ago, Gyan -a dude- was treated similarly for 2 years back in primary. I ignored him daily without trying to cause a scene. He told his previous CTs, all they did was warn us to stop. I ignored him again- out of sight, out of mind. We accused him of stealing erasers and went as far as to avoid one particular floor tile he once walked on. He transferred soon and I never saw him again. He's on good terms with the majority of S1G2 after visiting school at the Christmas Party last year, and I was absent with the flu that time. Never expected myself to be in his shoes.

I understand how he feels when karma comes slamming back. Really. Others looking at me with disgust is never easy to ignore, I can feel the inescapable essence of hate mixed in fear radiating in school. Another reason why I dislike school so much, homework aside. Sleeping (my consolation) is the only way to stop feeling anything, 100%. Dullness takes over for the rest of the time. Yet a small part of me is determined to pull through this mess.

Few of my classmates refuse to go along and don't overreact to me at all-they have friends to rescue them in case of social status crises. Fitting in is everything. Crying is a further bonus to them. I remember inhaling oxygen, feeling suffocated and being severely restricted at the same time. Things have taken a turn for the worse: my quality of life has sunk so low, the only direction left to go is up. Starting with me submitting the Mocktail reply slip to the school General Office after today's exams, of course. If I reveal my inheritance, S1G2 people will drop dead from shame.

An enticingly wrapped box sits on the table in my room. 'Ooooooohhh! A gift!' I rip the wrappers and ribbons off. Inside the box is... inside the box, is-'Contact lenses.' Aranobrac walks out of my walk-in wardrobe, 'Surprise!' 'Thanks.' I'm grinning before I know it, slightly touched, 'Just what I need for prom. You... paid with your wages?' Aranobrac circles her fingers around her eyes, 'I did! To make up for your glasses.' 'Awww. You saved me from asking my mum.' My fingers automatically open the box.

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Yo yo yo! Did you guys figure out Aranobrac is 'carbonara' spelt backwards? I absolutely like carbonara spaghetti. (Mmmmm yum.) And I was brainstorming on an empty stomach that day.  

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