My 1st Prom

Date: 17/6, Fri

  'Do not touch the door handle directly from now on,' Eva flings her arm towards it, 'remember when Celestia used it with her M germs? We must take precautions to prevent the M germs outbreak.'

I roll my eyes. Eva further insults me by rubbing the door handle with tissue. Heads raise up. She opens the door, rubbing the door handle outside. 'Cut the crap, Eva.' I snap, 'Change schools if you're scared.' More heads pop up behind as I swiftly turn my head, Nick included.

Eva quips, flicking her hair, 'I'm more than happy to cut you out, obviously.'

Damn, caught with my own words. 'Karma will come for you eventually.' I try not to look ruffled, glaring right back. Eva does a convincingly real shudder.

'Karma has to help because you're PATHETIC.' She guffaws and slowly crumples her tissue into a ball. Few nervous laughs respond yet no one is brave enough to intercept, not even XYZ. Which is fine, because we pick our own fights here. A few S1G2 people wince. As if they are actually scared for me. Eva shoots the crumpled up tissue at my face. An open challenge. I curl into a ball by instinct. The tissue ball flies an inch above my head. On my feet before it even lands, I throw myself before the Lost & Found box. Eva crumples more tissue, taking her time in stalking towards me, taunting me.

Fingers twitching slightly, I hurl the lid right off and dive in to find tools. None of them resemble a frying pan-ooooh, this will be fine. Grabbing it, I keep that thing behind my back. For now. I widen my legs, ready to either fight or flight, 'Ready when you are.'

Eva throws and catches her tissue ball in one hand a few times. She takes one more predatory step towards me, takes aim and fires. I see the ball coming for me in slow motion, Eva giggling wickedly near the door. I dive, swinging my arm, wielding it -an old plastic file and deflect the ball into the bin. Just like that. Let's see how long I ca-Ouch.

Eva throws a third one, 'Not bad for a piece of crap.' I leap up from the ground, crouch and swiftly tumble to the side. Ducking in time. Nick does not. It smacks him on the cheek. Lucky tissue. 'Eeeeevvvaaa, can you not?' He drawls, smart enough to not pick a side. Eva pouts adorably, 'Fine.' I could've sworn he smirked at me once.

Nearly all the girls fuss over him in one huge mass, checking if he's got a tissue paper cut. Except Eva. 'Not bad for a sociopath,' I retort. Nick grabs his iPad, cuts through the crowd before snapping a photo of Eva. 'Who knew a person can be so ugly from this angle?' He laughs, 'I should add a zit. No wait-a moustache.' 'Let me see the photo!' Eva demands. 'You have to catch me first.' He zooms off, laughing energetically as Eva chases him around the classroom and out onto the corridor.

I exhale, not realising when I stopped breathing, stopped moving. No one asks if I'm fine, I don't expect any of them to. Getting up, moving my butt back to the seat is normalcy all of a sudden, if not for several passing glances. Oddly, their eyes don't show hatred or dislike.

Ms. Windy claps her hands thrice and carries a clipboard. 'Class Experience Day will be the last day we can spend quality time together as a class. As a family. I need 2 teams, half the class in one and the other half in another. We'll do physical activities, remember to bring an extra set of clothes.' Hearing this, all S1G2 sports team and athletic team members declare to be in one team-no doubt the winning team. Apple declares me her teammate. 'I also need a helper from another class.' Ms. Windy's eyes fall on the empty seat Nick vacated. The rest of S1G2 -along with me and Apple- will be bound together. I numb myself flat before receiving plenty of eye rolls and complaints. 

Mum and I are in a mall. We go around for a while, trying to find my dream dress. Giving up searching, we go to a tailor's shop and I show a tailor the same sketch I've shown Mum. The tailor stretches a measuring tape from my waist to the floor. 'Will you wear heels?'

'No, she won't. Above all, that dress must not restrict movements,' Mum flips her shiny ATM card and scribbles a signature on the cheque, 'please send me the bill.' I exit the shop after the purchase, grinning like an idiot. 'Thanks for saying "yes to the dress"!' I beam. 'No problem, Cel. You seem more savvy now that you're in junior secondary. This is the first time I've seen you truly happy in a while.' My mind scrabbles for legit excuses, struggling to remember the time when I wasn't so miserable, 'School stress, I suppose.'

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Ah, yes. The famous 'school stress' excuse whenever your parents find you acting different. Does anyone think lying and withholding information are two different things? (You know, to avoid getting in trouble. High five!✋)

A bit of physical action in this chapter since I wanna write something different.