White Lies Ft. VeeMark

My Best Wasn't Good Enough

A/N:

I am having so much fun writing this story. 

Still Mark's point of view with a lot of internal dialogues.

***

"You live in the same building as Bar, right?" My senior asked before we left the school grounds.

I nodded and was silent since then. Partly because I wasn't feeling so well and also because I've got nothing to say. So far, I've only managed to land myself in even bigger trouble every time I open my mouth in front of my senior so no, I really have nothing to say. 

I'm still planning to fess up though and tell him the truth but not until we've reached my place. The last thing I would want to happen is to upset the person behind the wheel and end up in an accident.

However to confess or not to confess my sins isn't really the most important question here. Of course, I need to come clean. The only problem is how. And maybe when. It's not like I can just tell this senior in all smiles that everything was just a prank.  That would seal my death certificate for sure.

So how?

My mind considers a hundred scenarios. All of which ends up with me being injured or bedridden to landing myself in a hospital. 

Not that P'Vee has a history of violence. It's just that he may look like a regular toned person but I heard rumors that he did dabble in martial arts before and packs a mean punch by having boxing as his hobby. 

All of which sounded bad news to me.

I really, really need to think this through before I let him in on my little white lie. 

Completely oblivious to the chaos going on in my head, P'Vee is humming a tune while driving. The scene felt weird in so many levels considering I'm more used to his always annoyed face but somehow relief washes over me as I realize P'Vee has this kind of side in him too. Maybe my case wasn't that hopeless as I imagine it to be. 

However just when I thought I could easily get out of this predicament safely, P'Vee said something which proved otherwise that almost caused me a heart attack.

"Should we have our first date tomorrow?"

. . .

*some cricket sounds*

. . .

*cricket sound intensifies*

. . .

"Eh?!!!!"

"I mean, we're now officially dating, shouldn't we now start spending more time with each other just by ourselves?"

It was such an honest question from P'Vee that it should have warmed my heart but instead I was so scared and so nervous about it I felt like someone is pointing a sharp object at me. This is getting dangerous every passing minute. Officially dating? I think it's more like, officially screwing up!

Feeling trapped in the car, I mentally cursed every time we had to stop at a red light. The ride to my place was at most only 20 minutes long but this one felt like it has been stretched to six eternities.

Left with no choice and nowhere to run, I tried brainwashing my self:

Okay self, relax. You're on your own but you've got this. You can make it out of here alive. All your training for those basic self-defense techniques were for cases like this.

"I-I don't think that's possible P'. I'll be quite busy tomorrow." Being vague is the safest choice. And BUSY is a big word.

"With what?" P'Vee asked.

"Clllaasssssesss P'. Just classes. Yep. I got loads of them." A bit stuttering but I think I nailed that. 

"Even after practice?"

"Oh after practice? Well you see, er, um, I got tons of things to do at my place plus assignments." Sounds convincing. Go self, you're getting the hang of it.

"You already know you'll have assignments?" I can see P's familiar furrowed brows on this.

"Yes P'. No! I-I mean, I j-just, just got ones that are due the day after tomorrow so yeah, there's a lot of work to do. I'm not feeling well now so I'm thinking of resting first and then doing all of them tomorrow. Plus my room's turning into a jungle, I badly needed to clean up." My room is sparkly clean but then again I need a lot of excuses so . . .

"I can help if that's okay with you."

Why do you need to do that?

"With cleaning? I'll be fine P'. I got this." 

"With your assignments, I mean."

"Oh. Assignments. S-sure. But there's a lot of them P'. I don't want to trouble you."

Actually, I just have one and I'm already half-way done.

"That's more reason to help you out."

Darn.

I'm digging myself another grave.

"Should we do them at your place or the library?"

Does it matter where I'll die?

"Um, er, I'm not . . ."

"I think your room will be better?" 

Yeah, people should die at home. More peaceful that way.

"P-probably next time, Phi." If I'm still alive by then.

"Oh okay. Sure. How about at some cafe?"

Honestly, I'm not sure what P'Vee is saying anymore. I'm already tired and this is taxing me even more. And truthfully, I just don't get why he's suddenly volunteering and all.

Last time I checked he wasn't this helpful with anyone other than his friends. What changed?

When I didn't respond for quite a while, I heard P'Vee cleared his throat. I turned towards him and with a weary but questioning look I managed to choke out a word.

"Huh?"

"Your assignments."

"Assignments?"

"Where should we do them?"

"Library?"

"Ok. It's the library then."

Somehow it sounded poetic to be buried among books.

Afterwards, P'Vee started humming again. I know the ride will be short but my eyelids became too heavy all of a sudden. Then I can no longer remember anything after.

 ***

09.01.22

THUR

A/N:

Mark is so dead.