Crazy is the Name of My Game

( 9 ) She is unbelievable.

Jennsen Tolentino

 My gaze lingered worriedly back and forth, back and forth and back and forth again as I chewed my lower lip.

 I would probably end up with a stiff neck, if not soon, sooner. The sudden, random winds continued to threaten my meticulously curled hair. As if I wasn’t bothered enough. I stood awkwardly between my silver Audi parked conspicuously on the barren lot and the stained oak-paneled door in front of me, unsure whether it’s safer to run or to drive away.

Like, was it rationally possible that the Little Miss Perfect I knew live here?

I couldn’t even begin to imagine it!

If I wasn’t seriously worried for that girl, I think I would never end up in this place in my lifetime. But I checked and rechecked my informants (quote unquote). The address was authentic, that is if she didn’t fake her school record. I doubt she’s that insane.

Here goes nothing. I gulped nervously as I knocked. Well, I could always leave if I got the wrong person. I wonder if I could make the ground swallow me whole when danger arrives.

After knocking continuously for a few minutes, I was about to give up when I heard a faint cussing from inside the apartment. The door finally opened – much to my relief.

I smiled earnestly. “G-Good morning Eri–“

My jaw dropped to the floor.

Wearing an oversized yellow t-shirt and baggy polka-dotted sweatpants, a disheveled bare-footed girl welcomed me with a sour face. Her long inky black hair was tied into a loose bun, looking like a crow’s nest on her head (note: colorful hairclips were scattered on it). In addition to the white bandages on her arms, she looked... Oh my god... was she...?

“It’s a Saturday morning, my goodness –!” her silken voice came out garbled and irritated.

 “Uh, sorry?” I said, sounding like a question.

She slammed the door at my face. After a heartbeat, she reopened it, only this time she was doing it inch by inch. It was as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. That makes the two of us.

“Jen?” She blinked rapidly, gaining a little composure, straightening up as her arms shot sideward to block my entrance. “How on earth...? What are you doing here?”

I choked on my words.

Erica?! Jesus, what happened to my overly confident, sophisticated classmate?

With the way she swayed to her sides, I realized that she was standing on one foot, ineffectively hiding her distress. Her crutches were nowhere in sight. How stubborn. I vividly recalled all the trouble it caused me just to take her to the hospital. It was ridiculous, really. And hilarious. How could one fear the hospital that much?

“What do you think I’m doing here?” I managed after a while.

“Can’t think. My brain’s not here,” she deadpanned.

“Pfft, but you recognize me.”

“Who are you?” Erica’s eyes widened innocently.

A mischievous grin broke across my face. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

 “No.”

“Anywhere?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed like she was contemplating on what to do with me. The calculating expression she wore was recognizable – at least there’s that. But it was funny how wacky she dressed at home. Wait. She’s not planning on letting me stay, was she?