Crazy is the Name of My Game

(14) My small world.

Erica Santos

It was exasperating.

Wherever I turned, it seemed like that black cat was always, always there. Outside my room, inside the cafeteria, even when I looked past the windows! My imagination must have been making fun of me, knowing how insanely easy it was to make me jumpy.

Was I getting paranoid or what? Did Leonn clone himself and scattered his gorgeous minions around the whole school? Why was it that whenever I looked up, his intense eyes never failed to capture my attention?

I blew my bangs off my face.

How big was the possibility that he was constantly within sight, but never within reach?

It was too much of a coincidence. I knew it.

I opened my notebook again.

Black cats.

Why did they remind me of him?

I think my subconscious mind had already made the connection even before I became truly aware of it. Black cats were mysterious, shadowy and elegant creatures famous for appearing unexpectedly. I honestly think they were perfect representations of him. Ha ha. Too much perfect.

You just earned yourself a nickname, golden boy.

Someone nudged me from behind. Whoever it was had started to annoy me. I tsked, but the nudging continued. When I raised my head, I realized that the room had gone silent and that everybody was waiting for something. Or someone. No need to be psychic to know who it was.

“Ms. Santos, care to explain why you’re mentally absent in my class?”

I scowled. This had been happening a lot lately. Perhaps to save efficient time and energy, I should record my reason and replay it when needed.

I flashed the sweetest smile to my teacher.

“You'll have to excuse my distracted self. I'm too busy enjoying the carefree world inside my head to be bothered by the overcomplicated, overdramatic, and just plain hellishness of the real world,” I replied without a breath or a pause, “Can you please repeat your question?”

My teacher stared dumbly at me, accompanied by the twenty-odd pairs of eyes that belonged to my fellow classmates. Again, as if I was a rare specimen on a petri dish.

Whaaat? Am I the only one not allowed to zone out in class?

I glowered at them. They still stared.

Rude, much?

Mr. Collin noisily cleared his throat, but I dragged my glare around the room – some flinched from its scorching intensity – before I returned my attention to him. “What’s the question, sir?”

“Never mind, Ms. Santos,” he mumbled as he returned to the blackboard. “See me later after class.”

Oh my crabbing nooo!

I had a scheduled interview later with the newspaper company! I still have to buy corporate attire and a new set of make-up… and it could take me who knows how long! I had no time to waste, no time to spare. With that in mind, I sputtered the lamest excuse I could think of, “I can't, sir. I-I…I have a date.”

He didn't turn. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m not joking, sir.”

“Are you telling me that meeting a guy is more important than learning discipli– “

I tried to use the most persuasive voice I could muster. “Can you just let it go once? I promise I'll behave next time. If I don't go today, you’ll ruin my entire life – “