The Original Bad Boy

13| It's Just A Prank, Bro

"The original bad boy . . . doesn't tolerate pranks."

13| It's Just A Prank, Bro

As a normal teenager, I understand that 99% of the time, life simply sucks.

I still have trouble accepting that.

The entire weekend I spend my time either on texting my friends or finishing Arsen's algebra II packet, which he neglected to do the previous two months of school, seemingly. Or the past three years of high school. What kind of a student still takes Algebra II their senior year? He really didn't do this work.

Isa and Danie keep their silence and don't text back. Rather than being depressed, I'm frustrated. I'm not the only one who dragged us all into a mess.

Did they forget the previous dirt biking race?

"Screw it," I mutter and put my phone away.

If they want to stay mad, be my guest.

The weekend drags by until Monday comes and I locate Arsen hanging outside the school with his friends. I don't know whether it's the right time to approach him or not. Holding the packet in my hand, I try to catch his eye. Too bad the girl in his lap has all his attention. His usage of girls repulses me.

He changes girls like clothes.

He's busy kissing the redhead in an extremely intimate position, a bit away from his buddies. Her hands tangle in his hair, pushing him so close to her as if wanting to cut off his oxygen supply.

Maybe that's what he deserves.

Something inside me feels almost . . . hurt. When we were younger, I always thought it would be us two, sitting together and being the star couple in high school and maybe, throughout our entire life. Heck, I never even considered another guy to take the place Arsen held in my heart. After encountering Arsen's current behavior, I know he's long been moved on. It's just me, trying to hang on to the past memories.

I enter the school building in disappointment. I don't know why I can't accept his changed personality.

Reality is the hardest thing to accept.

* * *

I end up at the diner directly after school and contemplate waiting for Arsen as I fumble with the lock.

Just as I enter, I almost collapse from a heart attack.

Someone's already seated in one of the chairs with his long legs stretched out.

And he is snoring.

Light on my heels, I approach Arsen's sleeping figure and tap on his shoulder. As predicted, he doesn't wake up. In his hands, I see a Newport pack and a lighter. Disgusting. He must have been waiting for me, but how did he get inside? Maybe the back entrance? Another window climb? Should I wake him up?

An idea suddenly pops in my head. I cautiously move around the diner, shutting all windows and pulling curtains on top to block every ray of light coming in.

Then, I fill up a steel pitcher with water in the kitchen and place it on the table Arsen chose to take over. I go back inside and rummage through a few things before locating a dozen candles, which the girls and I bought to decorate the diner for Halloween.

Time to spook Arsen.

I use the lighter in his hands to bring forth a flame to every candle and decorate them around the dark room.

I hold one in my own hands and approach my ex friend. Thankfully, Arsen's still snoring. Seeing such a peaceful, unstressed expression on his face reminds me so much of how he used to be. So attractive, though heartless. I can't help but allow my fingertips to gently sweep the hair on his forehead to the side. His serene face is too mesmerizing under the illumination of a single flame.