This is not a love story.
It's about a girl, who no longer wants to shine in the spotlight.
A girl who no longer wants to be the villain.
A girl who no longer wants her husband.
A girl who finally took off her blindfold, and embrace her second chan...
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A V A
It doesn't take years for someone to notice one of humanity's greatest weaknesses is their inability to enjoy the moment. Always planning for tomorrow when today hasn't passed—always mourning of yesterday's regrets of what could've happened.
I bit the edge of my fingernails, a nasty habit that recently resurfaced. I used to do that when I was younger, but I stopped when others became conscious of my fingers. Paint it according to the season. Maintain it all the same size, not too long but also not too short.
"Stop that," mom said. She slaps my fingers away from my mouth. "Why are you chewing your nails again?"
"College stress?"
Mom rolled her eyes, "Yes—college stress. You don't have college for another two years. Where is this so-called stress coming from?"
"You talk as if colleges don't look at my junior year."
Mom settled on the seat in front of me and placed down her phone, "My advice?"
"I'm afraid of it."
"Crack open a book if you're worried instead of chewing your nails."
I groan slightly, "I'm fine."
"I know you're fine. You're the one who said she is worried. Now, tell me the truth. It's not college, is it?"
When has education ever been a problem for a teenager? Generally, that's the last thing on anyone's mind. I ran my tongue across my cheek, "Boys." I shouldn't be concerned about boys, but for some reason, I am. Right now, I should've been focused on my education and finding a job. A job that my parents will allow me to do.
Mom groaned, "Always them, boys, huh? Sometimes, I wish they didn't exist."
"Then, how is Earth supposed to repopulate?"
"Oh, sweet darling. Have you never heard of asexual reproduction?"
I point a finger at her, "Touche."
Mom smiles, "Now, tell mommy dearest what's going on in my baby girl's life?" She leans in closer, "Tell me something juicy that you would never tell your dad."
"Telling you that I have boy trouble is good enough then. Dad explodes whenever I say the B-word."
Mom laughs, "Your dad forgets that he used to be a boy."
"I didn't forget." Dad enters the kitchen, "Which is the reason why I don't like boys."
"So, you're telling me to be cautious of male species like you?" I ask.
He pinches my cheek, "You're getting it."
Mom shook her head, "Don't listen to your dad. It's okay to think about boys." She grabbed a piece of green grapes from the table and popped it inside her mouth.
