'Time's up,' The exam invigilator ends our finals -I do a startled jump- 'put down your pens.' We throw our pens down in unison, cheering loudly after our final exam-Modern Language. The invigilator reminds us to remain silent until he collects all our papers. French, the only subject I didn't study. 'Done,' he finishes counting the stack of papers collected, 'you guys can go.'
XYZ stands beside the school gates. I pass through them without glancing at her. 'Celestia, wait! Can we leave school together?' She asks. 'Do you need something?' I make my voice uninterested. 'Your company. Shall we?' She invites. 'You should go before I touch you, XYZ .' Her name slips out of my mouth like a foreign word.
XYZ shrugs nonchalantly. 'Please. M germs isn't even real. She made it up.' I know who she's mentioning. XYZ kicks the air and starts walking. 'Don't let them push you over, you have what they fear. Take contro- ' 'Why?' I catch up to her, 'Why on earth are you nice to me?' 'Remember Gyan?' XYZ gingerly grips my wrist, 'I'm his step-sister.' Did she say... Step-siblings?
'You were mean to him in public and nice to him at family gatherings?' I ask, pulling my hand back while still moving onwards. 'Can't tell if you're two-faced or a tsundere.' XYZ recoils, looking like she's been slapped on both sides of her face.
'Yes, that's... it's what I did. It's not easy for me.' She confesses quietly, standing still. 'Are you being nice to me because you feel bad?' My tied up hair whips in the wind as I stop walking.
XYZ shrinks away, 'I-I'm.. I didn't know...'
I glare. And? She carefully defends herself. 'I was a tiny bit ashamed.'
'You're not the only girl who does,' I admit, caging anger, 'I'm surprised you care for him.'
XYZ laughs, 'Not as shocked as I was when my father married his mother. It was tough dealing with new family members, Gyan's a supportive step bro .' She seems nice enough to talk to. Not that I understand why she's compelled to do so.
I share my thought for a split second, 'Maybe Gyan and I should compare notes.'
She adjusts her bag strap and starts travelling on foot. 'Which part do you want to hear first? The wedding? Or me getting to know my second mother?'
'How did they meet?' I unleash curiosity and match her speed-now that XYZ doesn't intend to hurt.
'Well, they interacted -for the first time- through a dating app.' She replies.
'What? I expected something more romantic.' She doesn't flinch even though I'm beside her.
'Their chemistry went uphill from that point soooooo they got lovey-dovey real quick.'
She clams up, silence settling down between us. I fill in the unnerving silence, 'I see, it's totally fine if you want to talk about anything else.'
Her lips remain zipped up tight until we turn a corner, 'I can't be seen talking with you.' 'I get it.' I sigh dramatically, 'Who'd volunteer to be in my shoes?' As if I've threatened her, XYZ's eyes flare with anxiety, 'Please keep this a secret.' 'I won't tell your family matters to anyone,' I promise. 'Do you swear it on your life?' She asks. I do the oath hand gesture, 'Fine, though I can die any day.' 'You aren't thinking of suicide, are you?' XYZ's voice turns high and squeaky all of a sudden. I deny, 'Nope, just mentioning. A truck can hit me anytime.'
XYZ slumps with relief. 'I didn't know you'd regret it if I vanished one day,' I run a hand through my bangs, braiding them into the ponytail, 'stop beating yourself up.' That's what I do anyway.
'Do you have any hobbies?' XYZ asks. 'Yes.' Why are you suddenly getting personal? My brain switches to auto defence mode. 'I never know anything about you since you never say anything in class. You're indecipherable to us.' She explains, noting my wariness.
'Is that what everyone is thinking? Do they want to know me better?' I think out loud, 'Then you guys should play nice.' 'Good point,' XYZ says, 'What are your hobbies?'
Should I let you in? Knowing my hesitation, XYZ negotiates 'How about I tell you one of mine first?' 'Sure.' I make a mental note to store information pieces. 'I play the flute.' She cups her fingers, forming a circle with her thumb and index before pretending to blow through it, 'Your turn.'
I lower my guard down a bit, 'My favourite hobby -it's not really a hobby- is poking bubble wrap, I think.' 'Oh my God! Same! I love those too!' She grins enthusiastically, 'Everytime my new mother bought something on Amazon, I'd always poke the bubbles.'
'Are you in school clubs?' XYZ asks. 'Choral speaking.' I cringe at the memory of cat outfits. 'Oh right. I forgot-you're a Jollicle kitty.' 'You're not? I thought all S1G2 girls have to be cats.' I say. We walk next to each other. 'I wrote a letter to our school about my stage fright symptoms,' She uses air quotes, 'attached with a fake medical note.' 'Great idea.' I laugh, 'I should've thought of that. You're a genius!' XYZ giggles delightedly, 'That's nothing.'
'What class do you take for Modern Lang ?' I ask, 'Mine's French.' 'I take Spanish.' She shoves a hand in her pocket, 'It was never my choice. The school made me.' 'Isn't it a must to take up a language class?' I mumble the unnecessary question. 'Of course, silly. I wanted to learn Japanese.' She giggles yet doesn't continue. Is she wishing she's talking with someone else? 'But?' I lightly prompt. 'But Japanese classes were entirely full.' 'I see.' I'm unaware of what else to say. She notices my lack of speech, 'I'm learning Japanese quite successfully thanks to manga and anime.' 'That's great. I can't even count to 10 in French.' I'm not sure if I'm socialising right, XYZ doesn't seem to be bored out of her mind. I hold my breath before asking, 'Do you think I'm too blunt?' 'Nah,' She replies, 'you're ok. Ummmm... you could talk more.'
Both of us stop before crossing the road, watching cars race past. 'I don't think you're as nauseating as people say. Let's say... you're not revolting at all.' XYZ slips me a piece of paper, 'That's my number. Text me, k?' 'Ok.' Green light replaces red. We cross to the other side. 'It's lovely talking to you. I've got to find an MTR station now, bye bye!' XYZ smiles genuinely before we go our different ways. 'Bye bye.' I echo, waving.
Mum suggests I check my wardrobe instead of buying a new dress. With a barely audible sigh, I pop in and face shelves and shelves and shelves of clothes, plus numerous rows of short skirts and equal amounts of jeans. This is going to take some time. I dive deep into each rack, pulling out the limited dresses there are. ( Limited as in amount, not "limited edition". Aside from that, formal wear was never my thing.) One dress is ultra buttery yellow. Another is a splattered mess of blue and black and white and purple. The last one is blood red thick, made to be worn in winter. Two options and neither I find acceptable: the perfect excuse to go shopping in prom dress season. Mum stifles a laugh - 'A flat rectangle on top of a trapezium, to be accurate.'- when I show her a simple sketch of what I have in mind. 'It will look absolutely incredible in 3D, ' I persuade, 'There might be an identical dress on sale.' 'Alright, we'll go shopping.'
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Hey hey-
Guess where I got the stepsiblings idea from? (It's Cinderella cuz I love Disney's version.) Whatcha think of Celestia and XYZ's budding acquaintanceship? I know it's nothing deep yet- guess I'll save that for future chapters.
Vood yoo laiiik ta vote ?
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My 1st Prom
Teen FictionCelestia Blank is getting through Secondary 1 in middle school. Just not the way she expected. Being labelled 'M germs' makes the year suck. But a cute crush, bff drama, physical teenage body changes and family money happen. Then there's prom. Will...