Dancing In His Storm [BxB] √

CHAPTER 15.1: STAR-CROSSED

AUGUST

They say the universe is full of wonderful things that are hard to explain. There's this famous question of what lies across the universe? There's also this question of what lies beneath the unexplored vastness of the ocean? There are even these mad spirits and paranormal occurrences all across the world that science have much difficulties of explaining. And then there's me. I can't explain what I'm currently feeling right now.

I am standing stiff like a lonely scarecrow at the outer layer of the cornfields as I watched Ambrose slowly disappear out of sight. Ambrose just drove away without leaving me something to look forward to. Why am I even thinking that?

I might have to put the blame all on me for that certain action. I don't really want to invite him inside our house purely based of the fact that we are still technically strangers in so many levels. If I was to describe this relationship, he was still my bully and I was still his pitiful prey. He doesn't know anything about me other than the fact that I'm the one who stole the girl he likes. That's way too negative to handle. I might have a few ideas about his life and what he is like. I've heard many things about him from people like Mary and even Rachel. It would be weird to call him a friend when I'm the only one who knows something about him.

Sure, I can easily lie to Wednesday and tell her that Ambrose is my friend but what's going to happen after that? A lot of things. I'm going to admit that I was frightened that my stepmother will start the inevitable random inquisition. That alone might cause some more problems that would definitely lead to my eventual demise. If I was a hundred percent willing to invite Ambrose inside, then he will be the first person from school that I'll be introducing to my parents. I don't want that to happen. I don't that first person to be Ambrose of all the possible people. I deliberately made him feel like I don't really want him inside and it did work out, but what's the catch?

Things just wound up complicated and I think I was already scrambling for some ways to deal with this Ambrose crap. I went inside the house and Wednesday was more than ready to shoot all her artilleries at me.

"Who's that?" She asked as she inched her way towards the couch.

"It's a friend from school." I replied.

"What's his name?" Wednesday was having her afternoon tea and seemed to be enjoying every sip of it. It even smelled good that it reached my nostrils even at the distance that I was at.

"Ambrose," I spat. I was thinking of lying to her about Ambrose's name but I thought of the future.

"I'm not judging him but he looked like one of those bullies," Wednesday trailed and she was obviously right. Her observation was right on point. If I was on my state of hate, I would've probably nodded and told Wednesday about a lot of things she ought to know. But I was still in a state of this complicated confusion.

"What? How did you say so?" I asked.

"Well, he has a motorcycle," Wednesday uttered and I was thrown off the edge. That seemed blatantly unreasonable.

"Does every bully own a motorcycle?" I wanted to laugh but I kept myself cool and collected.

"No, but the way he was riding that motorcycle. I'm skeptical with that certain swag. And his eyebrows."

"You mean the slit on his eyebrows?"

"Yes, that slit."

"Hmm. He's not a bully and I can assure you that," I trailed in a rueful lie.

What the hell am I even thinking? Why am I even protecting Ambrose? Although Wednesday's judgment sounded weak and borderline prejudicial, she's frankly correct about Ambrose being a bully.