181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 41: Hands Off

Iola stared at me for a few seconds before laughing and then replied, "When she said it was the first time you encountered a nun, it just meant it was your first time to encounter a loving, welcoming nun."

"What f—is she pretending to be one?! What if it's just a trap and she'd report you to Sister Antonia?"

"Then I shouldn't be here right now." Iola kept her phone inside her pocket and faced me. "She caught me with a senior two years ago. We both thought we were doomed, and my girlfriend—well, ex-girlfriend—was already blaming it on me, telling Sister Carla how I blackmailed her to kiss and stuff, and you know what Sister Carla said?"

I leaned forward. "What?"

"That she needs to chill and be faithful instead. Sister Carla was the one who opened my eyes that that girl didn't love me as much as I loved her. You know, I was ready to risk it all. But she wasn't."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, ouch. But everything's fine now. She graduated and apologized. And I met an ally."

"I never knew we had a cool nun like that in school."

"Yeah, she's the parent I never had." Iola sighed and returned to her phone.

I wondered why she said that. Did she have the same issues as I? From the phone she was using, I could tell she was from a well-off family. I didn't want to pry on her personal life, so I leaned back and got something to read. That was until Iola asked, "Don't you have it too? Parental issues, I mean?"

"Yeah," I coldly replied. "My dad's missing, my mom's just a workaholic zombie, who sold me off to marry a man from another family."

"Eww, arranged marriages. They're still a thing?"

"I didn't agree to it. There's no marriage if there's no bride. They could fuck themselves and look for a replacement." And I will be gone by then.

She laughed then asked, "Why do you think your mother would do that?"

"To get rid of me, of course—" But then I recalled the time I saw her crying, hiding in the trees, which made me take back what I said and added, "M-maybe."

"You know what I just heard from you? There's a part of you that believes you still matter to them. I hope you're right."

"And to you? Does that seem impossible to you now?"

"Kind of. I mean, yeah, they give me the things I need in a snap . . . as long as I pretend to be, uh, the 'girl' they want me to be. But honestly, between having this or having nothing at all, I'd rather have this."

"So wealth over dignity?"

"Dignity won't feed me."

"Your principles are twisted."

"I guess if you've been both, you'll understand."

"Oh, did your family become rich overnight?" I joked, but I immediately regretted it after Iola responded.

"I'm adopted."

"Oh . . . oh, I'm sorry—"

"Please, that's fine," Iola said, shrugging off my apology as she waved her hand in the air. "I'm open about it so people have less expectations of me. That one"—she raised her pinky finger—"I'm not born rich and two"—then her ring finger—"I'm not born well-mannered."

I couldn't help but giggle about her nonchalance. "Are you the type of student whom teachers hate to deal with?"

"You could say that. But hey, I don't want to disappoint my adoptive parents, so I'm doing my best. I fail tests, but I reach the passing mark during final grading period. I'm a so-so."

"A so-so," I repeated with a soft chuckle. "So I'll be with this so-so every Fridays."

"You're staying? I-I mean, in this club?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll have a cool nun as a club adviser and a funny so-so companion. That's not bad after all."

"Geez, you're making my heart flutter."

I laughed. She reminded me of Mickey and Steph combined—Mickey with her flirtatious, lax attitude and Steph with her comical remarks.

"No, seriously," Iola added as she faced me, her right palm now on her chin. "You may not know it, but you're the campus dream girl."

I blushed. "Th-that can't be true. Jane's right there."

"She's the dream student, but not the dream girlfriend. Yeah, kind of liked her too, but she seemed too—how do I say this—stiff and serious for someone like me. Y-you're the cool version of her—no, I mean, you're on your own league. You know what I mean? Ugh! Now I'm fucking stuttering! W-well, would you like to teach me how to do math during the remaining time?"

"That was random. But yeah, sure—"

"So I could calculate how I could make you mine?"

I burst into laughter, the silent kind, as I repeatedly but gently hit her arm. The other members smiled at our conversation, seemingly giddy over the two of us talking. I ended up really teaching her math because she did need it. Apparently, she sucked at the subject. Poor girl.

Surprisingly, I had fun. I didn't even notice that club time already ended.

Iola asked me if she could accompany me to where our car was parked, and I innocently agreed. We were only a few steps away from the entrance of the parking when she suddenly skipped a few times, paused, and then screamed from the top of her lungs.

My eyes widened. Worried, I asked, "Oh my gosh, what was that for? Are you okay?!" But when she faced me, she was smiling. I once again hit her, this time on her shoulder. "You're out of your mind!"

"Who wouldn't be? Look!" Then, she showed me her hands. "I am currently shaking! Who would not be this happy after having a real conversation with her crush? We're in the same year level, but you feel like eons away. And now . . . holy shit. This is some fucking dream. Slap me! Slap me!"

Iola took my hand and slapped herself, to which I laughed. Who wouldn't? Her inconsistency was both baffling and amusing. She implied that she was nervous around me but she was able to talk nonstop and get my hand to have me slap her. Either she was playing with me or unpredictability was really her personality.

"Oh, before I forget . . ." Iola took a deep breath before continuing. "Can I have your number?"

I was about to bring out my phone from my pocket when a familiar voice responded on my behalf.

"No, you can't." We turned around to see Mickey, tightly gripping her baseball bat that rested on her shoulder. Then, sternly, she added, "And get your hands off her."