teenage nightmare ² ━━ amour

42.

42.
chapter forty-two:
eh? who's this
new character in
my story?

The classroom was bustling with activity. The election campaign was giving its final render, and everybody was excited to get started on the voting process. I was peering over my fake pair of glasses at the dais.

Pretty flowers were set up on the teacher's table, and the board had been divided into four sections, one for each candidate. Details of the said candidate were scribbled on their respective part, starting from their name to their logo and a trademark symbol for each of them.

Kiawe: Fire / ☄

Calem: X / ㄨ

Misty: Teardrop / ༄

Serena: Y / ყ

I wondered what tempted Serena to pair up with Calem with the letters, but then I remembered her surname, 'Yvonne,' and concluded that as the reason for keeping Y as the logo.

"What's going through that stupid mind of hers?" Gary fumed, pointing at Misty's side of the board. I shrugged, honestly gobsmacked. After returning from the disastrous therapy session, I found Misty, all pumped up, already signed up to be a candidate. "Did somebody gaslight her into this?"

"Beats me."

"Look how pathetically she's struggling!" Gary continued his rant. "She needs Yvonne's – her rival's – help to finalize her speech!"

I shrugged again and decided Gary would probably be undergoing a change in personality henceforth. And I was very unfortunate to have to be stuck with him.

"She can't lift a thing without my help! How's she going to change waters and place flowers in the damned vase every day?!"

"She'd rather swat flies than pluck flowers!"

"The girl goes insane over babies and gets mad at them! How can she take care of the pet rabbits without my help?!"

"That baka doesn't have the least bit of fashion sense! I'm the one who helps pick out her shirts! Will the other girls not hate her for that?!"

"Misty is truly forgetful?! What if she's lost without me?!"

Boy, these two need to put everything aside and get the hell together before they start eating me for dinner.

The corners of my lips tugged upward when I saw Serena approaching, but I forced the smile into a frown. "Hey. I would really appreciate it if you guys could vote for me, but considering Misty is taking part too, I could only try." I looked away, mostly out of embarrassment, as she smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll have at least one vote from us–" I jammed my foot into Gary's, and he yelped. "From the class!" he corrected himself. "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" And there she went, leaving the air faintly smelling of strawberries. I sighed and cradled my head. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you, Serena."

"Eh? I'm sure you're kidding, or you're singing Before You Go?" My eyes scanned Gary. He sure as hell went insane after Misty signed up to become a leader. "What? You thought way too loud. I'm afraid even she would have heard it!" He pointed at Serena, who had frozen a few steps away.

I frowned. Did I suck this hard at being terrible?

The election campaign went well, to say the least. Misty even gave a bright speech, but that only left Gary apprehensive. After which, we headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

Classes after the campaign went fine. Professor Sycamore had the hour after lunch, and seeing as English was the only subject I was genuinely into, it was fine, enjoyable even. The period after that was Professor Wulfric's, and I slept through the hour.

The highlight of the day was what I found in my locker after changing into my usual sneakers rather than the school's indoor ones: a letter.

"Congratulations, mate. You just earned your first love letter!" Gary said, throwing his arm around me. "Go on! Open it! I want to see what that foolish girl is!"

I let out a low growl and pocketed it. I wasn't going to open it in front of everyone, let alone Gary. That didn't mean I would never open it, though. Truth be told, I was curious, and curiosity always killed the Liepard.

Taking the daily lapses around the park as an excuse to escape a snickering Gary, Drew, and May, I found myself on one of the benches in front of the beautiful fountain.

The weather was turning gloomy by each second, and if I didn't wish to get soaked, I had to make a run for the hostel as soon as I was done with reading the letter.

It was a folded paper, neatly tucked into a handmade envelope. It wasn't sealed, though, and a bitter thought crossed my mind that sealing and stamping it might cost the girl more fortune than I was worth.

Pulling at one of the ends, I tore it out of the envelope and spread it, my eyes scanning over the words.

Dear Raven, 
Is it okay if I call you that?

Oh, I almost forgot, hi! 
I won't be introducing myself, 
so I do hope you don't mind. 

I just wanted to tell you that 
you dim the atmosphere 
when you are sad. 
You glow brighter than the stars 
when you smile. So, smile!

Love, 
Butterhead

Butterhead? Who in the world would name their child Butterhead?

As I reread the letter again, I noted that it didn't have any confession of love, as Gary had deemed it to be, rather an encouraging paragraph of words interwoven with love.

And whoever this was seemed to be invested in keeping their identity a secret, but the question was, had it reached the right locker? There was no way to confirm this Raven was me, even if it were a nickname.

With the enigmatic letter strewn across my bed, I fell asleep that night, dreaming of meeting Serena under a beautiful mistletoe. It had been great, that is, until the mistletoe turned into a "mistlefoe"; meaning the ones underneath had to fight rather than share a passionate lip-lock.