The Stalker

Chapter 3

I took a deep, steady breath. A part of me was grateful, my back is facing him so he won't see my face. He knows me so well, how my face falls when I'm on crossfire. I hate white lies.

"Oh, yeah. I hate white jeans, but I didn't know how to dry it off."

His eyebrows arched at no time at all. "Dry it off? What happened?"

My nerves flexed back to its normal state, I sighed. "My jeans got wet by a grape juice accidentally and someone let me wear this," I said. Jeez, am I going to tell him who gave me this?

"Who?"

"One of my classmates. She always have extra clothes with her for emergency cases." Good job, Cassandra. Keep it up.

"A good lifesaver she is," he shrugged and draped his left arm around me. Hooh! That was close!

I left Russel in the kitchen with my Mom who was busy with muffins and other baked stuffs, and climbed upstairs to my room. I changed into a more comfortable clothes, a mid-thigh shorts paired with caramel sweater. I washed my face to get rid of pressure caused by what happened before Russel showed up. I took a glance on the mirror as I recall the scene two hours ago - the model-wannabe Amanda asking for Mr. Hendrix's phone number, Mr. Hendrix's presence in one of my class, the conversation we had and. . . the wedding invitation. The twelve billion nerve cells in my brain pressed into each other, making my scalp prickle as I ran downstairs, reaching up to Russel's car and grab the paper bag. I let out a sigh of relief and rest my free hand above my chest when Mom's voice echoed through the living room, saying the snack is ready. Hmm, I'm sure my boyfriend is smothering himself with Mom's baked goods.

I went back to my room and threw the remaining stuffs from the paper bag to my bed. I gazed at the make-up set - this includes three shades of lipstick (rouge flamboyant, bright red and pink), dark eyeshadow, blush-on, neutral foundation, brown eyebrow pencil, waterproof mascara and the last item was. . . a perfume. I stared in awe, how it's weight pushes my hand down. The entire bottle was in transparent yellow, obviously feminine. There was a name engraved on the bottle itself, I can tell it's French based on how the way it spelled. This looks so expensive and costs more than a fortune! I know Russel can afford this, but he doesn't want the twenty percent of his savings spent just for one bottle of an extraordinary fragrance. I don't have a job yet but I can tell how hard to work and earn for life while spending money is so easy we might all end up broke.

A knock on the door distracted me as my inner self barks at me. My hands agreed with it, I stuffed the dress and cosmetics to my closet and brushed away thoughts like nothing got me thinking of and opened the door. Russel showed up with a tray of four muffins and a glass of cold chocolate. I felt a little bit guilt swung down to my gut.

"Carla was worried when you didn't joined us, so she told me to bring you food up here. Is there anything you are busy with?" He stated, his voice laced with concern. Yes, Carla is my Mom's name and he's calling her in first name basis because she doesn't want any additional pronoun put before her name that will make her feel old. She's a teenager at heart, sometimes.

"Oh, sorry. I was just lost. Thank you." I held the tray from him and placed it on my study table beside the lamp shade. I took a bite of one of the muffins with gusto. Hmm, Mom is really a good baker.

"What is this?" I heard him asked and tilted my head to see him staring at the pink card - the wedding invitation! I swallowed the food hurriedly like I ate nothing.