Project: One Night Stand (HIATUS)

CHAPTER 11: The Devil in Whipped Cream and Chocolate Syrup

Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck. -Joseph Heller

Chapter 11:

I might have been a very bad person in my past life for my situation to be as tragic as it was right now - that was if Karma and reincarnation were true.

All my life I tried to be a good daughter; a good friend; and a good citizen to the country but I was coming close to succumbing to this festering temper gnawing within me. It was rather alarming how my escalating temper provoked me to contemplate of doing things only a criminal would think of. How would it not be when the exasperating devil was deliberately fanning the embers of my anger?

I tried my best to avoid the devil but it seemed that even fate and circumstances had connived against me because, in my every subject, Caleb Tristan Somerset was my classmate. To make things worst, he was my seatmate again. Yes, you heard it - my seatmate.

I did not choose to be his seatmate but whenever I transferred to another seat, he would always follow me like a remora fish to a shark.

The good thing about the remora fish was that through its symbiotic relationship with the shark, both had mutually benefited from it - as in the ecological concept of commensalism. The remora fish attaches itself to the shark so that it could eat the shark's leftovers - actually there are other sea creatures that it would attached itself to which became its host. In return for the luxury of eating the leftovers, the remora fish would eat the parasite from its host body to keep it clean.

Oh, my bad! Tristan in no way would be like a remora fish nor I'd be to a shark. Crap, I'd painted myself like a predator! This was a very gullible and illogical thought but maybe the devil's nearness muddled my thoughts - making it a great mess.

Anyway, now that I had remembered Ecology, there was this symbiotic relationship called Parasitism. I think I did not need to discuss the concept as the word itself was obvious. But putting my situation with Tristan in parallel to Parasitism; he was the parasite, I was the unfortunate host. Why? He benefited laughter from tormenting me while I; if his pestering continued, I would eventually develop a cardiac disease and then die young.

Just take our situation right now, for example:

"The teacher's hot, Teresa MacCoy, isn't she?" Tristan whispered naughtily to me while I was scribbling notes from our Spanish II subject. "Look at the hot Latina butt protruding beneath the tight pencil skirt and the Spanish accent - so erotic."

I tried my best to ignore Tristan even if my entire face might probably be as red as a Cayenne pepper for holding back an explosive retort.

"Ella es una mujer sexy y seductora," (She is a sexy and seductive woman.) Tristan continued while sweeping a leering look on our very attractive Spanish teacher, Miss Feliciana Amira Zuluega. He threw me a taunting look and told me, "Just say the word that you want her and, by the end of the day, she is yours."

Teresa, you need to calm down. Don't let the devil coerce you into doing something you will definitely regret for a lifetime.

Just Remember, Proverbs 29:11

'A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control.'

And you are not a fool, Teresa. Remember - not a fool.

I mentally performed a yoga-like meditation to put me into my optimum zen-mode.

"¿Por qué estás haciendo caso omiso de mí?" Tristan asked in Spanish. (Why are you ignoring me?)