The Love Story of a Misfortunate Girl-- Edited

Three--Will know or Already Knew?

Duke's POV

"Yo, man! What's up?" Dexter greeted after he lightly punched my back. Noticing the paper I was carrying, he asked, "That chick still bothering you?"

"What do you want, Dex?" I asked, ignoring his first question regarding the paper.

"Nah, nothing much... just asking my bestfriend about his first day. It was a wonderful day, isn't it?"

I ignored him again, seemingly stubborn. He frowned at first, then he flashed a toothy grin, "Party at my house tomorrow at eight, 'kay?"

I stared irritably at him and replied, "Dude, you already know that I hate parties."

He then countered, "Just because you never experienced it just for one night." I replied, "I don't wanna go hardcore. Bad for me, anyway. So no."

"Awww... Alright, but if you change your mind, give me a call." He said while he lightly punched my back again then he turned around and left. I rolled my eyes in disappointment as I spotted him fliriting with the girls on his way.

I continued walking towards my locker. On the way, I found her fixing the books in her locker. I dashed towards her and greeted her with a name listed on the paper, "Hey Anna!"

But that name didn't drag her attention as she looked seemingly stubborn. "Is your name Anna?" I asked again.

This time she answered the question but without looking at me, "No..."

I looked at the paper again and said, "Is it Bea?"

"No!"

I looked at the third name listed, "How about um...Regine?"

"No!!!"

I pronounced the next name, "Kayla?"

Instead of saying "No" again, she slammed the locker, faced me, and then she said something while pointing to the paper, "Seriously? What's written in that paper? Names of your ex-girlfriends?"

Fascinated by her cleverness, I replied curiously, "How did you know?"

Then I noticed her sweat dropping. She started to stammer while replying, "I--a-ah--- I'm just guessing!"

Thinking that she was only lying when she said that, I tried to ask something randomly. "You were my girlfriend?!"

Okay, that was a stupid question. This plain and unnatractive woman was never my girlfriend.

I noticed a faint of red shade on her cheeks as she said, "N-no, I-I'm not you idiot! Will you quit as..."

I wasn't able to listen her last sentence when suddenly my vision started to blur. My head feels heavy and painful that I dropped my list just for my hands to support my head. God, it's happening again. I thought while I felt my sweat sweep down from my face.

She looked at me, concerned of my position, "What's wrong?"

I tried looking at her, but my vision is still blur. "Nothing, it's just a headache."

Her concerned voice triggered my memory to picture up a young girl asking me the same question with her same sweet voice. 'What's wrong?'

Get out of my damn, fucking head!

She asked me again. This time she is bit more anxious, "Can I take you to the clinic?"

Trying to erase the images that took up my pain, I tried to reply, "No, no, I-I'm fine... I can take care of myself, don't worry." I tried walking despite the pain. But she pulled my arm, trying to stop me.