#Flirtationship

chapter one : promenade farewell

It's our last promenade. Next year, we would either be in fast food chains serving food to ill-mannered and irate customers, or we would be somewhere in any corner of the world taking up a college course.

That's why our batch representative -- Stan -- ha made sure we would have a memorable last promenade, and he hasn't fail us.

Boozes and punches are served on the dining table. Tacos, chips, pizza, burgers, and fries are the appetizers.

The main courses include one of Caesar's Salad topprd with bacon bits, Mac and Chicken pasta mixed with raisins and pineapple tidbits, Seafood Supreme, Spare Ribs, and grilled steaks. The desserts are chocolate crepes, triple decker berry cheesecakes, mousse cakes, jelly ice cream, and S'mores.

It is indeed an unforgettable night for everyone of us.

Especially for me.

"I'm leaving for London in three days. I got the letter and I said yes. I'm finally getting my dream, Kitty!" he tells me, a wide grin flashing on his newly-shaved face.

How can I not be happy for him when he has that wide grin plastered on his pretty face?

I give him a hug and a pat on his back as as sign of congratulation. As I pat his back, I close my eyes and inhale his familiar scent. It's the last time I'll be with him, anyway. I would definitely miss him.

"I'm so happy for you, Ethan," I tell him when I have unraveled from our hug.

He looks at me earnestly with a smirk on his pretty face. "I'm expecting you to drive me to the airport."

"I can't," I answer eagerly, shaking my head.

He frowns. "Why not?"

"I'm also leaving on that same day," I lie. "My dad wants me to follow him to Barcelona and study for college there."

He nods, though unsatisfied with my response. "I guess, we have to spend, then, our last three days together before we part."

"I can't," I reply promptly. "I mean, you have to spend them with Lucy than with me, right?"

Just then, the third party comes in, calling for him. I immediately excuse myself to avoid Lucy's icy glare.

I march to the dinner table and pick up some shots of Purple Hooters. I have drunk three glasses before I swallow the lime and felt the heat and sourness mix in my throat.

I am about to take one more shot glass when a hand has taken the shot from me. When I have peeked up, I see Lance who has been staring at me annoyingly. I just give him a wide apologetic smile.

"You know you can't drink, Kitty," he warns coldly.

"I just had three," I testify, rolling my eyes at him.

"Did you tell him?"

I shake my head. "He's leaving, anyway."

I try to grab one more shot but his fast hand has stopped me.

"You can't," he warns, his lips compressed in a thin line.

"Fine!"

I pull his hand and lead him to the dance floor.

"Then dance with me!" I challenge him.

His jaw clenches, but surrenders. We have dancef for half an hour until the emcee -- which happened to be our batch representative, too, Stan -- calls out for our club, the Glee club.