Everything She Needed

05 | problems

05 | problems

     Last night was a mix of the good and bad. The good, with of course, having Declan being coincidentally there the moment I needed a friend, and the bad with me coming home to my parents fighting. It was honestly surprising since they don't normally argue at such a late hour. The only thing that I needed to make my life a living cliche was my Dad to go up to their room, pack all his things in his suitcase, and walk out the door. Thankfully, he didn't do that. All he did was shut himself up in his room, leaving Mom plop down on the couch, rubbing her hand on her forehead. I don't even know if they noticed I was there. Even if I creeped into the house and hid behind the kitchen counter, they could've at least seen me walk in.

     But they didn't.

     It was something I cursed and thanked. And for five minutes, I had an inner debate with myself on whether it was a good or bad thing. Good, because I didn't get caught sneaking out. Or bad, because I didn't get caught sneaking out.

     I didn't get any sleep, not even for a seconds, not without all of these thoughts floating in my head. Why did everything have to be like this? I remember how my grandma once told me that even after I was born, they faught. It was to the extent that Dad had to go and sleep in a hotel for three nights because he couldn't stand looking at Mom.

     If I wasn't here, would they be divorced? Am I the only one keeping them together? The reason why they're still together? Maybe one of these days Dad's going to actually walk out of the door, and to our surprise, there's another car waiting for him outside, and it's his other girl?

     Mentally slapping myself for thinking that, I shake my head, denying every thought that my brain had ridiculously conjured up. He couldn't do that to us. He couldn't do that to me.

     And then I remember this boy. His name was John. I remember him saying that he hated his name, claiming that it was too common for such a 'unique' person like him. It was way back in middle school, which was way before I became cupid. He was one of the populars, which isn't very clichè since I had some popular friends back then (and I have absolutely if that made me popular too).

     I was new back then, had some friends here and there, didn't know a lot, didn't know who to mess with and didn't know who not to mess with. It was a cold, rainy afternoon back in my hometown, and just like that, his chat head popped up in my phone. Hi, it had read. And then a couple of seconds later, Hi. Good afternoon. I was just wondering if we could become friends? I wasn't an idiot, of course I went through his profile. I had to make sure he wasn't some sort of weirdo who lived on the other side of the planet.

     Decent wouldn't be the word to describe him; not even good looking. He was handsome. I wasn't going to deny that. Yeah, sure :) I replied not a few moments later. There was something about him that seemed so familiar to me.

     You don't remember me? He had asked, which made me furrow my eyebrows. I was about to type in a no, but within an instant he added, I was the guy from the entrance exam.

     I raised an eyebrow, Which one exactly?

     He replies quickly, I remember telling myself which had made me want to talk to him more. The guy with the blue shirt. He responded not a minute later. You might've caught me stealing a few glances from you. I'm sorry, by the way. I could've creeped you out or something.

     That guy. I remember his curly hair, the way it reflected against the sunrays that peeped through the windows. He wasn't the only one stealing glances. I found him profoundly attractive, which made me steal glances as well. Definitely more than I can count. His blue polo matched his eyes. I remember how his lips looked soft and peach. But every time I'd look at him, he'd quickly turn his head back to the test paper, then wiggle his pencil as if he was just writing. I looked back down on my test paper, and I could see him look back at me behind his shoulder.