Roses

Chapter 8

I still can't believe it. New York. I mean, it's an amazing city and all, but it's so far... Plus, I never did babysitting. My mom explained to me that it's not going to be permanent. It's only a place where we can live until we get enough money and stuff to buy another house. I asked her: But during that time, where will all our furniture go? And she told me that her sister's house has enough place in the basement to stock our furnitures.

"Will I... have to change school?" I demanded.

My mom nodded sadly.

"You can't do all this way to your actual school, honey."

"I know..."

I won't make it to the end of the year. I will go another school before that. There are still few months left. But I only have twenty-eight days.

***

Finally Friday. Everybody's favorite day of the week, even for jerks like Matthew. My last class is literature, with Angela. She stands up and waits for me beside my desk. We get out of the classroom together. I took about fifteen minutes to do my hair this morning and because it didn't seem to be my style, I just left it the way it always looks. I wait beside her while she takes her stuff from her locker. Not so far from us, I see Matthew with his jerks friends, laughing about some lame jokes probably. Then, he notices me and stops laughing. Instead, he starts to smile devilishly at me.

"Well, well. Hi, LAMe. How's life going? I heard that you have problems with money."

Surprise is probably visible on my face because he starts to laugh. How the hell did he know that?

"Excuse me?" I say, trying to remain calm.

He winks at Angela.

"You know, cutie, you should go out with someone who's rich. Where are you going you two? Probably to the movies. Classic. For poor and LAMe people. By rich, I mean me."

Hands in my pockets to make sure that he won't notice that his words have hurt me, I clench my fists. I was going to answer back but Angela is faster than me.

"Thank you for your proposition, Matthew, but I think I'm old enough to know with who I want to go to the movies. Besides, I don't like to hang out with snob brats. By snob brats, I mean you," she replies coldly.

She closes her locker and takes my arm to drag me away from him. Then, she turns to him again and says slowly without any emotion:

"By the way, I don't care how rich you are. You are still a jerk. And a lame one, to be honest."

Seeing Matthew's face right now makes me want to laugh so hard, but I refrain myself. His friends look at him, shocked. Angela has never spoken to him that way before. Before we go, Matthew gives me one last look. This look means You're dead to me, LAMe. I don't care. That guy's dead to me a long time ago.

We walk in silence. I'm still a bit hurt by what Matthew said about my problems. I still wonder how he knew that. Angela often glances at me but looks away when I see her.

"You know, you shouldn't listen to him," she finally says.

"I don't."

"Are these... problems true? I mean, is that why you seem in your head sometimes, lost in your thoughts?"

I hesitate before answering:

"No..."

— Don't lie to me, Liam.

— Fine. It's true.

Well, half-true. Sometimes, I think about you even when you're beside me.

I look away.

"I don't know what to say..."

"No need to. I'm alright."

"You're lying again."

"You are so insightful," I say with a smile.

She doesn't smile back.

"I'm worrying about you, you know."

She is worried about me? I don't want her to be worried, but in a way, it makes me happy, because it means that she cares about me.

"Thanks, Angel. By the way, that idiot shouldn't have called you 'cutie'. It doesn't suit you."

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow, falsely outraged.

"And why is that, sir? I'm not cute?"

I blush.

"Of course you are! Uh, wait, I mean yeah, but if I was him, which I hope will never happen, I would've called you 'beauty'," I add.

Gosh, I blush even more. Her face turns red too.

"Oh... Thank you."

She pauses then adds, amused:

"So, tell me, Liam... Is this a date?"

"If... If you want it to. I mean, I don't mind, I mean..." I stammer like an idiot.

"Alright then."

She smiles. Gathering my courage, I hold out my arm in a gesture of gallantry.

"Well, shall we go, milady?"

She takes my arm.

"Sure, milord."

Milord...

One thing is sure. Even if I will not finish the year here, I will still go to the ball with Angela, as promised.