Chapter 1

He laughed.

It's not the ha-ha-you're-the-best-joker-ever kind of laugh, it gave me more of a message like the ha-ha-you're-being-crazy. 

I don't know whether I should feel insulted or I should classify this as one of those "normal Luke behavior", because quite frankly, this wasn't what I was expecting. People don't just laugh if you told them you liked them, right? Or is that, like, the standard conduct nowadays and I just didn't happen to be informed? I always thought there could only two ways he'd respond. I never knew there was a third way.

Possibility number one: He'd say that he felt the same way and he had waited long to let me know. (" I feel the same way. It's you. All along it has been you.")

Possibility number two: He'd reject me. ("I just don't see you that way. I'm sorry.")

And right now, he's infront of me, across this table in a cozy, warm restaurant, red from laughing after I just told him I liked him.  I didn't know he'd take this as a colossal joke.

"Very funny, Hassie. I didn't see that punchline coming," he said while his face turning redder than ever from fits of laughter. He clutched his stomach and his eyes looked watery when he opened them.

If it wasn't for the fact that I really do like him, I would've laughed along, too and take it just as lightly. But of course, that only happened in the world of my life's ideal movie playing in my mind. And that's not where I live. I live in the reality where I'm stuck in a clichèd schoolgirl crush with a bestfriend who treats me as "more than a friend, and a family outside home" (his words, not mine) .

And that just basically places me to the "sis-zone".

Then it hit me that I was in the worst 'zone' I could ever be in, really. The word just practically screamed "purely platonic" so much, I could join their family picture.

Being in the sis-zone (or friend-zone, whichever you choose to call it) is actually a potentially good zone to be in. I'm speaking of course, if you are in a movie or a drama series (which unfortunately, isn't my case).

The idea of being in any '-zone' in the world there is, practically sold many popcorns because majority of them promised a happy ending. But that isn't life. That was scripted. And right here, right now, my heart is on my throat, and my proclamation is making him laugh like it's the most hilarious thing he has ever heard.  It was one of the silliest, un-movie-like scenes there was.

"W-why would I joke about something like that?" I asked with an awkward half-smile across my face.

"Come on, Hassie. Knock it off. That's the weirdest joke I've heard," replied the red-faced one.

Ow.That stung a bit.

In my mind was a mental war- two sides debating whether I should repeat what I said, be firmer or I should concede it as a joke, like he thought it was.

Looking at him blissfully ignorant of the torture he's giving me, I decided to do the latter.

I wanted to laugh and cry at myself, too, because it's already tragic he sort of made it clear he never thought of me the way I thought of him, but to add offense to the injury, he thinks the idea is hilarious.

I cleared my throat, willing myself to regain composure. I straightened my back and let go of the hem of my skirt, which I noticed I was crumpling all the while. 

"Is there someone else you're bringing here?" I asked him tentatively, eyeing the plate next to his.

This question perked him up. His face reminded me of how my cousin's face lit up every Christmas when he was told he could open his presents. Bubbles of panic rose within me.

"Yeah, there's someone I thought you'd like to meet actually," he replied with a full smile.

"So you mean, the reason you took me here was to meet this...this person?"

He nodded once and with a curious gaze, looked at me as if I just asked if Earth is a planet.

Then, it suddenly clicked.

There was just this gut feeling like it will be one of those moments when you're in a TV show and they show you these objects you interpret, then it turns out what you saw was just an illusion that you formed in your mind, like a prank you pulled on your brain. 

Very nice, Hassie.  Did you actually thought he's bringing you here for a date?!

I was biting my lip, reining the wrong words in that I could potentially say.

Probably sensing the whirlwind of confusion, wrecking havoc in my mind, he began to say, "I wanted you here so I could, you know, see if you approve."

As if that explained everything.

"Approve of wh--?"

Before I could even finish asking, he was already pointing at the restaurant's entrance, and hurriedly replying, "There she is."

And that's when I saw her, I mean really, truly, clearly see her. The one the third plate is for. The one who also turns out to be the reason why I'm seated in this restaurant, secretly wishing only minutes earlier my bestfriend liked me, too.

The girl, who apparently is also my worst enemy.

She strode gracefully to the table and for a moment or two, I tried to take the situation in all at once. It was like one of those slow motion moments in films. From where I was, I sat frozen.

She had a sleek, straight black hair that fell to her slim waist, the eyes that were emphasized by a minimal but distinct eyeliner, and the fair complexion that hinted she was one of those girls who really follow a regimen or follow their dermatologist's advice. 

Needless to say, she looked like one of those airbrushed models out of a glossy magazine when they were in their teens.

And then, there's me.  Gaping and slack-jawed. Average height of 5'4, average complexion, average waistline (25), average hair length, and just basically...average everything.

When she approached our table, she didn't immediately saw me, but when she did, recognition registered in her face.

"Jasmine, this is Hassie, my best friend," Luke introduced. 

She shook my hand with her perfectly French-tipped and manicured fingers firmly and smiled at me meaningfully, her eyes never leaving me.

"Interesting. Glad to meet you, Hassie," she replied, emphasizing my name, and letting it linger longer than necessary. 

Do you know the times when even in foresight, you know something is gonna happen, but then again, no matter how aware or prepared or you are, nothing truly makes you ready for the painful blow? Well, this is it. The moment she stepped in, I guess I sort of already saw it coming, but even if I did, that didn't made it easier to listen to the words he said next.

"And Hassie, this is Jasmine. My girlfriend."