Betrothed

Part One

At twenty four, Finnegan Kree never thought he would be asked by his parents to get married already. He just started working fresh off of college two years prior. He's just beginning to assemble his life in preparation for what exactly his parents had asked of him one morning.

"Remember that boy you promised to take care of?" Daniel Kree asked Finnegan soon as the latter reached the breakfast table. Daniel glanced at his son with a small smile before he went back to reading the news on his tablet.

"What?" Finn stared at his father, confused. "That was like, what, when I was seven?" He asked as he tried to mask his surprised state.

Isabella joined the table with a kiss on her husband's forehead. Daniel pulled a chair for her. She turned to her son and gave him a warm smile. "Yes, sweetheart. But you even wrote a promise three years later. And then declare the same oath years later. You were so consistent about it."

Finn almost face palmed himself. How can a childhood's promise be held against him, he thought. But then again, it was something he should see as a good thing, he mused as hid a smile to himself.

He coughed and asked, "You're not even gonna ask if I still like him?"

Daniel and Isabella exchanged a meaningful look. "You'll be fine, sweetheart." The woman said with a sympathetic tap on her son's head.

Daniel reached for a paper on one end of the table. He gave it to Finn. "That's his school and schedule. Go see him."

With a fake groan, Finn took the paper, left breakfast and headed for work. He didn't know whether he should be happy because his parents are making him marry his first love or scared that the said boy might just have forgotten him and consequently, ignore him.

***

It's Friday. Finnegan had been battling himself whether to see the boy his parents want him to marry or postpone it for another week.

"Ah, fuck it." At three o'clock in the afternoon, the twenty four year old regular left his office and drove his motorcycle from his father's company heading to Bella Terra Integrated School.

Upon arriving, he quickly scanned the high school department of the said school as he removed his key off his bike. He groaned for the umpteenth I time, annoyed by the nervous tick in his jaws and the relentless butterflies in his stomach.

"Now where the hell is class 3-1?"

Finn passed by and ignored the students. They were wearing their school unifrom, a blue blazer over a white shirt, some others have vests, checkered pants or skirts, and then black shoes. He snorted when he remembered wearing same clothes and his betrothed would look at him with great admiration.

"You are so handsome, P'Finn!"

The twenty four year old suddenly felt nervous. He halted on his steps and examined his attire -- black shirt with top two buttons undone, black jeans and brown boots. "Do I look like an old man or a gangster?" He murmured.

With a long sigh, Finn calmed himself. He wouldn't be getting greetings and giggles from frmale students if he looked bad. He continued talking. Standing at 6'1", he walked the main building with long and arrogant strides.

The gushing from female students didn't let up as he passed by them at the corridors. But Finn's mind was on one thing -- searching a certain classroom.

Finally, he found the room he was looking for. When he stood by the door, scanning the curious faces of the third year high school students, he found the face he thought he successfully forgotten.

The eighteen year old with pale skin, black hair, his long lashes fluttering above his beautiful eyes, was giving his full attention to something the spotless window next to him was offering. He had been lost in his thoughts like he always has.

The teacher, a woman in her early thirties, while giving her class their homework for the weekend, sighed a sight in front of her. Her class' attention is obviously taken by whoever was standing by the doorway.

Instead of shooing Finnegan Kree away, the teacher herself gazed at the man with smitten heart. She waved her students goodbye with a quick "Class dismissed" and gathered her stuff to meet whoever the handsome hunk was.

Ms. Mitchell's class almost was on a stampede as girls crowded the way to the door. When she thought she could see the man finally after all the students had left, she was disappointed to see he already disappeared.

The uninterested eighteen year was the last one to leave the classroom and he headed straight to where his bicycle was parked. The sadness in him was evident through his blank gaze he directed towards everything he sees.

Brandon James, a quiet boy kept to himself. It's been that way for six years or so. Not minding the squeals of girls and some boys over somebody, he went and unclocked his simple means of transportation.

"Care for a ride, baby Bran?"

Brandon felt his heart race instantly, his face burn up, and his pulse quicken. He hasn't heard that endearment since he was twelve.

The eighteen year old got up from his crouched position and pivoted to see who it was behind him.

(To be continued...)