The Price of being Pretentious

Chapter Four: Date

Today is back to school Monday. The worst day of the year. During school days, it was the day of the week that was hated by most of the students.

One of the reasons, Monday is a sign that students should go back to reality. The reality that they would face another day and spend it at boring lectures, tiresome P.E. classes, and a lot more. Also, you are still adjusting to the morning wake-up calls. On the weekends, you can jump out of bed whenever you want but when back to school Monday comes, you have to be early again.

Another reason, back to school Monday is deadline day. Homework and summer projects given before the first day of summer break should be passed by hook or by crook on this day.

But my reason why I hate Mondays is that I'm always late. In this school, Mondays are a flag-raising ceremony day. If you miss it, then you have to do community service. For instance, cleaning the canteen tables during lunch break. Just like what I'm doing right now. Pathetic. If most students don't miss FRC, I also don't miss cleaning tables at the canteen. Diligent, indeed.

'Woah. Woah. Woah. What is this, Mojan? You're supposed to help me not clean tables.' Paris was panicking.

'I know. That's why I prepared these microphones and earpieces. These would help us communicate and she wouldn't be aware of it.' Pulling them out of my apron pocket.

I got them from my Dad's bodyguards. I handed it to him and he wore them in an instant.

'Just listen to my voice and listen to her reply.' He nodded to my instruction. 'Make it natural.'

But still, he looked confused. 'How can I listen to your voice and listen to her at the same time?'

'Just follow my lead. Look–,' I pointed Venice's direction. '–She's alone. Go. Talk to her.' I said, pushing his back towards Venice's direction.

'Yeah? Now? I'm not mentally prepared–' He murmured.

My brows crumpled, his voice was too low. 'You are what?' I asked.

'I'm not– mentally prepared enough.' He said between heavy breaths.

I shook my head. 'What are you saying? You look stupid. Just be yourself. How can it be that you are not ready enough to be yourself? Come on! It's you. Just go for it.'

'Okay.' He nodded.

'Just remember what I said.'

'What did you say?' Then he turned to me.

'Just be yourself!' I reminded him again.

'Okay. Here I go.' He took a deep breath.

Aw. Just look at him. He looked like a preschooler on his first day of school. I was nervous for him as he walked towards Venice. But I know he might pull this off easily. However, deep inside me, something's not right. A lump in my throat was forming every time he took a step away.

'Hi, Venice.'

'Hi, Paris. What can I do for you?'

'Ask her out and just be yourself.'

'I'm being myself.' He grunted, answering me unconsciously.

I slapped my forehead for his stupidity.

'What?' Venice asked in confusion.

'No. No. No. You're supposed to ask her out. I'm just a voice inside your head.'

'London, can I have some ketchup?' the boy said, coming from the other table.

I looked at him with my deadliest glare. 'I'm not a waiter here. Go get it yourself at the counter.' I said firmly, pointing to the counter behind him.