We've all heard and devoured the classic trope involving the shenanigans of a jock, a princess, a nerd, and a criminal. Although who knows of the trouble capable of ensuing when The Breakfast Club isn't PG-13 anymore?
That's the 2007 freshman batch...
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9th August 2007
It's been more than two weeks since that night, yet I can't get my head to wrap around the dreary aftermath. Everything feels like a whirlpool that changed our lives for good or bad... we'll probably never know. Mia's warning, that she would end all of us once she got a chance, is still very much fresh in my mind. More so, because I saw that storm blazing in her eyes, accompanying the lightning in the sky that night.
I am not surprised, though. We somehow made her fall in love with Archie, and utter those three magical words... all to shatter the warped reality and reveal it was a simple bet. As much as I'd be credited with birthing such evil gambles, it was George who came up with it, a few months back when we were holidaying in Vegas at a casino on Valentines. Archie and Mia had to stay back for this mid term retest, and while George didn't think much of it, I couldn't shake the doubts off.
All it took was a hundred dollar loss and a free incoming of coke and rum to get him to act on his beliefs. Something that cost him almost five times more.
I remember how George said he just couldn't see the girl with a pack of cigarettes in her boyfriend jeans and a stash of coke in her denim jacket, fall head over heels for a guy. I had to disagree. I had seen the way she looked at Archie, when she thought no one else had eyes on her. She had silently begun her quest to part the both of us, so I had to begin mine to make it seem like the dream's coming true.
Only if I had realised that feelings can take birth both ways— that when Archie began maintaining tabs of her relapses and a record of her clean days, it meant something more than just concern.
I got my share of satisfaction when she stood in Daniel's, her mouth gaping open and tears rolling down her cheeks, but also lost it just as easily when Archie and I parted ways. It was long time coming, the differences cropping up ever since me, him, and Kylie, cheered our beers on the bet. Another someone I have lost for good.
At least, I have still got this vanilla frosting to rely on–I suffice and dig a spoon in the snowy swirl, intact on top of my strawberry milkshake. I can't help but look around, observe people chattering and exchanging laughs, while I revel in the company of my own darkness.
I was in no particular mood to leave the house, but apparently, you start to get in your own head if you avoid civilisation for too long. George sent me this crap, and it did get to me, so now I am here. Krasier— a local bakery chain, that's been near my house since the remarkable nineties, and I, guilty of frequenting it since I was still learning the alphabet. I came here with my Dad for the most times, and we ritually raced each other to who can finish their milkshake faster. I always won, or rather he always lost on purpose and faked the biggest pout. To look back, it's one of the very few memories of my childhood that I have still kept safe with me.
I stare back at the tall glass, now left with mere puddles of cream, filled to the brim with frothy pink liquid. Not in the mood, I decide to get it packed for a to-go until someone familiar comes into sight. Harry.
