All the Wrong Steps.

I walked to school alone the next day as Zafa had a basketball tournament whereas Swafa was homesick with a fever (correction to that she just told mom she had a fever as she didn’t want to attend Geography class today).

It was 10 minutes until the bell rang but I couldn’t care less for some reason today. I took my time, enjoying the sing-song tweeting of the neighbourhood birds and autumn wind. I smiled to myself as the wind flips my black hair off my forehead. I felt like a movie-star, heh.

Everything was perfect, my mind was in peace; all until I saw her.

Erna had her long brunette her down, the curls showing. She was walking on the opposite sidewalk, her eyes yet again, downcast.

My heart ached as I asked myself whether I should go and talk to her. Don’t let the moment go to waste, I told myself. With that, I walked over to her, crossing the road.

I wasn’t halfway across the street when she turned, as if she’d always known I was there. Her hazel eyes enlarged and she begin to walk hastily. I groan. “Erna, wait!”

She stopped abruptly and turned back to me. That was when she finally spoke to me. “How do you know my name?”

I plastered my most charming smirk on my face and scamper over to her, expecting her to run off but she didn’t. I glanced up at her for a second to see her face still horrified, as if I was Shrek. I laugh at my nonsense thoughts.

“You’re Swafa’s older brother, aren’t you?” She said, surprising me and killing my happy-go-lucky morning vibe. In an instant I stopped laughing and stared at her. She rolled her eyes and walked away, muttering, “I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have befriended Swafa.”

“Hey,” I said, catching up with her. “How do you know I’m Swafa’s older brother?”

Erna stopped walking and twirled back, her hair flying but landing back on her shoulders gracefully. “Your laugh. It’s just as peculiar as hers.” And with that, she started walking off again, this time faster.

“Peculiar how?” I asked, catching up. I heard her groan to herself and I just grin. Her eyes were downcast once more.

“Are your eyes always downcast?” I find myself asking. She craned her neck to look up at me, her hazel eyes a piercing shade hazel now. “Are they downcast now?” She asked, almost in a whisper. I felt my heart skip a beat. As if she knew, she looked away and started running off now.

“Hey!” I hollered after her. But it was too late, of course.

She was gone with the wind.

…

“So you chased the girl?” Zafa asked me at lunch. I groan and slam my forehead on the table, wincing, instantly regretting my action. Zafa laughed and I wished his laugh would just drown in together with the sea of noisy high-school students.

“It was an idiotic thing to do, I know.” I said to the table. It came out muffled but Zafa understood anyways.

“Swafa’s going to kill you. The girl’s first and last chance to make a friend is now ruined thanks to her obsessed brother.”

“I’m not obsessed!” I said, lifting my head and widening my eyes.

“Call it what you want Muhzim but it’s called obsession,” Zafa told me as he took a bite into his burrito.

“How was the basketball tournament by the way?” I asked, trying to get my mind off Erna and change the subject. My move as obvious but Zafa deliberately ignored the fact, I could see.

“We lost, as usual,” he said, shaking his burrito. “Stupid Tom West shot a goal for the other team.” Zafa muttered, pointing his chin to the well-known Tom West. He was handsome with wavy blonde hair; problem is he was incredibly stupid.

“Anyway,” Zafa said, putting his burrito down and lifting an eyebrow, looking at me. “About Erna-”

“No, no, no,” I said, holding my hands up. “We shan’t talk about her.”

“Why are you running away from the subject?” Zafa laughed at his own stupid pun. I got up and walked away, disgusted with him.

“Hey where are you running off to?” He hollered after me with a laugh.

…

“PLEASE SWAFA GIVE ME THE GIRL’S DAMN NUMBER,” I screeched, Swafa covering her ears from my madness.

“No, Muhzim. YOU’RE OBSESSED AND I WILL NOT FEED YOUR OBSESSION,” She screeched back, pointing a finger at me dramatically. I fall onto the couch as if I’ve been shot and Swafa groans.

“Muhzim you don’t even know who this girl is! What is up with you? I remember you said you were going to take your time with Qizy so that you wouldn’t mess it up a long time ago but look where you are now!” Swafa gave me an earful, reminding me of mom.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Said a voice. It was dad. He came down the stairs with a coffee mug and in his hands, wearing only shorts and a blue t-shirt.

“Muhzim is obsessed with my best friend Erna,” Swafa deadpanned, her finger once again pointing at me. I sit up on the couch and say, “I am not!”

“You’re asking me for her number, Muhzim. What could that be called then?” Swafa retaliated, raising a sassy eyebrow at me. At that very second I felt like shaving off her eyebrows.

“Obsession isn’t the right word Swafa; love is,” Dad tells her, literally making the situation worst. I plaster my most deadpan look and say in my most deadpan way, “Wow thanks for backing me up, dad.” He lifts his coffee mug and heads for the kitchen.

…

Swafa was busy watching the Simpsons when I got hold of her phone. Stupid kid, she knew I was going to get Erna’s number anyway. Ah, bonus; her phone didn’t have a passcode to unlock.

I scroll through her contacts and find Erna’s name, typing it in my own phone. I put Swafa’s phone back on the coffee table and head up stairs to my room, texting Erna as I went.

Hey, it’s Muhzim. And without thinking twice, I hit send. Erna reads it instantly, giving me the blueticks.

And the next thing I know, she blocked me.

My texts didn’t go through nor could I see whether she was online on whatsapp or not. I groan. ‘Well, better start hacking.’ I tell myself. It was 5 after 10 at night when I got her location and apparently she only lived a few blocks down from my house.

I wrote her a letter that simply said, ‘hi’ and folded it into a square. I get on my pale blue bike and cycle to her house. It’s dark now but I don’t mind.

Her house is literally a graveyard. It’s gloomy and painted with dark colours. Erna was at her doorstep when I arrived and my heart skipped a beat. Her hazel eyes shot me a look when my bike came to a stop and I was afraid now. Afraid that she had a baseball bat with her or a stick to hurt me with.

“What’re you doing here?” She said it ever so softly that I thought I’d imagined it. Her brunette hair was down in curls now and she was in a black nightdress. I hold out a shaky hand with the paper in my grasp. “H-Here you go.” I felt like a coward.

She got up after a while and took the piece of paper out of my hand aggressively. She unfolded it, read it and tore it up right in front of me. I felt my heart shatter to bits.

“Don’t come here. Ever.” And with that she walked back into her house and slammed the door behind her.

I felt dead.

To be continued in: Martha’s Party.

Last Night's Gal.

I hear a car honking outside my house and I see that it’s Zafa in his antic mustang. I grab my bag and as I’m on my way out the door, Swafa runs to block me.

“Ugh, whaaaaat,” I groan as I roll my eyes. Swafa gives me an evil grin and says, “Take me to school on Zafa’s mustang and I won’t tell Miss Jones that you did my homework.”

“Tell Miss Jones that and I tell her that you didn’t even bother to try and that you forced me to,” I retaliated, raising an eyebrow. I push her away and twist the doorknob to get out but Swafa gets hold of my hand.

“Just bring me along, please? My bag’s really heavy today and you know how mom is about posture,” Swafa whines.

“What’s in this deal for me?” I ask, smirking. Swafa glares at me and says, “Give me a ride with Zafa and I won’t ask you about my chemistry homework for a MONTH.”

In an instant I open the door and yell at Zafa, “Swafa’s hitching a ride with us and I don’t care what you have to say!” I glance back at Swafa and see that she’s smiling. Zafa has taken off his sunglasses and is now glaring at me. I ignore this and slap my shoes on and run towards Zafa’s mustang, sitting in the shotgun seat.

“Tell the kid to ride in the trunk,” Zafa tells me with a glare. I laugh as Swafa gets in the back seat, saying, “Thanks, Zafa!”

Zafa grunts and pulls away from our house. I put on my sunglasses and look towards the rising sun.

…

We get to school early and Swafa rushes off to her class, not forgetting to thank Zafa once more. Zafa and I walk to our class together. And I tell him about the girl I met last Saturday night.

“She may be a ghost,” was Zafa’s comment when I told him she’d disappeared when I turned back to look at her after 10 seconds.

Speak of the devil. That very same girl appeared in front of my eyes once more.

She had her backpack on her back and had her brunette hair tied into a messy bun. Her face was freckled and from where I was, her downcast eyes were hazel and had long eyelashes. It was as if she was the only one I could see; as if it were only the two of us in this entire school.

“Is that her?” Zafa asks, apparently noticing my awkward staring towards the girl. I hide my blushed face and manage to choke out, “yeah.”

Zafa whistles and marches over to her and immediately my blood runs cold. “No, no, no, no!” I yell as I tug onto Zafa’s shoulder to stop him. But of course he doesn’t.

The girl is now looking at Zafa and when she sees me, her hazel eyes widen and she trots away. She gets missing in the midst of people and Zafa groans. “What the hell Muhzim; I almost had her!”

“Exactly!” I say, glaring at him. I scamper off to my locker, stuff my books and take out other ones, close my locker and walk to class, not paying any attention to the questions Zafa was terrorizing me with.

As I walk in front of Zafa, I feel his disgusting smirk behind my back. I roll my eyes and turn around to see that I was right. He was smiling smugly and now that I’d turn, I’d given the monkey some entertainment.

“You like her,” he whispered, still smiling smugly. I glare at him and walk towards class.

“She looks too young though,” Zafa says towards my back. I pay no heed to his words instead I trot to class, getting away from him.

“You’ll ever get her, Muhzim!” He hollers.

…

The halls are now empty and quiet. I walk in the lonely hallway and pass by the cafeteria that might as well turn into a warzone by how noisy it is. Its lunchtime and I don’t wish to bump into Zafa.

Or anyone.

I think about the brunette and how her face changed when she saw me. Does she know me? Do I know her? Have I ever done anything to her to make her hate me so much? She turned down my help offer on the night we met. Is there such a thing called ‘hate at first sight’ now??

I sigh and walk towards the football field. It’s a cloudy day. It’s windy too. I look up to the rows of seats and my heart skips a beat when I see who’s sitting down on one of the seats.

It’s her. The brunette. She had her hair still tied into a messy bun and yet again her hazel eyes were downcast. There was a notebook in her lap and she was writing in it. Her bag was next her, leaning on her shoulder. She looked so aesthetic.

As if she was posing for a photograph.

‘It’s now or never,’ my heart says. I inhale and as I begin to walk to where she was, something stops me.

“There you are!” Hollers a voice from behind me. I turn back and see Zafa. I groan.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask, raising my voice. I might as well be enraged.

“That’s what I was about to ask you,” Zafa says as he gives out a nervous laugh. I ignore him and turn back to where the brunette was.

But of course,

She was gone.

…

“You sure you don’t want to hope in?” Zafa asks. School’s over and I’d told him I was going to walk home.

“Pretty sure I don’t,” I say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs and smiles at me anyway. He puts on his sunglasses and drives away.

“Hey, big brother,” I hear a familiar voice say behind me. I turn back and see Swafa walking towards me. “Where’s Zafa?”

“Oh,” I say. “He left without us. We’re walking home today.”

Swafa looks at me in disbelief and I just flash my most handsome smile. I begin to walk and Swafa catches up with me and we both walk in silence.

“You look glum,” she says abruptly. I turn to her and she turns to me, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. The wind untucks it and covers her piercing blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” I mumble. I look down to my shoes and I can feel her eyes on me. I groan.

“Do you know a really cute freckled-face brunette with hazel eyes?” I ask, sounding pathetically desperate.

“Oh you mean Erna?” Swafa answers. I widen my eyes and look at her. “Who?”

Swafa takes out her phone and soon enough she’s showing me a picture of her and the exact same girl I met at the night of Ivy’s party.

“Y-You know her?” I manage to stutter. Swafa laughs and says, “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve been friends since months ago.”

My eyes are now wide and I’m ruffling my hair with my fingers, the usual thing I do whenever I’m in disbelief. Swafa sees this and asks, “Why, what happened between you and Erna?”

And so I tell her everything, from the night of Ivy Wolf’s party and until today at the football field. “Does she have some kind of story to her?” I ask at the end of my story.

“I don’t know. We haven’t been friends for that long to talk about that kind of stuff,” was Swafa’s reply. I nod anyway despite the fact that I’m distressed by this.

Erna… Who are you?

To be continued in: All the Wrong Steps.