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.