Chào các bạn! Vì nhiều lý do từ nay Truyen2U chính thức đổi tên là Truyen247.Pro. Mong các bạn tiếp tục ủng hộ truy cập tên miền mới này nhé! Mãi yêu... ♥

Itchy doubts

Martin

My average day usually starts with John waking me up at 7:10 in the morning, after he's heard my alarm go off three times and he's completely done with it.

My breakfast is just a glass of milk, because a) I usually can't hold anything else down in the morning, and b) we're in a rush; if we don't start walking to school at 7:30, we risk running late, which apparently, is a big deal for John.

We're in a rush today, so much so, we don't pick up Vee in our way. This is a first since John started dating her, almost a month ago, and John is not particularly happy about it.

CJ High is a big jungle populated by almost two thousand natives from every kind of environment and ethnicity. Whatever; I just lump them together in two main groups: girls I've dated and their respective groupies, and the rest.

In the first group, there are people I could still hang out with; people who don't really care if I'm dead or alive, and people who'd enjoy kicking at my bloody corpse. I have a feeling this group is getting bigger with each passing day, but let's leave that depressing topic for some other time.

Like I said, though, this is still a big jungle with over two thousand kids. Most of them are in the 'other' group; the people who don't really know or don't really care who I am, because I haven't broken a girl's heart in their social circle yet.

More often than not, a girl from this larger group will come to me, maybe out of curiosity, or maybe because she really wants to be the next girl I kiss. Whatever her reasons, today is clearly one of those days, because this gorgeous girl I've seen in the aisle walks right up to us. I elbow John to get his attention, but he's too busy looking around trying to find his girlfriend in the crowd.

"Good morning, guys," the girl says. A confident smile enhances her round cheeks. She looks at my cousin first, and then her eyes lock on mine.

"Morning," we both reply, although we're showing very contrasting levels of interest. John is about to walk past her, but I grab his sweater and hold him in place.

"You're Martin, aren't you?" the girl asks, her pretty amber eyes still locked on mine.

"I see my fame precedes me," I say, taking a step closer to her, returning her smile. This girl is indeed pretty, and she knows it. I like that.

"I'm Sandra. Pleased to meet you." Then her eyes turn to John again. I have to elbow him again to bring him back to earth.

"Oh, uhm... I'm John," my cousin says, somehow producing an obviously false smile. But Sandra isn't one bit fazed by his lack of interest. She turns back to me and her springy cultivated curls bounce around her face. She stands a bit straighter, gaining a few inches, then takes a deep breath.

"I was hoping I could get a minute to talk to you, if that's okay with John."

Too bad, I really wanted John to see me in action.

"Sure, no problem," John says without even looking at us. He's smiling, so he's either relieved he has a reason to walk away, or he has found Veronica. He heads towards the stairs, but he stops cold and turns back to face Sandra. "You don't know what you're getting into, but it's still not too late to give up." And then he dashes out of sight. Sandra laughs in a very girly way before turning back to me, all bouncy curls and enthusiasm.

"So what can I do for you?" I ask her, looking at her straight in the eyes and leaning in a little closer.

"Let's get this out of the way to avoid any confusions: I'm interested in John."

Now THIS is something new. I don't find people who surprise me that often, but this girl is definitely one of them. I take a deep breath, nod slightly, and try to keep my cool.

"Shouldn't you be talking to him, then?"

"He's obviously not interested," she says, as though I'm too dumb to notice. "That's why I need your help. You must know him pretty well. You two are always together."

This girl isn't asking: she's stating facts. She's probably been watching us from afar for some time now.

"Mostly. When he's not with his girlfriend," I offer, eager to see how she reacts.

"Girlfriend?" she says, surprised. It's plainly obvious she hasn't acknowledged Vee's existence at all. "You mean that little girl who's always clinging to his arm?"

I don't try to conceal the fact that I'm starting to dislike this girl. 'That little girl', as Sandra called her, has turned out to be a wonderful girl, and I'm glad that John's dating her.

"That's his girlfriend, yes."

"Is that so?" she says, a fake worried expression on her face as she idly plays with one of her curls. Then she tips her head to one side. "I thought she was his sister or something. If those two are actually dating, honestly, I am Angelina Jolie."

"May I get an autograph, then?" I joke, but I'm not the least bit amused. Then I think that I might enjoy this conversation a little bit more if I could get a reaction out of her. I lean in even closer, tilting my head a little bit, as if I'm going to kiss her. "You're not Angelina, but you certainly look just as pretty."

I expect her eyes to betray her, to look away, to be embarrassed. But she carefully holds my gaze. She doesn't flinch or show any hesitation at all.

"You're one very funny guy. I can see why you're so infamous." And the dismissive, unfazed way she says this feels like she's mocking me. But it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that, just as it happened with Vee, my charms are not going to work on this girl.

"Well, I'm glad you're not that kind of girl," I tell her, stepping back a little, and I'm surprised to find I mean it. I'm glad to see she actually likes my cousin.

"Are you going to help me, then?"

"I would but...in all honesty, I don't think it's going to do any good," I tell her, just as the bell rings.

"Don't answer me yet," she says, straightening my shirt collar and after that, my tie. She's quite bold, and I have to admit, I like that a lot. "Give it some thought, and let's talk again in a few days."

We'll see about that.

That's what I think as I walk away. I'm pretty sure nothing is going to change 'in a few days', not even in a few years if I had to venture a guess. Because that's how much John likes Vee. But it's probably pointless to try and explain that to Sandra. She definitely likes John. Who knows? Maybe even more than Vee does.

"Martin?" she calls out before I'm off earshot. Her expression is serious. "They don't look like a couple. I'm sure even you must agree with me on that. They might think they're dating, but... if you look at them closely, you'll see what I mean. It's more fooling around than actual dating."

To be fair, I don't have any strong reasons to argue. I can see what she's talking about. For example, there's the fact that Vee still greets John with a peck on his cheek. Not even once have I seen them actually kissing. And aside from the fact that Vee is permanently locking arms with John, they don't really look particularly lovey-dovey. I could argue that they're both low-profile and not the kind of couple who shows off, but that's not exactly a strong argument.

At any rate, John likes her a lot. This much I'm pretty sure of. And Vee likes him back, or at least I think she does. That's what counts. I hate not to be sure; it feels like when your feet get itchy and you can't take off your shoes to scratch. I get really, really pissed because of this, and I stay that way all day long.

"What's wrong?" Vee asks during Bio, because she now sits with us.

"Hmmm," I mumble. I don't really know what to tell her. I can't be so blunt as to come out and ask if she and John are really dating, or if they're just trying to fool everyone. Especially me.

"You have this very serious face and you're extremely quiet," she says, mimicking my expression. "It's just so unlike you. Something has definitely happened."

"Matter of fact, it did," I say, an idea finally brewing in my mind; one from the fourth ring of hell, as John likes to say. I don't like Sandra, and I don't want to help her with anything, but she's exactly what I need to clear my head. Especially if I'm acting weird enough for Vee to worry. So, I take a piece of paper, and scribble a message in my neatest handwriting. Since we can't use our phones, we gotta go old-school.

I heard there's this super-hot chick trying to steal your John.

She snorts a little when she reads my note, then scribbles something before passing me the paper again. She has a small handwriting. Very neat; like a printout.

She's not the first and she won't be the last. Let's face it; I have a hot boyfriend. Even my sister said so, and she's 21.

This isn't the kind of answer I was expecting. I expected her to be scared, surprised; something that could be a sign my cousin is important to her, a dramatic moment when she realizes she can no longer take John for granted. Which, apparently, she does. It shouldn't be something to laugh off. I jot something down again, not as neat this time.

Does John know about these girls?

I don't think he needs to know.

Good point. What if any of them tries to do something?

Something like what?

Like making a move on him?

I think he's mature enough to know who he wants to date.

Where did this girl get so much confidence? She's not even flustered. It's like she knows how much John really likes her, which to be honest, makes sense. They're dating, after all. But still. And as much as I like them, girls with such a large amount of confidence are extremely annoying. Especially when you want that confidence to falter. I rip another piece of paper from my notebook.

Aren't you scared that he could, maybe, hook up with any of them?

Should I be?

I don't know which girls you're talking about, but I heard this chick is ember-hot.

I watch carefully as she reads that over and over, as if I wrote it in a different language. This is when her amused smile retreats, and she looks up from the paper in her hand, her big gray eyes locked on mine. Finally, a reaction! Now we're talking.

Who's this girl, anyway?

Does it matter?

Just tell me.

I just know her first name is Sandra. I don't know her last name, but she's probably in ninth grade.

This time, the piece of paper doesn't come back to me, and there's not a trace of a smile on Vee's face anymore.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro