Chapter 23: The Bet *Temptation

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Chapter 21 *Temptation*

~Sophia

“Do you like Parker?” I ask Driana.

The substitute in Arts is from Parker’s university, and is a female, more or less twenty years old. She has a cute dimple on her chin, and can speak fluently in French. Her name is Chloe. She has an adorable voice when she talks and you can imagine her flying with the birds in the sky.

“Of course not,” Driana says finally.

“But you said that he’s cute,” I remind her.

She rolls her eyes and says, “Just because I said that he’s cute doesn’t mean that I like him.”

I nod my head slowly. This is the bad thing about assuming. You don’t—

“Why?” She asks, interrupting my thoughts. “Are you jealous?”

I scoff. “You know that he’s just like an old brother to me.”

“But can you resist him?” She says amusedly. “He looks amazing!”

A smirk makes its way into my mouth. “And she said she’s not interested.”

She frowns at me, not clearly affected by my words. “Really, I am not.” When she looks at my face, she adds, “I swear.”

Not wanting to argue with her, I decide to let the topic go. I don’t want her to be furious with me, considering she’s the only friend I have.

“Okay class,” Chloe says. “Get your paint and brushes in the supply room and draw something that inspires you.”

-----

Teach me how to sleep because I forget how to do it. I’ve been staring at the ceiling for a couple of minutes now since I lay on the bed. My mind is so busy thinking different things, it’s like it doesn’t want to rest.

It’s already eleven thirty in the evening!

I’m so tired. My eyes are drooping slowly but I have no peace of mind.  What will happen if I really forget how to sleep? Can someone teach me how to do it? What will happen to me then? Twenty four hours awake, with no sleep.

I put on my headphones and listen to Pachelbel’s Canon. When I want to calm myself, I usually listen to it, and it’s effective. But now, I don’t think so.

How to sleep? Can anybody sing me to sleep?

I miss my mom. When Matt and I were kids, she used to sing us lullabies until we fell asleep.

Sigh.

A lot has changed after the incident. I don’t even know my parents anymore. I don’t want to think what they are doing now.

I guess I’ll just count the sheep I see in my mind so that I can sleep. Researchers indicate that it’s quite effective. I’ll start now.

One red sheep. Two orange sheep.  Three yellow sheep. Four green sheep. Five blue sheep. Six indigo sheep. Seven violet sheep.

Wow! There are a lot of sheep in my head, and they’re the color of rainbow.

Instead of falling asleep, my mind is weirdly alert.

This is Parker’s entire fault! What did he mean when he said that He is cute? Who? He – as in Draky? But why would he tell me that he’s cute?

Is he gay? The thought makes me shudder, not that I have something against them. It’s just that I can’t imagine Parker as one of them. As far as I know, he’s straight. Well, no matter what he is, he’s still my friend. So if he really is gay, I’ll accept it.

We have our own choices so we are free to choose. Besides, he’s already a grown-up. He knows what’s best for him.

There’s something bugging me, but I don’t want to think about it because I don’t want to make sense about that complication. I can’t just escape it and pretend I don’t know so I might as well think about it now instead of waiting for sleep to come.

Who wrote: I’m sorry, and I like you?

Is there something behind those words? Are they true or maybe the one who wrote them were just pretending?

The I’m sorry can be from one of my classmates who continuously annoy me. It can be from anyone who hurt me. Hmm I can think of someone who might write it. But if they want to say sorry, they should at least say it to my face, not write it on a piece of paper where I’ll not know to whom it came from.

Parker is awfully wrong. It’s not entertaining to guess who wrote the words on your paper.

The I like you is another matter, entirely. Maybe someone is playing with me? Why do I think of Draky in that playing with me? Perhaps he has another game to play.

Why am I always blaming him for all the bad things happening to me? And why am I thinking that receiving words like I like you is a bad thing?

What if . . .

What if . . .

Sigh. I can’t even finish that line of thought. Taking a deep breath, I try again. What. If. Someone . . . really likes me?

I dismiss the thought quickly as soon as it forms in my head.

But maybe it’s true . . . I’m not hideous looking, and besides, only a fool loves a person because of his or her physical characteristics.

But it’s like, not love and there are a lot of possibilities.

Okay, I’ll just not think of that again. Anyway, there’s more important issue than the previous one.

If Parker is gay, does he like Draky? That’s why he said he’s cute?

The shuddering thought makes me want to puke. Drake and Parker? I can’t even put their names in the same sentence. They are like fire and ice. Just by being in the same room is not a good idea. Unfortunately, there is no choice about that because Parker is the substitute teacher in Literature. If ever he likes Draky, it’s forbidden because of the law. A teacher and a student cannot have a relationship.

Besides, Drake is a guy. Anyway, Parker is not gay. Even though I’m not one hundred percent sure.

If ever Parker is, he’ll not fall for Drake because as far as I’m concerned, he has taste.

Grr! I will just leave that thought behind! It just makes my head throb.

Beep. Beep.

The sound of my cell phone startles me. Getting it from my drawer, I see that I have a new message from an unknown number. The message is:

Good night Pie.

Pie. Of course it’s from Drake. Who else will it be? He’s the only one who’s calling me Pie. Where did he get my number? Will I reply to him or not? In the end, I text him:

Good night Draky!

In my mind, I add, bad dreams for you.

Beep. Beep. Whoa! He types fast.

You’re still awake?

No, I’m not. I’m sleep texting. Of course I’m awake!

The best joke I’ve heard in a long time.

That was not a joke. And you didn’t hear it; I add to myself, you read it. There’s a big difference between the two. Why is he so—

Beep. Beep.

You’re so sarcastic.

I’m not. It just depends on who I’m talking to.

What did you write on my paper? He changes the topic.

Why would I tell you?

I’m just wondering. .

Wonder all you want, I will never ever tell you. What did you write on my paper?

Secret :P

He even put a smiley. Whatever. I don’t care. And then I remember something. Where did you get my number?

Its seven minutes later when he replies:

I’m already sleepy. See you tomorrow!

Jerk! Such a bad way to dodge a topic. Because I like to have the last word, I text him:

Sleep tight!

He’s so irritating! I hope he dreams of zombies eating his brain.

I know I won’t be able to sleep anymore so I decide to walk around the house. When I pass the movie room, I open the door and come inside. To watch a good film is a good idea to pass the time.

It’s so dark! I can’t find the light switch. Where is it? I should have brought my phone with me so that I’ll have a light. I’m just being cautious because Draky might text me again. I don’t want to reply to him.

How can I find the light switch if—

A startle gasp escapes from my lips when I am suddenly blinded with the lights of the room. I haven't even find the light switch yet. My heart drums painfully in my chest as I wait for my breathing to return to normal.

“Sophia.”

I whip around to see Andre behind me. “What are you doing here?” I ask. My voice cracks at the end.

“I can’t sleep,” he answers. “So I decided to come here and watch a movie.”

I look at him through narrow eyes. This monster scared me to death!

“I’m sorry if I scare you,” he says, as if reading my mind.

“Whatever,” I mutter. Of course I won’t tell him that he surprised me.

“You,” he says, brushing off his hair that falls to his eyes, “what are you doing here?”

“I cannot sleep either.” I notice he’s holding something in his hand.

Andre follows my gaze and says, “500 Days of Summer.” He raises the DVD so that I can see it. “My friend told me it was good so I bought it,” he pauses and looks at the wall clock, “yesterday,” he finishes.

I can’t believe its past midnight.

“Do you want to watch it?” He asks.

I almost say No, but what will I do? I might as well make my time precious by watching a movie instead of thinking unnecessary thoughts; even if that means I’m going to share my time with him.

“Sure,” I say. I walk to the couch and sit comfortably.

“I’m making a popcorn,” Andre says, while turning on the screen and putting the DVD in the player. “You want some?”

“Yes,” I say. I’m starving, so why decline the food offer?

He walks out of the room and comes back after a minute, carrying a tray with two bowls full of popcorn (I can smell the flavor, which is cheese), two glasses with ice, and two coke in can. He puts it down on the table and clicks the remote for the play button. He sits beside me, but we have space between us. I’m glad he’s not invading my personal space.

“Drake told me about your game,” he says when the movie starts its opening credits.

“So?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

“What did you write on his paper?”

Wow! He’s really crazy to think that I will answer that question. “Why would I tell you?”

He rolls his eyes and says, “I just want to know because I’m curious.”

“And?”

“You want to know what he wrote on your paper,” he says matter-of-factly.

I . . . yes. I am curious. I want to know what Draky wrote on my paper because you know, about their game. Did Drake tell Andre what he wrote? Perhaps, considering they are best friends.

“Let’s make a deal,” Andre says, breaking me from my thoughts.

DEAL? As in, deal, like how they started the bet? I feel like crying, but apparently, there are no tears flowing from my eyes which is good because I hate crying, especially beside a monster.

There’s hollowness inside me, like the time when I overheard them talking. My throat is burning, it’s hard to breathe, and my eyes are stinging.

What makes him think that I will have a deal with him?

“This is how it goes,” he says, as if I already agree to what he wants. “If you tell me what you wrote on his paper, I’ll tell you what he wrote on your paper.”

It’s kind of suspicious why he wants to know about those papers; in the first place he’s not even a participant.

It is such a tempting offer. Will I accept it or not?

*****

The song is Asleep by Emily Browning (Perfect!) Another OST of Sucker Punch.