According to Xander, his younger brother has a martial arts competition after lunch. Of course, I was interested, as I have taken martial arts classes before. Before heading to the stadium where the competition is going to be held, Xander treated me to lunch from the food stalls displayed around us, including sandwiches, drinks, and desserts. I can’t really tell if they are that good because I am still feeling a little nervous when around crowded people. “You’re still drinking matcha?” I wonder out loud when I see him carrying two cups of them before heading towards our table. He hands one to me before taking the seat before me. “Have you drank any other beverage aside from matcha?” “W-Well.” He suddenly takes on an embarrassed expression. “I-It’s not like I have drank anything other than matcha ever since you introduced it to me.” “Seriously?” I cock my brow while wondering if it’s my fault that this guy turned into an addict. “What?” His tone suddenly takes a defensive one. “I
Patrick’s gaze registers fear and panic before he quickly masks them. “Did my brother forget to tell you that I am practicing martial arts? Getting a bruise is common.” Look at this sweet and adorable little child trying to fool me. “I agree. Getting a bruise is common for beginners practicing martial arts, but what I’m wondering is why is the bruise under your wrist? Kendo is a martial art that has four hitting spots—the head, neck, wrist, and stomach.” I counted them off slowly with my fingers, making sure that he understood where I was getting at. “The bruise is under your wrist, which is a spot that’s unlikely to be hit.” Getting hit under the wristtends to make it harder for the player to move his hand because of the swelling. Since Kendo is a sport that heavily uses wrist movements, it is pretty obvious that whoever did this to Patrick doesn’t want him to win. Patrick looks like he is going to be on the verge of tears, which is NOT what I wanted from him when I decided to co
I got lost—no surprise there. Thankfully, I managed to get directions from the female participants. It’s a little weird for me to ask them to point me in the direction of the boys’s locker room, but I gave them the excuse that I am a relative of one of the players. When I got to their locker room, I was just in time to see their coach leave. “Excuse me.” After making sure that my wig is still on my head, I head over to greet the man. “You’re Coach Leyman, right?” “Yes.” The coach pauses to answer me. I can tell by the look on his face that he is a little curious and wary of me. “Do you need something?” “Hi, I’m Barbara Sandoval. I write the news for Waynard High school paper. I heard that the boy named Patrick the younger brother of Xander Andrew Luis. Do you mind if I interview the kid? His performance was really amazing. You must have taught him really well!” I hope he did not see me gritting my teeth when I threw out a fake compliment. Though it is true that I just gave Patrick
“Hailey, stop acting like a wild animal and get down from the car.” Xander tries to coax me, but I just stay at the very back of the van, hiding. “Hailey, come on.” The manner in which he’s trying to lure me out reminds me of someone trying to befriend a feral cat. The nerve of this guy to tell me what to do afterward brought me to this place. And by this place, I mean Waynard High. THE TRAITOR! I try to leer at him, but from where I am hiding, it’s a little difficult. After all, I am in a crouching position while Xander is standing outside and waiting for me at the door of the van. He stands there looking confused as hell and probably wondering what’s up with my behavior. “Don’t try to tell me what to do after bringing me to this place.” I hiss and hide in the shadows when I am briefly exposed to sunlight. “You sound mad.” “That’s because I am mad.” “Why are you so mad when I just brought you to school, which, as I am to remind you, you’re a student of?”“Let me ask you thi
“Who died and made my locker the tomb?!” “Hey,” Xander says, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m sure that you are aware that it is not the point of me showing you this. You can read the message, right?” Of course, I can read. And just reading the notes pasted on my locker is already letting me realize the reason why he wanted to show me this. ‘Hailey, we miss you.’ ‘Miss Hailey, please come back.’ ‘We need our peacekeeper.’ ‘Thank you for saving me.’ ‘I’ve never been bullied again thanks to you.’ ‘Felisha is cool, but Hailey May Collins will always be cooler!’ These are, no doubt, words of encouragement from the students. I know because there’s no way that Xander and the others have done this. They all have wonderful penmanship, but the ones scribbled on post it notes on my lockers all have horrible writing—not that I am judging them for that. It’s just an honest observation. My heart feels lighter, for some reason, the more I read the messages. I headed over to my locker
Maybe I was in over my head when I kind of made that promise to Xander. And by that, I mean returning to Waynard High. Standing before the gates of Waynard High with my hoodie covering my face is probably the only thing that’s keeping me from running back home and screaming in my pillow. I don’t even remember what drove me to get out of bed in the first place. “Hailey, is that you?” If I did not realize who it was that called my name, I might just bolt right then and there. When I turn around, Sandy is there, her eyes bright with happiness and anticipation. “H-Hey, would you mind keeping it down—” “It’s YOU!” Sandy screams gleefully before her face starts to look furious, for some reason. She starts to grab me by the shoulder and shake me violently, which surprises me that she has this much strength in her upper body. “HAILEY MAY COLLINS, HOW DARE YOU KEEP IGNORING MY CALLS!?” Ah. And there it is. The unwanted attention that I am so hoping to avoid. All of the nearby students l
I feel like I have a bodyguard—no, a guard dog would be a more suitable description of Xander. I guess I am grateful that he is concerned about me and the fact that I am still a little uncomfortable with people talking to me, but that’s just for the people who I am not close with! He almost didn’t let Romeo talk to me the moment we got to class. “If you hadn’t convinced him to let me talk to you, I might have called him an ingrate.” Romeo mutters while we both watch Xander glare and block the school press from taking any pictures of me or getting an interview. “Sorry about that.” I don’t know why I apologized, but somehow, I just feel like it is appropriate. “By the way, how are you doing?” It’s a very late question considering the amount of time that passed. I feel like a terrible friend because I didn’t even manage to consider what the situation had caused him. “Pretty great!” He smiles, which is baffling considering that the scandal might have affected his career. My bewild
I just got back to school and thought I’d missed it, but of course, that was me being delusional. I mean, really, who would miss school when you have to catch up on quizzes and exams?! NOT ME! “Sheen, you’re beginning to doze off.” Sandy looks at him with her hands on her hips, looking at Sheen sprawled on the couch. “He was probably gaming all night with his character dressed in a banana costume.” I can’t help but make a comment as I look up from the study material that Xander has created for me. I can’t help but snicker silently. Sheen catches me laughing and immediately sits up and points an accusing finger at me. “It was YOU, wasn’t it?! You were the person who kept shooting at me in that online shooting game!” Oops. Maybe I smiled too much, which gave it away. For the record, it wasn’t my fault that he was an easy target in the game. Who the hell wears a banana costume to a shooting game anyway!? It’s like they are either flexing that they spent money in that game or they