“...Tess? Are you being serious?”
“Yeah... what’s the issue?”
“So you don't know?”
“No, what’s that?”
“Okay, let me tell you....”
What have I learnt about being in the right place at the right time? It's that the narrative can change to something not quite positive depending on what you see or hear. I don’t know why I left the dorm that day to go to the school’s class block. I guess it was to read but I’m not exactly sure. What I’m sure of however, is that I was just outside the class and I was privy to information about me that I wasn’t supposed to hear.
I didn’t know what to do with the information I just heard so I walked silently back to my dormitory, My planned activity, momentarily forgotten. Or at least, it didn’t matter much anymore. I knew I had to tell someone cause it felt like I was about to combust. But when I got to the room, the friend I intended to tell, Peace, ran to me.
“Hey, Peace, I just heard some-”
“Oh thank goodness you’re here, Tess. You wouldn’t believe what just happened.” My friend leapt from the bed to hug me, her cheeks streaked with tears. Her woeful expression made me forget about the distasteful piece of info I’d just heard and I was promptly by her side.
“James is breaking up with me. Says he doesn’t have it in his heart to love me anymore.” Peace bursted into tears after that last line and as I comforted her, my ordeal filtered into my mind.
“....She does this thing where she messes with guys’ emotions. Being all nice and making them believe there’s something. Toying with them and giving them hope, only to dash them when she felt like it....”
Was I like that? Their point of view in my understanding stemmed from the fact that whatever this thing they claimed I did was done maliciously, but how can you do something maliciously when you had no idea of it? It kind of got me angry the more I thought about it because I’d be nothing short of polite to anyone who approached me, male or female. I kind of regretted not confronting the guy then. But what was the use? My friend's sobs jolted me from my reverie so I abandoned my train of thought and focused on my heartbroken friend.
The next day, while organising my books. Someone passed a note to me and pointed to who the message was from. I was still in a sour mood from yesterday’s discovery so I unconsciously glared at the direction of the sender of the note even as I opened it.
Can I talk to you after school, please?
It was the guy from yesterday. The one that had been saying those malicious things about me. I didn’t see his face then but I’d been his classmate for four years, so I knew his voice anywhere. My first impulse was to tear the paper to shreds since I knew he was watching me, but from the corner of my eye, I realized that a lot of people had seen the note exchange and were waiting for my reaction as a means of deciphering what was in the note. High school was always drama waiting to happen, but I didn’t plan on indulging them. Not today, Satan. So I resisted the urge and folded the paper into my notebook instead and clutched said notebook tightly in my hands.
After school, I sat calmly in my seat, waiting for him to repeat those terrible words from yesterday. He came and looked at me with a smile.
“How are you doing, T?”
What was this guy’s deal anyway? “Please I have a lot to do. What’s the problem?”
The stupid smile vanished and he suddenly looked unsure. “I came to tell you that I like you, Tess. I’ve done that for a long time. And I really want you to be mine. What do you say?”
It was one of the most bizarre statements I’d ever heard, which is why, even after several years, I could never forget it. Was this some comedy skit? How could the same person who dissuaded another person, by saying such hurtful things, be the one making his intentions known? His next words were,
“I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve. Please don’t say no. It took a lot of courage to tell you this.”
If there’s one thing about high school that I realized soon after I left, is the level of emotional blackmail that goes on there. It was horrendous. Heat prickled on my skin, my palms were clammy and I could already feel the telltale signs of an approaching headache. The young boy had to be kidding me. Who did that?
“I’m sorry but I’ll have to respectfully decline.”
I’d never said those words to anyone that had asked me out before. I was usually more concerned about the courage it must have taken so I was always against anything that would hurt their feelings badly. But I realized I was wrong for that and maybe that’s why the rumours started in the first place. So walking out that day was a relief. I’d finally learnt how to just say no.
