Part One is here.
He let me board the jeepney ahead of him. He was always a gentleman… or tried to be, at least. Maybe it’s because he needed to keep up his image of being the good guy. I’m not sure anymore.
I was fishing for my coin purse out of my bag when he took out a twenty and paid for the both of us.
“No, it’s fine. You don’t have to.” My voice sounded a bit raspy, I didn’t realize my throat had dried up.
He gave a small smile. “It’s fine.”
We were silent for what felt like eternity. I was usually the one in charge of conversation. Now, why is it that every topic I think of sounds stupid? What exactly do you say to someone you haven’t spoken to for a long time?
In the silence, I observed him out of the corner of my eye. He looked so different and the same all at the same time. A bit more rugged on the face but still the same eyes that always looked deep in thought. Or was that just me trying to look for the person I knew? For all I know, he could be thinking about taking a dump right away when he gets home.
Not everything is as dramatic as it is in your head. I reprimanded myself.
His eyes were fixed on the road, the headlights from the cars stuck in traffic reflected in his eyes. He was probably oblivious to the awkward silence.
He turned to me and chuckled. “Fuck. This is awkward isn’t it?”
I was a second too late in coming up with a witty comeback. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“I was just going to buy some stuff.” I sound so stupid. Some stuff. Oh my god, just jump off this vehicle and decorate the road with your blood.
He looked out to the busy road again. “Let’s get dinner.”
My heart raced, I felt the blood rush to my face and I’m pretty sure my eyes widened to the size of plates. For a split second, my brain went into overdrive, conjuring up the worst scenarios on how this night would end. “I don’t think–”
His eyes met mine and the argument I was still formulating fell silent on my lips. His eyes were pleading, as if to say, “Just do this for me. Please.”
I have to go to class! I already missed the last two meetings!
He ran his hands through his hair and snorted derisively. I thought your professor didn’t take attendance?
I pursed my lips. Shit. I did. Yes, but…
Come on. He took my hands and gave it a little squeeze. His eyes bore in to mine. Just stay here. We’ll play cards and I can tell you how sad my life is.
I discreetly pulled my hands away and then pretended to fix my ponytail, just to mask the action. You’re being too dramatic.
He put his head down on the table. I hate my life. I’m such an asshole.
Yeah, you are. You’re making me late for my class.
He lift his head up. Hey.
I took out my phone and texted my classmate I won’t be going to class. Again.
Writing 101, Day Thirteen: Serial Killer II Earlier in the course, you wrote about losing something. Today, write about finding something. For your twist, view day four’s post and today’s post as installments in a series.
Part One is here.
Was it too long? Too boring? I suck at writing dialogues. 😦 Also, eyes are a big motif for this post. LOL