Thursday, January 24

Jason was lecturing us about the history of mafias and gang formations. He explained to the class that it was just as important as political history. It was part of literature and culture dating back to the late eighteenth century.

Mafias, as Jason explained, were coined by the Italians during the rise of various syndicates and organized crimes in Sicily. Though over the years, the term had evolved in meaning, which of course could mean various things like a “crook” for example or it can also describe someone with a cocky or "swagger" type of persona.

The way he explained it seemed like he was an expert at it and I can't help but listen to his every word. The way his passion gushed as he articulated every information, it was the closest thing we had in rebelling against the school curriculum... nothing bad for trailing off-topic right?

I wouldn't judge him though, Jason loved the sense of action since we were young, and I'm surprised he became a teacher than a spy/private investigator specializing justice and criminology like he always dreamed and boast about.

Nevertheless, being a teacher was alright too... he gets to be right in front of me and take me on wild reveries during boring class days. Seeing him just makes my day.

I, on the other hand, wanted to be a teacher - an art teacher to be exact - when I was young and now seeing my handsome best friend teach in front of me, makes me want to become a teacher even more.

Jason loves taking care of kids which is another reason he was good at this profession, he loved hands-on activities that let us exercise our imagination. He also acted as if he wasn't a teacher at all.

He was more of everyone's big brother than a boring merciless high school teacher, everyone loved him for that and most are buddies with him. It was good to have friends too, but seeing him treat them even closer than he is to me sometimes makes me envy them since I've known him longer yet he'd rather keep our 'unknown' relationship a secret.

Speaking of Jason, he’s been ignoring me after the BMI incident. I swear I don't get men at all, first, they flirt with you giving you signs like they are interested and the next moment they are distant as if nothing happened! Not to mention he wasn't as sweet as he used to be.

I hated it.

I understand that we have to be professional but not stopping by or even calling? That was totally out of the question.

Maybe I was overthinking things, but then again I lost some communication with the Sean family after aunt left for a vacation somewhere out of state.

Mom came back a few days ago still mourning over my father's death. At the time I need Jason the most, that's when he wasn't with me.

He didn't keep his promise.

Today, they'll bury dad's body at the memorial so I had to leave early. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse not to stay and witness all the awkward silences being alone with Jason, but faith wasn't on my side today.

As I was shoving my books in my bag and hurried out the door, he just needed to take a step from his desk to block my path (curse him and his long legs and strides) without a single consideration of my feelings… I mean plans.

"Hey kiddo got a minute?" he caught my wrist, fingers laced with mesmerizing warmth. How could I fight back, moreover fight off these stupid tears threatening to fall into a large swimming pool in front of him?

"Sorry Mr. Sean I gotta go,” I say averting my gaze, like my former chemistry professor says, if you don’t want to attract someone, don’t make eye contact.

“Dad’s being buried today, so I'm in a pinch."

"It would be really quick," he replied matching my hurried tone. "Just need to mail these SAT scores before the post office closes, if you could just drop these to the library it would be a total lifesaver"

His grip on my hand loosened, and he stepped aside to create some distance between us, "then after I could drop you back home,” and added, “I do want to pay my respects to uncle..."

Petty for him to say that, after ignoring me the whole time he does this to me?

Before I could even refuse, he disappears before my eyes. If I were in a bad mood I'd call him an inconsiderate bastard, but that'll be so unlike me.

I began stacking the books, out of frustration even slamming it against one another, and suddenly a breezy feeling kicked in, the hairs on my arms and neck stood on high alert as if they sensed that something was not right, that something was watching me.

That I wasn’t alone.

"Need some help?" a masculine voice called out, it had that cool-singsong ring to it. A little too sudden that my heart leaped out of my chest by the sudden gesture.

Slowly tilting my head to the side, I caught sight of a hazy figure leaning against the door frame.

I recognized that sing-song as Brett’s, who, stripped his blazer and stood strikingly tall in a wrinkled dress shirt. My heartbeat steadied, glad it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary like a ghost… or a murderer.

"Geez Prez, you gave me a scare..."

"Please just call me Brett..." he insisted, flashing me one of his famous wicked smiles. He strolled in stopping by the pile of books standing just as tall as I was.

"It's unusual seeing you hereafter class Paige." He chimed

"Oh uhm I guess we are thinking the same thing, I never knew the student council president is still here considering a person like you must be tired and busy with all the council stuff..."

God what am I saying? Of course, he'd be staying late to fix council stuff, Paige you're such an idiot.

"Those books look heavy, mind if I lend you a hand?"

"No it’s okay, I think I can handle..." I lied trying not to burden him but in reality, I was happy to see him, the heavens must have heard my whining. My expression wasn't convincing though.

"Are you sure, those books look really heavy, it’s unhealthy for girls to carry something heavy, you won't grow taller that way." He joked nudging me.

So he's calling me short?! I'm trying to lay off on my coffee, try to get at least 9 hours of sleep, jump on new year's eve hoping I'd grow an inch and here he is insulting a short kid? Never call a girl short!

Okay, he didn't say it directly, but he meant to say it! I can't believe I was having a fit over nothing… I'm so embarrassing.

My eyelid twitched, even as my resting face (or lips) was naturally a thin line, I had to twist them into a smile just to not scare him off, at least not yet, considering I really needed his help.

"Uhm, look uhm... Pres...” I say heaving the stacks in one bundle in front of me, “I… uhm… can manage."

"Brett." He corrected, inching closer, sticking his hands out "I wouldn't be a good friend if I left you doing all the hard stuff by yourself, here pass some of them over..." our fingers brushed, having me drop the books ever so clumsily. Stupid Paige. Stupid. Stupid.

"See, I told you they are heavy..." he scolded bending down to help me pick them up, for a moment there I thought he was growing irritable with my stubbornness, but then again I could have been imagining things.

As we gathered the tattered textbooks into one pile, we even out our share of books. I spotted a book that was somehow the lone wolf out of the stack and reached for it.

The next thing I knew, our fingers landed at the same time at the book. Brett chuckled. “You like Pileggi?”

“Nah,” I pulled my hand back, hiding a blush I didn’t know where it came from or even why. Probably because his fingers were cold to the touch, and my body was having a chemical reaction. You know the differences in body temperature?

Okay, who am I kidding? What are the odds of you being alone with someone everyone considers as the hottest person on campus? I mean I don’t see it, but I wasn’t blind by the fact that he did look kind of attractive - I am an artist after all - I could sketch all the perfect proportions of his features.

The arcs of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the sharp chisel of his jaw, the slant of his eyes… what I mean to say is… well, you get my point. If you touch the opposite sex’s hands then you would probably blush too, okay? Case closed.

“I just remembered Mr. Sean talking about this book”

“So you dig mafia books huh?”

“Not really” I began, skimming the summary at the back of Wise Guy. If I can remember correctly, Jason mentioned that the book was based on a real story of a notorious mobster who turns into an informant. “but I just might like this one”

“I heard the movie that was based on that book was just as good, have you heard of it? Goodfellas?”

I shook my head. “Is it out already?”

“I mean it’s just as old as you are, so I guess it is?”

“Right,” I flushed feeling stupid I asked.

“But you know, I have a copy at home. I can lend it to you”

“Really?”

“Yeah no biggie,” he shrugged.

There was a long period of silence. "Well, thanks for the help..." I muttered lugging my share of books as we walked down the hallway, passing the curb and finally stopping in front of the library,

"Listen, Paige, I like -"

"Whoa there Prez, I'm not the kind of -"

He frowned, but immediately dismisses it with the same warm smile of his, "You didn't let me finish, what I mean to say is that I've seen some of your work, you have really nice drawings...”

Seen? I haven’t shown my drawing to anyone, not Angela, and especially not Jason, it would be the death of me.

“I've seen some of it during the art festival, but never got the chance to praise you..."

Oh, he meant that festival. Luckily I stash my Jason drawings somewhere else.

"I'm flattered... but I'm not the type of person who'd let others see my work my cousin Angela just stole it from my room and entered it..." I blushed, feeling embarrassed for jumping into conclusions.

Who am I kidding? He’s Brett Boyce, he can’t possibly like me right? I wonder if he already found me weird. Everyone finds me weird, well at least according to Justin and Angela.

"Do you take an art class?" He asked shifting the weight in his hands as he reached his pockets for a spare key

"I guess you can say I taught myself to doodle, it's no big deal.” When you are a loner who lives alone and parents oceans away from you, you'd get plenty of time to get to know yourself. I wanted to add but decided to omit that too.

"Are you planning on becoming an artist?"

"I'm not really sure yet, hopefully, that, or an architect."

"Wow you could build me a house someday...” when he noticed me raising a brow he added, “just kidding..."

By then the door clicked open and we both strolled in, setting the books down on the table.

He leaned his back at the counter, and like Jason, habitually caresses the edge of the counter. I didn’t know why I even noticed that or why that gestured reminded me of him, but it did. Weird right?

"It was nice talking to you Paige, I never got the chance to talk to you in class you always seemed so distant from the others, but you're actually really fun to talk to..."

"Thanks" I was mindlessly babbling, "Sorry for burdening you, you must have been busy... I think I'll shelf these books... you don't have to help me any further..."

"It's okay,” he kept on running a finger across the edge of the counter. I don’t know why I was paying attention to that too, but I did.

“I have nothing to do anyway, and besides, I love to help I'll just lock the back door and help you out so we can both finish faster"

"You really are nice..."

He chuckled, seemingly tucking a hand behind his head. "I'm really not that nice...”

His phone rang, heavy metal beats comically growing louder by the second. Fumbling to take the call he said, “I'll be back real quick okay?" and left.

He really is nice I guess I can get used to him. Meeting him was a whole new experience for me, but I'm not sure I can handle his pop star-like reputation, was it really okay to just be his friend in the shadows? Was he friends with everyone and I could be just one of those girls he was really nice too, to boost his reputation? I don’t know. We’ll just have to see how everything plays out.

I continued to stack the books, occasionally thinking of how annoyed I was of Jason, and then a little annoyed that Brett hadn’t returned as promised.

I began to lose all hope and made a resolve that he had abandoned me as the pile found themselves on their respective shelves. I’ve cleared away most of the books when I caught of something moving from one of the aisles.

“Hello?” I called out, skimming through each aisle, “Is anyone there?”

By the time I was on the fourth aisle, a book fell. I looked around, but no one was there. Slowly I reached for it, realizing it was the same book from earlier. You gotta be kidding me.

“This is so not funny Brett!” I yelled crossing my arms.

But there was nothing, no chuckles, no distant footsteps, or silent breathing.

“Quit it, you jerk!” I yelled again as another book fell, this time from another shelf.

Now imagine this. If there are five aisles lined with bookshelves, each with a good amount of space between them, wooden bookshelves that were parallel to one another and you can see through the spaces behind them. If someone had toppled them over, you would easily see a person. Now if I were in aisle four between five and three, there’s no way I can miss a body moving between either one.

Just a couple of feet from where Wiseguy fell, another book fell from the opposite shelf. I didn’t dare pick the book up, and fled from the scene, screaming my lungs out.

My feet didn’t bring me too far. Just outside the library, branching out from the hall you could see a door-less entrance that led to the inner veranda. This veranda was like the heart of the school and was commonly used as a shortcut when the hallways were often clogged and buzzing.

I trusted my gut, thinking maybe I’d find Brett there, and to my surprise, I did, his back facing me as his phone over his ear. From his tone of voice, I concluded he was probably angry about something, which was surprising because the guy didn’t seem the type to be easily pressed. It was understandable, we are all human here. We have our good days and bad days. There are days when we are just too stressed that we just break.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I decided to stick out for a while, plainly observing him from the sidelines instead of just minding my own business.

Ever heard of curiosity killed the cat? Despite the nine lives they had, no matter how many times they endanger their lives out of curiosity, in the end, death pays the price for being too curious.

Maybe sticking around was stupid on my part, I should have backed away, and minded my own business like any sane person would, in fact, I shouldn't have let him help me despite his persistence. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten into what I would believe as a mess.