Chapter Two – A Date Someday
“Uhm, Avery….?” he trails off with hesitance nudging his tone.
“---I’m not saying you’re weird, but why are you covering your entire face with the hood of your jacket?”
Right. Very obvious Tom. I sucked the air between my teeth, grabbing the edge of my hood and lowered it further, making me look down on the ground with the little seep of hole I could manage.
After a couple of seconds of trying to think for an explanation, I replied. “I’m allergic to the sun.”
Great excuse Avery. You’re surely going to win the best actress award.
“Right. So you’re a vampire now?” he clicks his tongue, replying in a skeptical manner. I could make out footsteps nearing close and with little to no idea of what was going on with the hood covering my face, I take a step back.
“It’s a fashion style, idiot. This is trending nowadays,” I added, feeling myself breaking out of sweat. I forgot to mention it was scorching hot outside and wearing a jacket was basically asking to burn myself.
“You don’t like trendy things, Avery,” he pointed out like it was straight obvious.
“Right. Well, I’m different now,” I lied through my teeth.
I could hear him take an audible sigh, and then he grumbles. “Avery, take that hood of your face.”
“No,” I answered firmly, trying to be perceptive of the surroundings around me. I prepare myself, attacking when he tries to threaten my comfort space.
“You’re giving me no other choice,” he says on the other end. Then footsteps neared closer until I could feel it stand right in front of me.
I close my eyes, calming my nerves and when I flickered them open, I take a step forward and attempt to dash it off with every ounce of speed in my entire life. Was what I planned. But in reality, the moment I made the move to try and run away, I lost my footing, not to mention I couldn’t see anywhere so knowing where I was, was futile.
I let out a temporary squeal, preparing for the worst for when I slip and crack my head on the floor below the small stairs on the front porch.
But that also didn’t happen. Tom managed to grab ahold of my shoulders before my body would come tumbling and meet the ground.
I stayed frozen, my body slightly slanted with my foot extended and half of my torso almost in a sitting position. I composed myself, trying to stand up straight with my face still buried by my hood.
I got myself together and Tom removes his hold off my shoulders. I open my mouth to try and say what would mean a word of gratitude—but he snatches my hood and with me having no time to process, he successfully pulls the hood up and fling it to my back.
I squint my eyes, trying to make out of things due to the darkness I was in. I could feel the front of my hair damp and my skin started to sweat. I look up and my cheeks flushed red when I see him.
He pursed his lips. “Geez Avery. You could’ve tripped and suffered from a head injury or something.”
“—and what’s the deal with your face and that hood? Do you hate seeing my face that you hide yourself?”
Not exactly. I look away, shifting my gaze onto the stoned pathway, a light blush still present on my ears. It’s rather complicated—especially when you’re the reason I’m like this.
I didn’t ask for this okay? But just seeing your face makes me look away and there’s this like constipated feeling in my stomach. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m tired of seeing your face.
“Avery, can you stop looking at the grass?” he murmurs growing annoyed, tapping his foot to a fast pace.
I blink, then grumbled. “What?”
“Like I said, I’m asking what’s with you and acting weird all of a sudden?”
“I’m not acting weird,” I feign ignorance, my hands unravelling to my back to try and pull over my hood when Tom lightly smacks my hands off.
“Hey!” I scowled.
“Avery!” he screeches.
I paused, then fling my hand to my sides in compliance, still not looking at him. He takes a deep breath, probably calming his temper before muttering in a soft tone. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault,” I mutter, rubbing the sleeves of my jacket. “---for pushing your buttons.”
I knew that he had anger issues and he’s really good at hiding it, but I guess I pushed him to a corner. Great work, Avery. Now Tom’s angry at you.
He doesn’t reply. I awkwardly shift around my stance, then I take a step closer and without trying to get my emotions ahead of me, I looked at him in the eye.
It was too intense. The way olive eyes were filled with some sort of anger and I couldn’t take it. I hate myself right now. Stop it. Stop being this weird, teenage girl.
“Sorry I made you angry, okay?” I started, gripping onto my jacket with my eyes trying not to look away. Calm down, okay?
I close my eyes, thinking of different things like that horror movie I watched just a day ago, or when I made progress when I cooked a fried egg and it didn’t look as burnt as it used to be. Or when Lance was rejected by Emily and how I’m completely overreacting right now.
“I’m fine now,” I added, finally calming my feelings and my haywire feelings in check.
“I just…didn’t want people to see me,” I was lying but it was also half-true.
He sighs, rubbing the flesh between his eyes and then the anger swirling in those eyes of his vanished.
His shoulders also start to calm down. “Okay. It’s just that I was worried okay? What if you really tripped? I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say under my breath. Then I reluctantly asked. “----you’re not angry at me anymore?”
“How can I even stay mad at you?” he answered and then grabs my arm without him at least giving a heads up. His touch pricked my skin and it felt warm.
I shake my head, ignoring useless thoughts and we started walking along the side walk. Is this what it feels to like a guy? It’s a nuisance.
Anyway, I had a bag slung around me since it had the amount of money and the list of items we were going to buy. We were also going buy some grocery and re-fill our stock of food.
I was fine with doing this all alone. After all, I’ve been the one buying and shopping for groceries and yet my mother insisted anyway. It’s something about how I can’t probably carry everything and that I’m ‘mahina’---which is totally a lie. I’m plenty strong myself.
In the end, Tom, being the opportunist, took the bait and here we are, going towards the route to the mall under the hot beaming weather where your cold ice cream would melt within seconds.
“Did you have fun during the school festival, Avery?” Tom says aloud, starting up a conversation to probably make up for earlier.
“It was a so-so,” I responded, staring at the roads with some cars passing by the speed of light. “---I kind of realized people have their own problems too and probably just needed someone to listen.”
“Wha---”
“Good job,” he pats my hair. I glanced upwards to see him smiling, dimples in full view and eyes half closed. “---I’m proud of you.”
“What am I? Your dog?” I scoffed lightly, but nevertheless a faint smile appeared on my lips.
Tch. You sure are sly, Tom.
. . .
“I told you I’m not putting it on!” I scowled, looking at him in disdain while he only chuckled, the glasses still on his hand.
“Come on.”
We were supposed to go to the groceries and head home. Take note: were. Look where that ended up? An hour later we were inside the department store. Tom decided he wanted to have some fun before heading home and what’s the best way but going to the store?
Right. Now I’m tired.
“You’re such a party pooper, Avery,” he pouts, looking at me.
“I told you. It’s not funny, okay?” I grumbled, repeating myself for the fifth time. He wants me to wear those googly-eyed glasses. If anything, that’s just stupid---well that’s its entire purpose.
“Avery--”
“Fine!” I screeched, snatching the glasses off his hands, and placed it on my eyes. As expected, it was stupid. I looked like a dumbass. “—you’re happy now?”
He nods, chuckling. “Yeah. That totally looks good on you.”
“Excuse me?” I raised a brow, quite offended. “---you’re meaning to say I look like a clown huh?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Well, how about you---” my eyes roamed around the aisle of the weird and goofy accessories then found a wig that oh just so reminds everyone of despair.
I went there and Tom mutters a few words of confusion but I brush him off, grabbing the wig from the mannequin and arrived beside him. I tip-toed, shoving the hair onto his hair and stifled a snicker. “Yeah, looks perfect.”
He peers over the body mirror and sees the hairstyle I placed on his head. He breaks into a grin, a mischievous glint on his eyes. Something that’s very rare.
He clears his throat, then proceeds to imitate a shrieky girl who sounded like she scratched her tone that resembles fork scratching the chalk board’s surface. “I want to speak to your manager!”
I lightly chuckle, appreciating his weird acting. He seems to be so into it that he points finger at my direction and purses his lips with the Karen wig still on top of his head. “Excuse me young lady? Are you laughing at me right now?”
I snorted. He scoffs. “How rude! You children of this generation are little gremlins, rude spawn of Satans!”
“Okay stop now,” I smirk. “—people are staring.”
“Well, that’s cause I’m so entitled and important,” he sort of flips his wig like a diva.
Disclaimer : I apologize to people named ‘Karen’. I don’t mean in any way to offend you.
. . .
“What’s next to the shopping list, Ms. Summers?” Tom entertained, pushing the cart with his body leaning onto the handle.
I glanced at my list---rather my mom’s list and the items I’ve crossed out with a pen I shoved under my small bag.
“Rice,” I mused.
“You guys sure do like rice,” he commented, following my trail as I glanced at the poster above where the rice section would belong.
“It’s a Filipino culture,” I replied, taking a turn to the right and finally the sacks of rice were in view. I head forward and Tom follows pursuit just right beside me.
“So you eat rice for every meal?” he inquired, stepping off the cart and bent down, getting the half sack of rice for me.
“Thanks.”
He nods, bending down and placed the sack of rice below the cart. I answered his question, patting off my hands. “Yeah. For every meal we eat rice.”
“Even with pancakes?” he looked at me confused; eyes slightly widen dramatically.
“Obviously not,” I scrunched my nose, just the thought makes me gag. “---that’s such a weird combination. Stop asking, will you? We’re going to be stuck here forever.”
He resigns and I look at the one last remaining item off the list. “Lastly, we need, soy sauce.”
“Ooh, can we get a chocolate?” he chimes in, an enthusiastic look was plastered on his face. He looks like a kid who’s begging his mother for a candy bar. Typical Tom.
“Sure, whatever,” I shrug and he grins, murmuring a silent yes to himself before turning the cart around and towards the chocolate aisle.
“The soy sauce,” I reminded him.
“That can wait later,” he brushed me off, intently focus on picking a single chocolate. I mean okay, the guy has a sweet tooth, but he sounds as if he’s been deprived from sweets.
I shake my head, not bothering to even find answers to questions I won’t ever know.
I stood there with arms crossed as Tom immediately halts to the chocolates aisle and starts roaming around the shelves like a kid who got Hot Wheels for Christmas.
He comes back to me not more than a minute with two types of chocolate. I raised a brow.
“Should I buy Joya or Herheys?” he tilts his head, asking for my own opinion.
“Tom,” I trailed off, staring at the chocolates on his hold. “---I don’t really like chocolate that much so just pick what you want.”
“That’s the problem; it’s too hard,” he crosses his brows, pondering in deep thought with eyes darting holes on the chocolate bars.
I sigh, tapping my foot impatiently. “They’re just chocolates.”
He looks at me, an offended look on his face was evident. “That’s totally wrong Avery! The taste of the Herheys is more of that rich-----”
He continues to ramble with his extreme enthusiasm over chocolates while I yawn, starting to feel drowsiness come over me. I woke up early for this.
“Okay Tom,” I finally spoke up. “—let’s just buy the two, get the soy sauce and head home.”
His eyes lit up. “Really? You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I wave him off with a hand. “----you’re going to take forever.”
He chuckles, putting the chocolates on the cart with a satisfied look on his face. Then he reverts his gaze to me. “Let’s go and get that soy sauce then.”
. . .
“Today was fun,” Tom mutters as we finally head home with two heavy plastic bags in tow.
He offered to hold them because it was heavy and I didn’t want that just because I was a girl. I mean he probably thinks it’s so heavy for me and that I’m fragile, but that’s all the more for me to refuse.
Instead, we both compromised with both of us holding each handle of the heavy plastic bag and with Tom’s other free hand another plastic bag.
“Let’s go on another shopping, Avery,” he smiles, glancing over me.
The sun was setting and the once bright blue clouds turned to a mixture of red and orange. It was pretty.
“You mean a date?” I suddenly blurted out, almost zoning out by the peace radiating inside me.
Then I paused, making the plastic bag we both held shook in retract. My cheeks turned red involuntarily with the blunder I just made myself.
“That’s not what I mean! Uh I mean----”
“Yea,” he smiles at me. For some reason, the glare of the sunset makes him look like a piece of painting.
“What?” I murmured.
“A date. Someday,” he repeated with conviction.
I blinked, then I opened my mouth.
“In your dreams,” I rolled my eyes, my cheeks still reddened while he chuckles at me.
Stupid.