The Hottie and the Fatty

by Segunda L.

  “Number 4, Kippling, fifth foul!”

  What the? That was my fifth foul?

  “Get off my god damned court Kippling!” Coach yelled again with his megaphone.

  Damn. I wasn’t even paying enough attention to the number of fouls I got.

  The ball was still in my hands, I successfully grabbed if from the opposing team, but I guess I wasn’t that successful since coach called it a foul. Unwillingly, I passed the ball to Frank who was my teammate for this practice game.

  He received it effortlessly. “Jared, how are the fingers?” He asked, biting his fingers as he said so, no doubt it was his attempt at trying to replay the scene of Samara biting me. I gave him the finger as a proof that they were still in good condition.

  “Aaah!” A high pitch scream was his answer. Another attempt to replay the way I screamed earlier. The others caught up with Frank and laughed at his silly act.

  “Idiot.” I mumbled.

  “Oh, come on man, you gotta admit that was funny.” He said while holding his stomach from laughing.

  If another person was in that kind of situation, I’d probably be doing worse than what Frank was doing right now. Only it wasn’t someone else, it was me and I was not in a habit of laughing at myself. But coming from Franks’s perspective, I understood why he was acting like a jerk about it because that was exactly what I would do if it was someone else.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you can.” I shrugged.

  He came to me, wrapped his arms around my shoulders and said, “So, are we cool?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I offered my hand for our secret handshake thing. Boys didn’t need words, it was all about actions. Catcalls and whistles soon followed, it came from the rest of the guys of course.

  “Bromance!” TJ yelled which was answered with another round of laughter.

  Coach blew his whistle again, breaking up the commotion. “Kippling, run fifteen laps!”

  Frank released me from his grip. He said, “Get your head on the game, man, we need you to win.”

  My teammates were counting on me, Coach had high hopes for me and I let them down today. This wasn’t the real game yet, but it was expected of me to be in my best all the time. Fifteen laps huh? For the disappointment I caused them today, I accepted my punishment whole heartedly. Coach could be ruthless but he knew what was best for the team. I prepared my legs for the exercise, stretching a bit, I was about to run when coach yelled again.

  “Not in the court Kippling. In the oval!”

  Oval? That was too much! He was kicking me out of the court!

  I heard some “oooh” from the guys.

  The old man was picking on me. Forget I said he knows what was best for the team. I always had the feeling that he saw himself in me. He was probably just envious of my rich and thick hair because he was already bald!

  “In the oval, Kippling!” He whistled and got the game started again.

  “Sorry, pal.” I heard Frank said as he went back to the game.

  I had no choice but to leave the court. He ruled the court after all. But I was not an idiot as to follow his orders. He might own the court but not the oval. Instead of running as he said so, I decided to just take a break. My shirt was drenched in sweat, I was thirsty and hungry. There were snacks and drinks in the locker room but that would mean I have to go back to the gym, not an option at all.

  Dining hall food was my last resort, although I hated it, I shouldn’t be choosy right now.

  Hate.

  I hate you.

  Samara’s words hit me again like an unexpected storm. I had been pushing the memory out of my brain, to no success of course, by the obvious fact I got five fouls in one game. My heart was still in pieces, and the funny fact was I didn’t know why. Maybe I was developing a small crush on her? That was probably it. Because of the coincidence of her being Mr. Reyn’s daughter and the deal with dad, I had spent too much time thinking about her. Unconsciously, I’d been observing her which ended with me becoming more and more curious about her. And she didn’t back away from my bullshits, she fought me head on with her chubby chin held up high.

  And I find that a turn on somehow.

  She’s in love with TJ.

  I reminded myself. It was not good to keep nursing my crush on her, I should stop while I was not in too deep yet. If having a crush on her already hurts this bad, then I don’t know how it would be if it got more than that but I was sure it would mess up with my plan on getting the Mercedes-Benz.

  Stay focused Jared. Look straight ahead on the prize.

  I arrived at this conclusion when I reached the dining hall. They were selling salads, sandwiches and some gooey looking thing that I was not sure if it was edible. To be safe, I chose the sandwich since it looked the most familiar to me.

  A bright idea popped into my brain.

  “Two sandwich for me and two cokes.” I ordered.

  ~*~*~

  “Hey, wake up.” I shook her shoulders to wake her from her slumber. The princess was sleeping peacefully under a tree. She was in the farthest part of the school ground, I almost thought she wasn’t in school at all.

  “Rise and shine Samara.”

  She smacked my hands away.

  Even in sleep she does that?

  “Wake up, I brought you food.”

  At the mention of food, she straightened up and looked wide awake. She kept on blinking while looking at the sandwich and coke on the table. I figured she must be hungry from the way she seemed so weak earlier.

  Finally she said, “Is this a dream?”

  “No. The sandwich won’t disappear no matter how many times you blink.”

  “I’m not talking about that. You brought me food?” Her eyebrows knit in confusion.

  “Yeah.” Duh?

  “Why?”

  “Take it as a peace offering.” I answered honestly.

  She eyed the sandwich suspiciously. “It’s not poisoned, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  Just how evil does she think I am?

  “But why?”

  “I already answered that question. But if you really wanna know, it doesn’t feel good to be hated.”

  “It seems suspicious.”

  “The sandwich? Look I’ll take a bite first if you still believe it’s poisoned.” I offered.

  “I won’t eat it all if you got your spit on it.”

  “Fine. I’ll just leave it here. It’s up to you to eat it or not.” I said, my patience running short.

  After a minute of apprehension, she finally touched the sandwich, removed the wrapper and took a tiny bite from it. Maybe she was really hungry. I felt like a witch who offered Snow White a poisoned apple.

  “I poisoned it.” I said after she swallowed.

  Her eyes almost fall off from her sockets.

  “Kidding.” I managed to say, holding my laughter inside. “Truce?”

  “Maybe?” She answered.

  That was a good enough answer for me. At least she was considering. Operation Share a Snack with Fatty was a success. I followed Coach’s orders of fifteen laps grinning like an idiot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jared

  All I wanted to do when I finally arrived home was to sprawl on my bed and sleep like a log. So much has happened today. I was tired, emotionally and physically. It was one hell of a roller coaster ride of emotions thrown together with strenuous exercise. All of this because of one source.

  After finishing my fifteen laps in the oval, I went back to the gym with a grin on my face making it seem like the jog was a breeze. I was in a good mood so I was able to do it in Olympic record. But coach took it as a cue that I still had lots of energy and gave me another ten rounds. That was when I decided to wing it. I was a basketball player, not a god damned runner. I only did another five rounds but even that was already exhausting.

  “Hey,” Kiana greeted with a smile on her face as she saw me enter the living room, “you look beat.” She said whe
n she took in my appearance. Oh wow, did I look that bad?

  “Tough day.” I explained and went upstairs to my bedroom. I dropped my bag on the floor, took off my shoes then stripped my shirt. As soon as my head hit the pillow, my mind drifted off to Dreamland.

  ~*~*~

  Someone knocking on the door stirred me from my sleep. And I had a hunch it was Kiana. As usual, I ignored her and waited until she got tired of knocking and leave me alone. But as usual she didn’t stop knocking of course. The pounding on my door just got louder. I covered my ears with my pillow, hoping that it will drown the noise. It did the trick, my eyes were about to shut and sleep was coming back to me.

  “Jared, open up son.” My father’s voice was behind the door.

  Startled by my father’s sudden visit in my room, I jolted in my bed and opened the door. He was still wearing his button up long sleeves, which meant that he just arrived from work and went straight to my room. My mind was still foggy from sleep, but I had enough sense to know why Dad was outside my door right now.

  Hell, tired that I was, my dreams were all about the events that happened today. Some good, some bad. Mostly bad.

  “Dad, sup?” Pretending to not know about his business with me seemed like a good idea. I didn’t want to start the topic, so I waited for him to open the conversation.

  He entered my room and closed the door behind him. No doubt trying to keep Kiana from hearing our discussion. “So how was it? Are you and Samara in a friendly relationship now?” Dad said, straight to the point. No small talks, just a direct approach to the subject at hand. His directness amazed me.

  My brain tried to process dad’s question. Was I friends with Samara?

  I answered, “Yes Dad. In fact we ate together today.” I wasn’t lying. We did share a snack, okay, maybe I twisted the words a bit but my dad didn’t have to know that. The part about being friends was a flat out lie. Just add that to other things that my dad didn’t have to know. I could imagine the horror on Samara’s face with the idea of being friends with me.

  Dad seemed pleased with my update. He smiled as if I just told him I aced one of my major subjects. “That’s good, keep it up.” With that, he turned his back on me and proceeded to get out of my room.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief, the Mercedes-Benz was still on track. I raced to the door and opened it for him.

  Before he got out, dad inquired, “Isn’t your championship games coming soon?”

  So now he cares about my games? He always said it was a waste of time and told me to focus on my studies instead. Nevertheless, Kiana always managed to drag him to my championship games for the past two years.

  “Yeah, it’s next month. Assuming we get into finals of course.” I said, unsure of why he bothered asking.

  “I guess we’ll be going again this year.” He probably didn’t realize it but he was indirectly saying he had no doubts that my team will get into the finals. Coming from my dad, it meant a lot.

  Wow. This day sure is something. I should probably blog about this. Not that I actually blog or owned any blogs at all, but this day deserved to be commemorated.

  “But don’t forget, you’re in school to study. That’s your priority, I don’t want to see failing marks on your resume once you apply for a job on my company.” Dad said, ruining the moment.

  I groaned. “I know that already, you told me that a thousand times. Surprisingly as it may sound, I haven’t failed yet Dad.” My father has an obsession with my grades. He checked my cards to find out about my academics. Each time, he complained that I was not trying my best and so on but he didn’t really force me to try harder. I heard him say something about Einstein being a slacker in college and almost failing a subject but still managed to become the greatest genius of all time. As to why my father was comparing me to Einstein, I had no idea.

  “I’m still surprised every time you managed to pull off a passing mark.” He admitted.

  “Dad, I get the feeling you secretly expect me to fail.” I told him with a serious face.

  Realizing that he was being a jerk of a father, he cleared his throat as if it will somehow dismiss the earlier conversation then he continued talking, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my son and you inherited my brains. Just use it more often or it’ll get rusty with all the partying and extracurricular activities you have.”

  If I followed all of my father’s advice, I’d have no social life. So I cut short what he was going to say. “Noted, Dad. Thanks for the advice.” I opened the door wider, gesturing for him to leave. He stayed there for a minute, trying to decide whether to lecture me on or not. I made it easier for him. “I gotta start working on my assignments, so spare me the talk please.” I begged.

  He relented and said, “Alright. Come down for dinner though. Kiana is almost done cooking.”

  I nodded. He went out and I locked the door. Assignments seemed to be a good alibi to escape “the talk” with my father but I had no intention of working on them at all. Instead, I turned on my computer and logged on to my Facebook.

  Forty notifications, twenty friend requests and ten messages from people I didn’t know.

  I accepted all the friend requests first then checked all the notifications. My face was tagged in pictures of different parties that I went to. Well, I had a busy social life. There were a hundred people online, I checked to see if there was anyone worth chatting with.

  My jaw dropped when I saw the name Samara Reyn on my chatbox bar.

  There was no recollection in my brain of the time I accepted Samara’s friend request. My Facebook was a whore anyway, I accepted anyone. I was sure she was the one who sent a request because I was Jared Kippling, I don’t send requests. She probably added me because of my relation to TJ. I recalled my answer to Dad’s question earlier, so I wasn’t lying at all. Samara and I are on a friendly status, in Facebook at least.

  I sent her a message.

  Jared Kippling: Hey.

  Two minutes passed but no reply.

  Jared Kippling: Snob

  I saw that she was typing something. Finally, a reaction.

  Samara Reyn: ?

  Hell. That’s all she can say.

  Jared Kippling: Watcha doing?

  Samara Reyn: none of your business

  Harsh

  Jared Kippling: Wanna play tetris?

  Samara Reyn: go bother someone else

  Jared Kippling: Pfft. you’re no fun

  Another minute passed but no reply. She was completely shutting me down. I may be the all out pursuer here but there was a limit to how much I can take. But then again I was bored. So I took out my mobile phone and uploaded her golden picture in the locker room where her body was stuck between the two lockers and her face was flushed as tomato.

  Then I tagged her.

  And all I had to do was wait.

  1…2...3

  Samara Reyn: JARED YOU JACK @*#!!!!

  Samara Reyn: TAKE THAT PHOTO OFF THE INTERNET!!

  Samara Reyn: YOU SCUM@#&!!!!

  I let her wait for another minute before I replied.

  Jared Kippling: don’t wanna

  Samara Reyn: DELETE IT NOW!!

  Samara Reyn: YOU PIECE OF SH#@%!!!

  Jared Kippling: What? I’m a piece of SH- number sign- at- percent- exclamation point-exclamation point- exclamation point?

  Jared Kippling: I don’t speak codes -_-

  Samara Reyn: I SWEAR I’LL CASTRATE YOU THE NEXT TIME WE MEET!!!

  There was a pause. She was probably trying to compose herself. By this time, I was struggling not to fall off my chair from laughing. She even threatened my balls.

  Jared Kippling: Relax, it was on private mode :P you and I are the only ones who can see it.

  Jared Kippling: it was a joke ^_^

  Samara Reyn: I missed the punch line. DELETE IT

  Samara Reyn: NOW!

  Jared Kippling: fine. You suck the fun out of everything :/

  After I deleted her photo, I checked her prof
ile just because I had nothing else to do.

  Jared Kippling: You only got fifty friends. That is so lame Samara.

  Samara Reyn: I only add people I know.

  Jared Kippling: So why am I in your friend list?

  Her: TJ’s friends with you so I thought of adding you up. Don’t worry, I’m gonna remove you from my list. In fact, I should have done it a long time ago.

  Jared Kippling: No hating Samara.

  Samara Reyn: you deserve to be hated

  Jared Kippling: Look, let’s start over. Forgive and forget, okay?

  Samara Reyn: Forgive and forget? Did you ask for forgiveness?

  Jared Kippling: Do I have to?

  Samara Reyn: You’re an idiot.

  Samara Reyn is offline, but you can still send her a message.

  Damn. I was about to send her another message but she removed me from her friend list. Her profile only allowed messages from her friends. So I sent her a friend request hoping that she’d accept it.

  To take my head off things, I worked on my assignments which took me forever to finish.

  ~*~*~

  Monday morning came and I was excited to go to school. The weekend was just one big blur to me. Not knowing when or how it happened, Biology became my favorite subject all of a sudden. Sitting in front was Samara, listening intently to Miss Santos’ lecture about some form of species I was not interested in. I stopped paying attention when she started discussing the difference between a toad and a frog.

  Samara still refused to talk to me, believe me, I tried talking to her but she avoided me like a plague. I knew what she wanted, for me to apologize to her but my pride just would not let me. Every time I tried, the word seemed to be stuck in my mouth. So I thought of alternative ways for her to forgive me without me actually saying the S word. I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote the words Nice shirt on it. From my experience with girls, they loved to be complimented with their outfit. I was sure Samara was not an exception. I told the person next to me to pass the note to Samara.