The Hottie and the Fatty

by Segunda L.

  When the note reached her, I watched her reaction change from surprise to a scowl before she tore the note into pieces. She searched for my face in the class. As she saw me, she gave me the finger and stuck out her tongue.

  Ain’t she adorable?

  No, no, Jared. She wasn’t supposed to react that way. I was giving her a compliment! Why did I receive a finger instead? I found out the answer to my question when I confronted her outside class.

  “Samara, wait.” I raced her to the door before she pulled her ninja moves and disappeared in the hallway. She was wearing her signature oversized black shirt with the words I’M FAT, SO WAT? written on it. Now I knew what I did wrong. I didn’t bother checking what crap was written on her shirt today. Knowing her, she probably thought I was making fun of her again. I offended her way too many times for her to actually think that I was being sincere.

  “What?” She said, a little too loud while glaring at me.

  “Let’s talk like two normal human beings.” I replied.

  “For that to happen, you actually have to be human. But you’re not. You’re a demon. Now step aside.”

  I see she lumped me with the devil already.

  “I’m trying to apologize here.”

  “Really? Because where I came from, apologies have the words I’m sorry in there somewhere.” She stood there, and waited for my apology.

  The other students started moving out of the room and passed us by with curiosity in their eyes. I gave them my most menacing stare and they moved along doing their own thing. When I was sure no one was around, I let go of the bullshits.

  I sighed deeply. “I want you to know that I am—that I,” I breathed out, “I’m s-s-s-s-s-o-r,” then breathed in, “Phew, this is harder than I thought.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Let’s try that again, shall we?” I asked.

  She tapped her foot and folded her arms, showing her impatience. “I don’t have all day.”

  “I’ll get it this time.” I closed my eyes just to add dramatic effects. “I’m s-s-s-o-o-o-o.”

  Samara growled, literally. “I cannot believe you! Talk to me when you’re actually willing to apologize.” I opened my eyes, and caught her wrist. She looked at me, expecting an apology. But I could not say the words. Damn. Why was saying sorry so hard? I let go of her hand and let her walk away from me, frustrated and angrier than ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fifteen years ago

  A child's wailing disturbed the silence in the usual peaceful playground. The other children played in the swings and slides while one of them was in the corner, playing alone with a robot.

  "What did you do now, Jared?" A woman with jet black hair and asked her four years old son. She was wearing an elegant dress, showing her perfect curves and graceful movements. Her eyebrows were creased in exhaustion. "Peter's mother complained to me about you."

  A handsome boy looked up, revealing the same electrifying blue eyes as the woman. He was sitting on the grass and was contentedly playing with his newly snatched robot. "Peter wouldn't share his robot with me, Mom. Not sharing is bad, right? So I hit him, Mom."

  The woman eyed his son and the robot. "Yes, Jared. Not sharing is bad. Did you hit him hard?" She asked.

  The child grinned proudly. He was missing two front teeth. "I hit him hard, Mom. In his tummy." He exclaimed, and punched the air, re-enacting his action earlier. "And he cried like a girl. Boys shouldn't cry, right Mom?"

  "Boys shouldn't cry. Peter was weak for crying. You should never be like Peter, Jared. Never be weak." She imposed those words on her son.

  "Never! Only girls cry."

  The mother smiled dotingly on her son.

  "But Mom, teacher said what I did was bad and I should say sorry to Peter." The boy inquired, confused by the situation.

  "Don't listen to your teacher. Listen only to me. I'm your mother." She made her child face her and rested her hands on her son's shoulders. "You will not say sorry to Peter or to anyone else. Admitting that you're wrong is a sign of weakness. And no son of mine is weak. Do you understand, Jared?"

  Her son looked at her and slowly nodded.

  "That's my boy." She hugged her child, her heart was at ease now. She has taught him an important lesson in life.

  ~*~*~

  Jared

  Sorry.

  A single word with five letters.

  My relationship with Samara relied on my ability to deliver this word. But how was I supposed to say that when my very foundations were made to refuse to say the word?

  Now for some people, apologizing might not be a big deal. But for me it was a whole other story. I lived my whole life following the wisdom of my mother. She taught me how to be strong, how to rule and how to step on people to get what you want. It was always about the survival of the fittest with my mother. She might not be on Earth anymore to remind me of her teachings but she made sure that everything she taught me were drilled into my very core.

  And old habits are sure hard to break.

  "Fuck." I cursed out of aggravation as I kicked the nearest trash can. The contents of the can was spilled everywhere. Pieces of papers, wrappers, and I hope I was mistaken but I think I saw a condom got thrown on the floor too. I guess some kids really did it in school.

  I looked around the hallway. Good, no one saw me. The school was a neat freak and what I did can be considered as littering on school grounds. Everyone was probably in their next class by now since the place was empty. I walked away from the crime scene before anyone finds me here.

  "Boy! What do you think you're doing?" A stern voice called out after me.

  I looked back to check who it was and I paled. It was Tom the Terrible. Don't ask me where he got his nickname. Technically, he was the janitor of our school and he was very devoted with his job. He reminded me of the old janitor in Harry Potter books, the guy with the really creepy vibes and ugly looking cat. They looked exactly the same except Tom had a Doberman for a cat. The higher-ups allowed him to keep his pet since it added security for the school. I heard Poppy (his dog's name) once caught an outsider trying to steal from students and almost bit him to death.

  And now Poppy was looking at me with saliva dripping from his mouth.

  "I-uh, I was just about to go to class." I lied while eyeing Poppy, thank God the dog was leashed. I just hoped Tom never lets go of the leash.

  "Did you do this?" He asked, referring to the mess I caused on the hallway.

  "No, of course not. I'd never do that."

  Poppy barked. Do dogs sense when a person was lying?

  "Are you sure?" He asked again.

  "It was already there when I got here. But really, who would do that? They sure don't appreciate the kind of work that you need to do."

  I didn’t want to get on Tom's bad side. If Coach Roger ruled the basketball court, Tom was King of the hallways. If Coach Roger served the school since Jurassic era , Tom had been janitor of Everson High since ancient times. He lived his entire life in this school, in fact there was an empty slot in the field reserved as his final resting place when he dies. The guy was a walking legend, he witnessed the entire history of Everson High, from the very first president to the present. Not sure whether it was true or not but there was a fairly popular belief in our school. If you ever got on Tom's bad side, you could say good bye to graduating. There was once this kid who played a prank on Tom, and the next day, his family's business got bankrupt and he failed to graduate because he couldn't afford the tuition. That was one version of the story anyway, another version involved the kid getting into some freak accident and becoming invalid for the rest of his life.

  "Ahh, kids these days. They're just getting worse and worse." He sighed, and I caught sight of his old age showing through his creased forehead.

  "Yeah, they are." I agreed immediately as if I knew what he was talking about. Poppy barked again. Not just barked but actually growled this time. I could fool Tom but not his pet.

  "Your generat
ion is by far the most rebellious. Have you seen the comfort rooms? It's been vandalized. Again. I repaint it every semester but you lot just keep getting your crap back on the walls all the time. I guess it's because of all the repressed energy you have that you channel it out into writing." He discussed like a philosopher.

  "I guess." By this time, I would have agreed to anything that Tom said. Poppy was such a huge dog and he was doing this growling sound. But something with what Tom said latched on to me. Channel it out into writing?

  Why did I not think about that? Well, if I could not say the words, I could just write it down. That way, I don't have to face Samara while saying that five letter word plus I could avoid the awkwardness that comes after the apology. It was a great plan. As expected from Tom, a man who lived since prehistoric times, he really was a walking legend! But how do I get the message to Samara? A letter perhaps? Nah. Too old school and not to mention embarrassing as hell. It was like handing out a freaking love letter which I didn't have the guts to do.

  How about an FB message? No can do. She just unfriended me last night.

  A text message? I didn't have her number. And I definitely had no intention of asking TJ for her number. Who knows what he'd make out if it? I couldn’t just snoop around either and ask for people for her number. It'd be like establishing my stalker status and announcing it to the whole school.

  The sound of Tom's fingers snapping in my face riveted me out of my deep thought.

  "Boy, hold on to Poppy for me while I get my broom to clean up this mess." Tom ordered and handed me the leash of Poppy.

  "I don't think that's a good ide―." My protest was futile since Tom was already too far away to hear me.

  I stood in the hallway, with Poppy's leash on my hand. There was still no person in sight. That was both a blessing and a curse. I wouldn't want people to see me in this situation. This was just so uncool. Last time I checked, standing in the middle of trash with a dog was not considered something a hot guy like me would do. On the other hand, if Poppy suddenly decided to go ballistic and chase after me, then I was dead for sure. There was no one here whom I could call for help.

  "Good doggie." I called out to Poppy. Fortunately, Poppy didn't look like he was going to go planet of the wild on me. The dog was just sniffing around the trash and I had to follow him around since I was still holding on to its leash. Poppy stopped on one particular spot. He stayed longer there than on any other trash that he found. I got curious so I peeked at what he has found. And sure enough, Poppy found a gold mine. The freaking condom was on the floor and I prayed to God it was unused. But just as luck would have it, by the look of the condom, it was pretty much fairly used just a few hours ago. How did I know? It was still wet. And Poppy was licking at the thing as if it was ice cream!

  "Poppy! No!" I pulled Poppy's leash just when it was about to swallow the god damn condom. But Poppy fought me with his own strength. Just what the hell is up with this dog and condoms? I wouldn't have particularly cared about Poppy getting an operation from swallowing a condom but I didn't want to get on Tom's bad side. So I pulled the leash as if my life depended on it. Who knows what kind of bad luck will I get if Poppy dies from swallowing a used condom? I for sure wouldn't want to risk it.

  I pulled and Poppy pushed, it was as if I was playing a tug-of-war with a dog! While I was having a battle of strength with a beast, Trix, Samara's emo friend stepped down from the stairs and saw my situation. She didn't move at first and just looked at me then to Poppy.

  I felt the need to explain the scenario. "This stupid dog wants to eat the condom on the floor."

  Her expression remained unchanged. She wasn't shocked, perplexed or anything. But she did look at the condom and there was a slight change in her face. She crinkled her nose and that was all the reaction I got from her. Then she suddenly started to whistle.

  Poppy immediately ran to her side, forgetting about the condom. I got off balance for a bit and let go of the leash. Trix and Poppy seemed to be pretty close. The dog wagged its tail and Trix patted its head.

  "Where's Tom?" She inquired.

  "He left. Says he's gonna get a broom to clean up the place." I answered as I leaned my back on the wall. Being Samara's friend, Trix was also a member of the misfits club. And they sure had the same weird taste for fashion. While Samara wore oversized shirts, Trix wore tight clothes. She had a leather skirt and boots with net stockings. All black. Her ears had two piercings each. She was the type who my father would call a 'devil worshipper'. My overall assessment, she was definitely weird. But weird or not, she was Samara's friend and I could use her to get closer to Samara. For instance, asking her for Samara's number.

  "Hey, can I have Samara's number?" I asked as I shifted my weight on my right foot.

  Trix was still petting Poppy. She looked at me as I talked.

  "Why?" She asked back.

  Trix didn't strike me as the talkative type so I was pretty sure she wouldn't be telling anyone about this conversation. That was the major reason why I asked her. "Because I got to tell her something." I answered.

  "And what would that be?"

  None of your business. Was what I wanted to say but I don't think she'd give me what I wanted if I tell her that.

  "Just some stuff." I shrugged.

  She stopped petting Poppy and looked at me with suspicion. "Jared Kippling, if you ever hurt my friend, I don't care who you are, I will hunt you down and I'll make sure you pay for what you did." She threatened.

  Uh-huh, what are you gonna do? Summon your friends from the underworld? "You got it all wrong. I just want to apologize to her." I might as well be honest with it.

  She still didn't seem convinced with my story anyway. "Why don't you just tell her that in person?"

  Trix would make one hell of an investigator someday.

  "I tried but I can't do it." I responded in a hushed tone. "So, are you going to give me her number or not?"

  Poppy barked, breaking the suspense from the situation.

  "Give me your phone." She finally yielded.

  Score. I walked forward and I handed her my iphone. She punched in what I hoped to be Samara's number and returned the phone to me. "Thanks for this." I said.

  "Don't forget my warning, Kippling. I'll be watching you." Trix said as her parting words, her eyes highlighted by a dark eyeliner glowered at me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jared

  Our education system was flawed. Really flawed. In school, we learned about Calculus, Biology, Statistics and a lot of other subjects which didn’t actually mean anything to me. When in reality, what we needed to learn was not thought in school. Take my situation right now, I had no idea how to say sorry because I wasn’t thought how. My mother didn’t teach me that in my childhood, it was practically a nonexistent word as far as my mother was concerned. Not only did she not teach me but she banned me from saying it. I knew it was common knowledge but what could I do? I grew up with a different childhood. If the school offered a course which went something like Apology 101, then I’d be the first one to sign up for it.

  Now that I have Samara’s number, I was actually starting to chicken out. Was sending her a text message really a good idea? How was I supposed to start my message? What was the proper way to say I’m sorry anyway? Should I just tell her directly that I was sorry? Or should I start with a greeting first? Like asking her about her day or the weather perhaps?

  I was sitting on one of the benches. The funny thing was that it was the same bench where I “shared a snack” with Samara. It was actually the best spot, the tree shaded me from the sun. I needed to get away from everyone. As soon as classes ended, I came here and thought about my message to Samara. It was my fifth attempt to type one and I ended up deleting it. Nothing seemed to be good enough for me. If I was gonna do this, then I was going to do it right. I tried again.

  Hey, how are you? Classes just ended for me. It’s a really nice afternoon, don’t you think? The leaves are turning a shade
of brown. And you know what they say about leaves, they symbolize new life. So why don’t we turn a new leaf and let’s forgive and forget? What do you say?

  I sound stupid. I clicked on delete button and typed another message.

  Hey, brah! Sorry about me calling you a fatty. Will never happen again.

  Nah. I sound too buddy-buddy. I trashed the message again.

  Samara, I sincerely apologize for my past behavior towards you. I know I was being a jerk and I promise you it will never happen again. Hoping for your kind consideration.

  Too formal? Maybe I should remove the ‘hoping for your kind consideration’ part?

  That was exactly what I did and I clicked on the sent button and hoped for the best.

  Phew. There, it’s done.

  I did my best, I was being sincere with those words. My fingers were actually trembling from anticipation for her reply. The iphone vibrated and Samara’s name registered on the screen. My heart drummed loudly, I was so nervous. What would she say? I inhaled deeply first before reading the message. Finally, I opened it.

  Samara: Who’s this?

  Oh shit! I forgot to put my name when I sent her my text. I was too busy thinking of what to say that I didn’t bother to introduce myself. I replied to her message.

  Me: Jared here.

  Just a few seconds after, my iphone vibrated again.

  Samara: Where did you get my number?

  Me: I’m all knowing ;)

  It took her another minute to reply, she was possibly wondering where I got her number.

  Samara: STALKER

  Me: Ha-ha. Very funny. :/

  Samara: STALKER STALKER STALKER STALKER STALKER STALKER

  Uh, what happened to my apology? She was just playing with me right now. It was cute but hello? I just poured my heart out with that text message.

  Me: Yeah, whatever. So am I forgiven?

  Samara: NO

  Wow. She can really hold a grudge.

  Me: I already said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?