by Wilde, Ora
“What?” he asked, noticing my snigger.
“Nothing,” I answered as I tried my best to refrain from guffawing too hard.
“Well, what do you want?”
“Uhm... are you free Saturday night?”
“We’re supposed to be siblings,” he answered as he squinted his eyes.
“What? Why? Oh... no... nothing like that! It’s just that I want to attend a party, but Mom doesn’t want me to go there alone. She said that if I could convince you to accompany me, I could go.”
He crossed his arms as he paused for a while. He eyed me keenly, as if he was trying to determine if I was serious or not.
“Okay,” he finally said and my eyes lighted up. “But...”
Shit! There’s always a but.
“But what?” I asked, as my enthusiasm dissipated.
“But if I do this favor for you, you will owe me two favors in return.”
“Two favors? For one? Don’t you think that’s unfair?”
“It’s called leveraging for profit. Basic business strategy.”
Given how capricious his moods are, I was fairly confident that he’d soon forget that I owed him those favors.
“Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal!” I acknowledged.
“Good. What time is the party?”
“It starts at nine. We could leave the house at around eight-thirty.”
“Okay then.”
Whew! I never expected things to go that smoothly.
“Oh, by the way,” Darwin interposed.
He didn’t finish what he was saying as he went inside his room to get something, or so it seemed. As he was away, I caught a whiff of the scent that emanated from his quarters... the smell of cigarette smoke and musk... very manly... very him...
He went back by the door and gave me a paper bag.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“I took the liberty to get your shoes from your room earlier.”
“My shoes?”
“The pair you wore for school today.”
“Why?”
“A strap came off. I fixed it.”
He noticed that?
“Fixed it?”
“Yup. With Super Glue. It should hold up for quite some time as long as you don’t drag your feet while walking... which you always do.”
He noticed that too?
“Uhm...” I struggled for words. “Thank you?”
“Okay. See you tomorrow. Good night.”
He hurriedly shut his door. I was left standing outside... paralyzed... tantalized.
He noticed.
All the while, he noticed.
After what seemed like minutes, I proceeded to my room with a giddy smile, humming a song that I hated... the same song that he sang so badly that it sounded like tumultuous noise... an irksome melody… a reminder of joy… a beautiful kind of chaos.
Darwin arrived late for school the next morning. He didn’t even bother to apologize to Ms. Tesmacher. He just went straight to his seat next to mine. He looked straight ahead, blankly starting at the blackboard.
He wasn’t planning on recognizing my presence again, that much I could tell.
I scribbled a note on a piece of paper and crumpled it. I threw the scrunched up note on his desk. He was surprised when it fell flatly in front of him. He picked it up, unwrapped it, and read what was written.
Don’t forget your promise. :P
He looked at me and smiled. Then he mouthed something like “I’ll keep this note near my heart so I won’t forget.”
What he did next shocked me.
He crumpled the piece of paper once again and threw it in his mouth. He looked at me and winked. Then he swallowed it.
I laughed so hard that I actually forgot I was in class.
“Miss Smith!” Ms. Tesmacher called out. “Is there anything funny about the Salem Witch Trials?”
I looked at her as terror gripped my heart. It was never my intention to disrespect her or her class.
“N-No Ma’am,” I struggled to answer, “it was just... I....”
Words escaped me.
“That’s very unbecoming of you, Miss Smith,” she continued. “Of all my students in this class... nay, in this batch, you’re the one whom I least expected to be involved with such impudent mischief!”
I bowed my head in shame as I heard the class with their oooohhhhhsss. They too, apparently, were in a state of disbelief.
Then suddenly...
“Nah... don’t be too tight, Ms. Assmuncher,” Darwin casually uttered, with his arms rested behind his neck and his feet planted on top of his table.
“W-What?” Ms. Tesmacher asked, with greater shock than the one I caused. “What did you just say?”
“I said don’t be too tight, Ms. Assmuncher,” Darwin repeated with a wide grin.
“H-How dare you!” Ms. Tesmacher was livid.
“How dare me what?” Darwin replied as he shrugged. “Ohhhh... I said something funny. Don’t be too tight, Ms. Assmuncher... we can shorten it and say, don’t be a tight ass.” He started laughing, and as if on cue, the entire class began to laugh with him.
I knew the trouble that Darwin was getting himself into. I had to do something.
“Ms. Tesmacher,” I started to say, “please forgive Darw... please forgive my brother. His medications are just starting to kick in. The doctor warned us that he would act weirdly for a few hours after ingestion.”
Darwin gave me a perplexed look.
“What kind of medication?” Ms. Tesmacher asked.
“Uhm... for ADHD?” I hesitantly answered.
“What the fuck?!” Darwin immediately yelled.
Ms. Tesmacher eyed me earnestly, as if she was trying to determine if I was telling the truth or not. Darwin was looking at me furiously. I guess, for him, my poor excuse damaged his reputation.
“I see,” Ms. Tesmacher sighed. “Very well, Betty. Please accompany your brother to the clinic and stay there until the effects of his medication subsides.”
I nodded and hurriedly picked up my books and my bag and started towards the door. Darwin refused to move. I had to look back and signal him to come with me before he stood up and grumbled some words I didn’t understand.
He didn’t speak a single word on our way to the clinic.
I stopped in front of the nurse’s station but he continued to walk... away from me, towards the football field.
“Darwin,” I called him. “We’re supposed to stay here.”
He didn’t even turn to look at me. He continued on his way and I had no choice but to follow him.
We reached the field and he rested his back against the goal post. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He drew a stick and lit it up.
“You’re not supposed to smoke inside the school’s premises,” I told him.
“We’re not supposed to do a lot of things,” he replied. He still avoided facing me.
“What was that all about?” I asked him.
“What was what?”
“That stunt you pulled off in class. That was highly disrespectful.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
“What?” I was appalled by what he said. Is he insinuating that he did that for me?
“I had to do it,” he continued. “You were in trouble. I had to divert Ms. Assmuncher’s anger to me.”
“I could’ve handled it myself!”
“No. You were stuttering. You didn’t know what to do. It was an entirely new experience for you. You were never in that kind of trouble your entire life.”
He was right. I never had problems like that in school. I was always the donnish student who wallowed in anonymity and focused on my books. Troublemaking was a concept that was alien to me.
“I’m a glass half-full kind of guy,” Darwin carried on. “Something good came out of that... episode.”
“Yeah. Like what?”
“A lesson learned.”
“What lesson did you learn?”
“Not for me. For you.”
“Me? And what lesson did I learn? Do pray tell...”
“That you shouldn’t pass cutesy notes in class.”
“Oh, cutesy note? That’s what it was for you, huh? For your information, Sir, it was a simple reminder about accompanying me this Saturday evening...”
“A simple reminder with a smiley?”
I cleared my throat. I didn’t think that the smiley I added at the end of the note would be given an entirely new meaning.
“What?” I asked cynically. “It was just a polite postscript!”
He finished his stick and flicked the cigarette butt. It flew all the way to a quarter of the field.
“Time to go back to class,” he said. “The effects of my medication are gone.” He gave me an angry look.
“About that... sorry,” I apologized. “I had to say something and it was the first one that came to mind.”
“Yeah, yeah... now everyone thinks I’m like Bart Simpson.”
“Sorry,” I repeated.
“Give me your hand,” he suddenly ordered.
“What? Why?”
“Give me your hand,” he repeated.
I extended my right hand and he took it with his. His touch was warm, gentle... tenderly affectionate, yet possessing a grip with guarded strength that reflected his masculinity.
He studied my palm. He tilted his head left and right as he tried to find a good angle.
He finally dropped my hand after what seemed like a minute or so. Strangely enough, I felt a tad of disappointment as soon as his graze withdrew from my skin.
“Duality,” he remarked, out of nowhere.
“Duality? What do you mean?”
“Your life is bound by duality.”
“What? You can read fortunes now?”
“Yup.”
“Really? Like since when?”
“My aunt thought me. A long time ago.”
“So what’s this thing about duality?”
“You’ve got two lifelines, which is very uncommon. Your lifelines intertwine at several points. Your life is guided by two selves. You are always conflicted. You are always confused about which path you should take.”
The sudden depth of our conversation jolted me into speechlessness.
“In short,” he continued, “you’re a walking contradiction with a nice ass.”
He chuckled as he left the field and proceeded on his way back to class.
I was left by the goal post, watching him as he drifted away. What he said about me... somehow it made sense. I always felt that I was at the center of dissension, only to realize belatedly that such dispute was happening within myself.
Soon, Darwin disappeared from my sight, but the tepidity of his touch lingered on my hand.
Wait. Did he just say that I had a nice ass?
I was on my way home after school when I saw Darwin by his motorbike, chatting with Chelsea Summers... the same girl he seemed to have flirted with two days ago... the same girl who I always saw, from the corner of my eye, staring at him longingly while biting her pencil for a good duration of the day.
It looked like a friendly chat. A few inches separated them. But Chelsea’s body language was telling a different story. She was fidgety as she flashed her smile. Her hips swayed from side to side as she talked to him. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. And she was savoring the fact that he was so close, she could almost taste him.
I’m a woman. I know that stuff.
I started to approach them. He was laughing and she was giggling and they seemed to be so engrossed with what they were talking about that they didn’t even notice me moving towards their spot.
“Hey Darwin,” I greeted him.
He turned around and saw me... finally. I was smiling at him but he didn’t smile back. Instead, he looked rather annoyed, as if I disturbed him from doing something important.
“Are you going home soon?” I asked, just to give purpose to my intrusion.
“Soon,” he simply said, rather callously.
“Okay,” I answered. “Bye.”
Their snickers grew louder as I walked away. I didn’t dare look back. I wanted to, but something was stopping me. Was it the fear of humiliation? But why would that embarrass me? Was it wariness, perhaps? That he would once again act like a jerk? I’m sure I could’ve handled that. Was it concern, then? That I would inadvertently compromise the reputation he was trying to establish in school… a reputation that seemed so important to him? I’d love to believe that I would have garnered some form of satisfaction from that.
Or was it a cornucopia of feelings, then? Of resentment and anger and pain and longing?
Jealousy?
I wanted to strike my head with my palm just to bring me back to my senses. Why in the world would I be jealous?! It’s not as if he was my boyfriend or something. It’s not like I have the biggest crush on him. He’s my stepbrother. My stepBROTHER... brother being the operative word!
But then again, if it wasn’t jealousy that I was feeling, what was it?
The stroll home was a short one. I tend to walk fast when I’m thinking... or when I’m agitated and nervous.
As soon as I got inside the house, a familiar voice greeted me.
“Betty!” Uncle Charlie called. “How have you been?”
He approached me and gave me a tight hug.
“Everything’s cool, Uncle Charlie,” I answered. “How are you? I thought you’d arrive tomorrow?”
“Yep, I could’ve spent more time resting for the long flight to California,” he said. Then he looked at my mom who was standing right beside him. “But some things can’t wait,” he continued as he gave her an affectionate smile.
I was delighted to see my mom that happy.
“How’s Darwin?” Uncle Charlie asked. “Has he been treating you well?” His voice suddenly revealed a tint of worry.
“Yeah, yeah... he’s alright,” I quickly told him. It was the truth. Regardless of Darwin’s... peculiarities... he has been good to me.
“That’s nice to hear,” he stated. “You will have to forgive him sometimes. I know he can be somewhat... unusual at times. I’d like to beg for your kindest understanding whenever my son acts that way.”
To describe him as unusual would be a gross understatement.
“No problem, Uncle Charlie,” I assured him. “Yeah, I’ve experienced, first hand, how odd he could be, but nothing to worry about. He’s a sweet boy... whenever he wants to be one.”
“I know,” he acceded. “I bet he has integrated himself well in his new school.”
How did he know?
“That’s right,” I replied with amazement. “In just three days, he has become one of the most popular kids in school.”
“He has that... gift,” he revealed. “He always drowned himself in the company of his peers as a means of coping up.” Uncle Charlie’s face suddenly turned sad.
“Coping up?” I wondered aloud. “Coping up with what?”
“With the tragedy, Sweetie,” my mom interceded as Uncle Charlie didn’t seem like he was in any condition to continue the tale.
I was trying to piece everything together when the door suddenly opened. It was Darwin. He was surprised to see the three of us huddled up in the living room.
“You guys aren’t talking about me, right?” he immediately asked.
“No, no... of course not,” I answered rather jumpily.
“Good,” he replied as he went straight upstairs, leaving behind the scent of cigarette smoke and his musky perfume.
“It’s nice to see you too, son!” Uncle Charlie belatedly shouted. I doubt if Darwin heard him as his bedroom door shut before his father could speak.
“So, about this tragedy,” I started as I turned to face my folks once again, hoping to get the story behind my new stepbrother’s erratic behavior.
“Another time, Dear,” my mother pleaded. “Not when he’s at home. He might hear us and I don’t want h
im to remember that day.”
