[1]

Young and stupid, I called myself. I had met Timothy during one of my friends’ gatherings. Oh, she had gatherings galore, and I rarely attended any. But it was her birthday, and she begged me to come. “C’mon, take some time off and enjoy yourself, Tina. I know you hate crowds… but this will be different, ok? Follow me, say ‘Yes, Hazel.’ Come on.”

And so I went. Stupid me, I went.

Hazel had many friends. Many of them were wild. With a shy little smile, I settled myself into a corner by the windows. My beige shirt blended into the large sofa, making me feel rather invisible. I rather liked that. Most of my classmates were busy chatting up guys, I noticed wryly. Hazel, rather intoxicated with fun, plopped down beside me in the middle of it all, just when I had picked up a rather interesting book from the coffee table and was getting engrossed in little grey cells of Monsieur Poirot.

“Oh, don’t be such a bookworm, Tina. Come, I’ve got the greatest guy on planet earth to introduce you to.”

“I’d rather not,” I replied, my eyes itching to get back on the lovely page.

“Don’t be so anti-social. I guarantee he’s okay.”

She pulled me up from the chair, and rather reluctantly I followed. What could I do? She stopped in front of a lanky, dashing man. Maybe not man. He didn’t look old enough for “man” but not young enough for “kid”. He had to be older than me.

“Timmy dear, this is Tina. She’s a wonderful kid, I tell you. You just have to know her,” Hazel gushed.

He looked me over with his warm, large brown eyes and smiled. He stuck out his right hand for a shake and used his left to push up the rather long bangs that kept falling over his eyes.

“Hullo, Tina,” he said disarmingly. Hazel disappeared.

I shook his hand. Feeling a fool, I stood there, looking at him, not knowing what to say.

Some fellow passed by with a tray of drinks and he took two, passing one to me. “The name’s Timothy, if you didn’t catch that already.”

“Yeah, I caught that,” I said rather shyly.

“Enjoying the party? You don’t look like it really.”

“I didn’t really want to come,” I said, sipping at the drink. It was orange cordial. With fizz.

“Come,” he said, and led me out to the balcony. We grimaced at the sight of a couple kissing.

He turned me around and closed the curtains after him. “Not here then.” And we walked away again. “Pity, the balcony was always such a nice place to hang.”

“The sofa’s rather empty – or was anyway, when Hazel pulled me out of it,” I offered.

So we made our way there, me feeling rather a dumb wit, and him feeling… I don’t know what he was feeling.

“Hullo, that looks like an interesting book,” he said, picking up the Agatha Christie from the table where I left it.

“It is. I was just there when I was interrupted,” I said, pointing at the open page.

“Ah. I guess you like reading then.” I sat down and so did he.

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged.

“I kind of like it myself – when I’m not partying,” he added.

“Oh, really,” I answered, beginning to get rather interested in getting to know him. “So, where are you from? What school I mean.”

“I’ve finished school,” he said. “I’m in Disted now.”

“Oh. That makes you what? Eighteen?”

“Turning eighteen next month. What about you?”

“I’m Hazel’s age,” I said, suddenly feeling shy about telling my age.

“Ah. Sweet sixteen.”

“Well, technically not yet. In three months time, though.”

“So what do you think of Form four?”

“It’s okay. A bit different, but still, it’s school.”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause and I reached for the book that was lying open on the chair between us.

“So, what kind of books do you read?” he asked, just I had gotten hold of it.

“Loads. Almost all kinds of novels, really. You?”

“I like those romance ones.”

“You? Romance?” A guy reading romance books? It was unthinkable – for me anyway.

“Yeah, I’m a sap for romance.”

There was silence for a while as I contemplated his large eyes. Maybe I could believe that he read romances. He had romantic kind of eyes. He turned to look at me and I hurriedly dropped my eyes to the book. And pushed my glasses further up my nose.

As silence reigned, I became engrossed in the book again, quite forgetting about Timothy’s existence.

Somewhere, later, the phone rang, and I heard my name being called.

The clock read half past ten and I assumed it was my parents calling to say they were about to pick me up. I got up unrushed.

“Tina! It’s your phone,” Hazel was calling again.

I was right. It was my parents and they were coming. Oh well, I was nearly at the end of the book anyway. I wandered back to the sofa, estimating another ten minutes before the car horn would sound. I hoped I could finish the book.

But I was confronted with pained big eyes as I sat down again.

“Going back so soon?” Timothy said.

“Well… yeah. Why?”

“I kind of thought we could talk a bit more after you got your nose out of that book.”

Gosh. Did I ignore him that badly? Maybe I did. I felt hot. Definitely blushing now. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “That’s okay.”

“I sometimes get kind of lost in books.”

“I can tell.” He grinned again. I could feel myself blushing even more.

What did he want to talk about anyway? I barely knew him, and would probably never meet him again. That’s probably the book talking, but the writer in me was scoping the possibility that this would make a far nicer blog entry than “I went to Hazel’s party and read a book.”

But he didn’t really say anything much, so I rushed through the last few pages of the book and finished just as a car horn sounded outside.

“That has to be my parents,” I said to him, getting up. “Can’t wait till I can drive,” I added, rolling my eyes.

He laughed. ‘Your time will come. See you around then, Tina.”

“Bye Timothy.”

“Tim.”

“Right. Tim.”

And so I left the house, wishing Hazel warm farewells and wonderful birthdays, for the rest of the day and for the rest of the years.

Barely a foot into the house and who should call but Leona? Now Leona’s a pretty good friend of mine – not really a confidant, I must say, but pretty good friends. We talk loads most of the time but not always. She’d known about the party. Gatecrashed for a while in fact. Now why did I say ‘gatecrashed’? I’m sure she was invited. But oh well, I always wanted to use that word. I saw her while I was being dragged to meet Tim and I supposed she’d called about that.

I was right. Two sentences into the conversation, she said, “So, Hazel introduced you to Tim, eh?”

“Yeah, so?” I replied.

“Yeah so? Don’t you ‘yeah so’ me. Do you know who he is?”

“Who?”

“You total blur case! That’s the Tim that the whole school has been talking about the past week!” I could almost see her rolling her eyes.

“Oh. That Tim. Really? I didn’t know.” I really didn’t.

“Tina…” She dragged the a’s and e’s out really long. Like “Teeeeeeenaaaaaaaaaa”

“What?”

“How could you?”

“How could I what?”

“Not take that wonderful opportunity to get a date or something?”

“Uh. Well.” Now what could I say? I didn’t because I was too engrossed in a book? F.O.O.L. That’s me.

“I don’t believe you! I mean, he’s the hottest guy around and you just wasted it.”

“Oh. Well,” it came out really, really small. And I mean a really teensy weensy sound.

She sighed.

“Why don’t you go talk to him then? You’re still there, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Well. I…”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know him!” she wailed.

“Ask Hazel to introduce you then.”

“That’s cheap. That’s real cheap.”

“Then don’t moan to me!”

“Tina!” She dragged it out again, distorting my name into some sort of wail.

There was some sort of disturbance and I could hear Leona talking excitedly to some guy.

“Hello? Leona? Leo? Are you there?”

“Hey, Tina?” A male voice answered.

“Hello?”

“This is Tim here.”

“Oh. Hi.” I was at a loss for words. Which I usually am, anyway, so it wasn’t anything new or strange to me.

“You don’t mind me getting your phone number from… uh…”

“Leona?”

“Yeah, Leona”

“It’s okay, I guess.” What could I say? ‘No, you can’t have my number even though you’re staring it in the face?’

“That’s great! I’ll call you sometime then, ok? Better not waste your friend’s credit here.”

“Okay, bye.”

“See you around.”

Leona came back on the phone.

“So, take your chance now, Leona! Talk to him!” I said dryly.

“I know, I know! See ya, bye!” She was practically squealing, and as I put the phone down, I could imagine her dancing with delight. Leona was never one to hide her excitement. I’d get an earful of this tomorrow at school, if I didn’t get it sometime in the middle of the night – but no, every one knew not to call in the middle of the night – they’d get an extremely annoyed father and a half-dead listener on the phone.

First thing after the phone call, I went up to my room, went online and sat typing out a long blog entry on my impressions of the day.

Hazel’s Party.

I suppose I enjoyed myself a tad more than I thought I would, but in no way will I make this routine! So, don’t you be bugging me, Hazel! I have to admit I was kind of lonely and lost – things I expected to face. Hazel, you KNOW I hate crowds. Why do you have to do this to me? But in a strange kind of way, it was fun. Everybody was just so friendly and crazy, but only up to a point. Up to the point where they decided they want to couple up and I just hate that. So I wandered off, and wonder of wonders – a book! A book lying on the table in Hazel’s house in the middle of a party. If that wasn’t planned, I don’t know Hazel. Thanks, girl. But I guess your nature bested you anyway. Hazel dragged me off in the middle of the most exciting part of the book to meet… Timothy. I know the rest of you will be screaming now, especially those of you who couldn’t make it to the bash and those of you who were to shy to say hello. What IS the matter with you guys? Don’t you have a brain in that head of yours? Yeah, he’s a guy but so? You people meet guys everyday, or I don’t know the tuitions you go to. You girls flirt up guys everyday. How come talking to this one’s such a big deal for you all? Okay, this is the sceptical writer in me talking and not the bookworm Tina you all know and love. So we talked a bit and then I wandered off back into the book. Went home and listened to Leona blabber on the phone (sorry, Leo, this is an exaggeration.) and now I’m here updating you all on the extremely hip and happening (yeah, right) life of Tina Chan.

I need to shut up and get some shuteye. See you all tomorrow at school.

I uploaded it with a yawn and turned in for the night.

*

“Uh Tina, I’m not so sure you should write all that in your blog,” Anna said. “You’re practically running down all your friends. And you don’t know for sure who comes and reads this.”

Tina shrugged. “Anna, I’m telling the story here. I’m your protagonist, remember? I have the right to voice my own opinions, right? What’s your problem?”

“It’s just not appropriate, you know. Running people down in public and saying things like ‘don’t you have a brain in that head of yours.’ It’s not… nice.

“Oh, but I already did.”

“In the first place, I didn’t want you to go to that party altogether.”

“Oh. Sorry, Anna. I didn’t know. Well, what’s done is done, isn’t it? Let’s look forward to the future then.”

“Okay, Tina. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Things might not go very well if you don’t listen to me.”

“Whatever.”

*

Maths is not a good thing early in the morning when you’re still half asleep and grumpy. Maths is a bad thing when you reach school with ten minutes to spare and realise that you have 15 questions to do, having inconveniently forgotten all about them until now. Maths is an extremely horrible and frustrating thing when you have five minutes to finish 6 questions while a hormone-crazed Amanda stood at your shoulder jabbering.

I was panicking. I hate passing up homework late and I hate getting questions wrong, but it seemed like I had to choose between the two. Pass up on time with mistakes? Or late and get it right? Amanda didn’t help my foul mood much when she plonked a hand on my exercise book and said, “Are you listening Tina?”

I blew up.

“Amanda Cheng can you shut your blasted mouth up and go away? I need to get these stupid questions finished and you’re not helping! So can you just bug off?”

“Tina! How dare you yell at me?”

“I dare. Go away,” I replied, really yelling this time. She stood there, jabbering even more. I shoved her hand away and tried to ignore her.

I could feel the tears welling as I scribbled furiously, angry at myself for getting mad, angry at Amanda for making me mad and angry at maths for being the cause of it all.

“Chill, T.” The calmest voice in the school broke through the yelping of the most irritating brat in the world. I know I’m exaggerating. Amanda’s loudness suddenly shut up in the face of Kathe’s shrivelling glare.

The bell rang as I wrote the last number. I looked up. Sabrina, our class monitor had gone. Now I would be late AND wrong.

“Come on, T. Sabri just left. We’ll catch her on the way if we hurry.”

I grabbed my book and followed her dumbly. Nothing like a little Kathe coolness to make everything saner. She was right. We caught Sabrina just at the door of the teacher’s room and she stared blankly at us.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You forgot a book,” Kathe said before I could open my mouth.

“Oh, right. Thanks,” she took my exercise book and added it into her pile and disappeared into the room.

“There, nothing to it. Right, T?” she said, smiling as we went back to class.

“Thanks a mill, K.”

“You can thank me by telling be about this ‘hot date’ everyone says you have,” she said.

“Date?” I blinked. Despite the maths and the yelling, I hadn’t quite woken up yet. I’m not a morning person. Definitely not.

“This Tim person?” she prodded.

“Oh, Tim. There is no date, contrary to popular belief.”

“Right.”

“Really. You can ask Leona.”

“And how come Leona knows things about you that your best friend doesn’t?”

“Because you weren’t there. And it wasn’t your phone.”

“You’re muddling me. Start from the beginning.”

So I told her the story as we walked back to class and as we waited for the teacher to enter. There wasn’t much to the whole thing, really, and I wondered why people made such a fuss about him. He was just a normal guy who had talked to me. So?

His face was fading from my memory. I’d probably recognise him when I saw him next, but I couldn’t describe him now – that was for sure. Wait – knowing my superbly wonderful memory for faces I’d probably have forgotten his face the next time I met him. Leona would kill me for that one. Hazel would laugh her pretty head off. Kathe would shake hers and Amanda would have a fit.

I hate Amanda.

*

“Uh, Tina, remember what I said about running people down in public?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You just said that you hate Amanda.”

“I do.”

“I meant you to fight her, but not to hate her.”

“Oh. But I hate her. She’s a stuck up prig. Can’t you make her any nicer?”

“Well, T, you know in every story there has to be someone that’s not so nice.”

“Yeah, and I just don’t like not so nice people.” Anna was staring at the screen and running her fingers on the keyboard as she always does that when she couldn’t think of what to write.

“Besides, you’re the one who made me forget my maths homework, and you know what that does to my internal systems.”

“I just thank God Kathe listens to me. If all my characters were like you, I’d never get a story written out. In fact, Denise and her friends were such wonderful people! They followed just about every single thing I said. Why can’t you be like that?”

Tina grinned. “Because you didn’t make me that way. You made me fiery, sassy and rebellious.”

“I did? I thought you were a quiet, book-wormish kind of girl. I certainly thought of you that way.”

“I can tell by the way you make me speak that I’m obviously not as quiet as you think I am. In fact, I like being sassy and crazy, so I think I’ll stay that way.”

Anna groaned internally.