The Bitch's Game
Summary: "Hey bitch," I said out of breath, as if I was still running in a marathon. Dragonflies, hornets and butterflies erupted in my chest. I gulped. "Taste the rainbow." And the colorful shower of Skittles slid down his head. (One-shot)
Once upon a time, during a very boring, sleep-inducing Science Fair, my guy friend and I went inside our school's science lab where our bags were placed. Don't ask me why our bags were there of all places, the teachers were, I mean, are the weirdest creatures to ever lurk our campus. Enough said.
No, this is not a tale of how we carelessly pranced into the lab and started making out like sex-deprived monkeys… if sex-deprived monkeys ever made out. Well maybe they took out their 'appetite' on their bananas. That would explain a lot. Oh and secondly, yuck. Doing so would be beyond borderline incest. Again: enough said.
"I throw my hands up in the air sometimes / Sayin' ay-oh, gotta let go / I wanna celebrate and live my life / Sayin' ay-oh, baby let's go!" We both sang as we busted out our amazing, eyeball-turning, jaw-dropping dance moves that could rival against Michael Jackson's.
Pick up on my sarcasm, people.
I, being the epitome of coolness (yep, I'm a god), turned the doorknob of the chocolate-colored door, leaving it just a butt crack-wide open before ninja-kicking it with utmost grace and flawlessness.
Well, so much for that.
"That's what you get for being a dendrite," my guy friend teased as his light blonde locks bounced slightly, his gray eyes bright with laughter.
Offended, I stuck my tongue out at him. He stuck his out in response. Jerk.
"Whatever," I cleverly said, crossing my arms as I took in the surroundings. The throbbing pain in my right foot was gone.
The science lab wasn't all that impressive with its white tiles and faded beige walls. It wasn't huge as well. There were two black counters parallel to each other at the sides of the room. An emergency shower stall was tucked away in the farthest corner along with a fire extinguisher. Wooden tables, black chairs, cupboards, our bags (including our other classmates') and laboratory apparatuses occupied the rest of the space. Ah, I forget, there were two foosball machines in both far ends of the science lab. The eccentricity bewilders me too.
"Hey, you want to play foosball?"
"Forever and always," I shrugged casually before grinning madly. "Let the ass-kicking commence."
He acknowledged my jibe by giving me an obvious Uh…yeah right, dendrite' (I have amazing rhyming skills as well) look before searching the machine for the foosball ball. Ha, that sounded redundant.
"What the hell is this?" He held up a small ball made out of masking tape, chuckling slightly.
Dryly, I pointed out, "It's a tape ball, loser."
"There are no other balls in this room."
Shrugging, I offered, "Let's just use the tape ball." To which, he nodded.
It wasn't a sagely decision on both our parts. It turned out that the stupid ball would just randomly stop due to the tape's natural stickiness. Stupid tape ball!
Stubbornly, we remained undeterred and continued playing with the useless inanimate object…until he came in.
Now, let me just ask you people, which fairytale had two guys in it? Yeah, thought so. Did it ever occur to you that I was the only girl in this scenario? Did it also strike you fine folk that I happen to curse a lot? But I digress.
"Hey," we both grunted in greeting as we irritatingly eyed the ball, willing it to start acting like a real foosball ball but to our utmost chagrin, it did not.
"Why are you torturing yourselves? Just get a real ball," his deep, ominous voice stated in that holier-than-thou tone he had mastered since birth. Oh how I hated him. Stupid, annoyingly conceited prick!
Ironically, he's my half-friend. I say this because, well, sometimes I just don't know where we stand. We hate, we argue, we get along, we have fun, we act couple-like-ish and the list goes on. Somehow along the way, I just fell. Fell from the Eiffel Tower. Not that he knew that. Not that anyone knew that. Ahem, moving on.
My guy friend stopped turning the little knobs and stared at the newcomer. I stopped to think too. There were four foosball machines in our school. Two in the science lab, one in the empty room in between the freshmen's classroom and the last one was in the seniors' classroom. I know, how about us lowly sophomores? It's injustice. To make it more aggravating, the freshmen knew shit about foosball. In other words, they sucked.
"Let's go to the seniors' classroom next door, maybe they have a ball," my friend suggested.
My half-friend and I nodded before staring at each others eyes affectionately—sarcasm—competitively with merciless laser beams and glare bullets.
Then, being the wild free spirits that we are, the three of us raced out of the lab.
Halfway to our finish line: the classroom, he shoved me towards the wall to which I yelled, "Bitch!"
"Back at you," the dark-haired, brown-eyed bitch retorted with a sly wink before pushing our other competition.
Using the distraction to my advantage, I ran faster and reached said finish line.
"No foosball balls here," I announced with a frown.
"Third floor, anyone?" My friend asked but the bitch and I were already sprinting up the staircase next to the seniors' classroom, heading towards the empty room. Thank god for my amazing endurance.
"What the—bitch!" I exclaimed as he tugged on my leg, almost making me fall down the stairs. Annoyed, I threw the tape ball I accidentally brought with me at him, hitting his backside.
"I love you too."
Angrily gritting my teeth, I mumbled the particular curse word again.
My rage bubbling ferociously, I ran up the rest of the stairs only to find the bitch struggling with the doorknob. I smiled in content, my anger temporarily subdued. My, what a sadist I turned out to be.
"Door's locked," he informed me as I rolled my eyes, panting as he was out of breath. Well, good. Oh wait, I was exhausted too.
Remembering that there were two doors to the room, I tried the other one…only to find out that it was also locked.
The bitch stared at me cockily, his hair in a messy disarray and a grin tugging his beautifully-shaped lips. Somehow, I found it—incredibly, inexplicably, indefinitely—hot. Well, damn times two.
"Race you down," he winked, already making his way down the stairs and running his hand through his dark brown tresses.
Although he irritated me to no end with his condescending tone, I couldn't help but laugh before grabbing the tape ball and throwing it at him again. Sadly, I missed and he responded with a teasing yet obviously amused chuckle. Due to the dizziness I felt, I melted when I heard such sound.
Childishly, he taunted, "Catch me if you can, bitch!"
Huffing from exasperation and the beads of perspiration rolling down my cheeks, I blew my dark tendrils from my forehead. Then, I started to run down the staircase right after I yelled, "Will do, you bitch."
All I heard was his rumbling laughter. Total swoonage right there. Stay still, cardiac muscles.
Upon entering the dull zone which was called as the 'science lab,' I heard the strumming of a guitar.
Though I was out of breath and I probably looked like crap, a small smile etched my face. I knew who that was.
"Do you know what's worth fighting for? / When it's not worth dying for? / Does it take your breath away / And you feel yourself suffocating?"
The bitch continued playing his black and blue guitar, the same one he had told me was his favorite and I had told him that blue is my favorite color, as he sat on one of the tables. I sat on a chair across him, crossing my legs and smoothening out my dark denim blue skirt.
His deep voice echoed throughout the room although honestly speaking, singing was definitely not his forte. He wasn't appallingly terrible though. He didn't squeak or screech or something. In fact, his singing voice was tolerable…just not American Idol worthy.
"Does the pain weigh out the pride? / And you look for a place to hide? / Did someone break your heart inside? / You're in ruins," I sang along, grinning as I remembered that I loved how he played the guitar. I always had a thing for musicians.
His brown eyes flickered to mine before a sheepish grin pasted itself on his face. I giggled slightly, knowing he was embarrassed about his singing. It was fine by me though except for the part where my heart skipped a beat and my stomach was churning like a farmer churning butter.
"One, 21 guns / Lay down your arms, give up the fight / One, 21 guns / Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I," both of us sang, staring at each other intensely. A light blush crept its way to my cheeks. I knew this because he suddenly smirked.
Rhythmically tapping my fingers on the table, we continued singing the song, not caring if we were in tune or not. I tried to ignore my heart playing pinball with my ribs. Actually, I think my ventricles started to malfunction.
"You can't get enough of that song, can't you?" I whispered breathlessly once we finished. My aorta was on a state of drought and overflow at the same time. I was going to have a cardiac arrest soon.
Smiling hesitantly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he answered, "It's the first song I played for you."
Trying to bite back a shy smile because he remembered, I nodded, "Right… even though I asked you to learn Just the Way You Are."
The bitch laughed… rather nervously.
"Yeah and you started pouting."
I bit my lip because for the first time, there was nothing for me to say. That's a lie. I could have said a lot of things but I didn't. I was rendered speechless.
This is one of the times when I had no idea where we stand. This was ridiculously insane.
Insert the awkward silence here. (Let me ask you people, do fairytales even have awkward silences?)
Wow. Well, I'd rather be in the Science Fair right now, discussing our findings from our investigatory project with my other group mates. I'd rather be talking about how pumpkin extract affects the insulin production of the human body while rolling my light greenish gray eyes at the baking soda volcano display due to the inevitable cliché-ness. Yeah, all that boredom would be worth it, as long as I wasn't cooped up in a lab with thick tension in the air.
… I didn't even have to be in the Science Fair! I could've gone to the Arts Fair which was being simultaneously held with the aforementioned boredom-topia. The Arts Fair had food stalls for crying out loud! And-and…there were freshly baked cookies! What the hell was I doing here?! This was pretty stupid of me.
Mumbling under my breath, I stood up and was about to turn towards the door when—
—something hit my left arm, leaving a pink smudge on it.
Furrowing my eyebrows in scrutiny and confusion, I brought my gaze down to the floor. Just in time to see a pale pink pastel rolling away from me innocently. Pfft, innocently my ass!
Muffled chortles brought my glare away from the art utensil to the one who threw it: the bitch. His left hand was covering his trembling lips, completely blocking the pair of dimples on his cheeks that I found completely adorable. His right hand clutched the black counter for support as he continued to quiet down his laughter. If he wasn't laughing at me, I would've kissed him.
In the crazed urge for revenge, I spotted a box filled with oil pastels of different colors. Hurriedly, I got a half of a broken blindingly bright yellow—ugh, so close to a beautiful alliteration—pastel and chucked it at him. To my luck, it smacked his forehead, leaving a messy yellow mark on it.
Elated, laughter erupted from my stomach as I said, "Bitch."
To my amazement, he laughed as well, grabbing more pastels from the box. Grinning like a four year old, I did as well.
Then the inevitable happened. Two words: pastel war.
"Ack!" I squealed as he tickled my sides before throwing a purple pastel at me, leaving an oily color stain on my uniform but I could care less. Before I could retaliate, he ran around, shifting left and right as he dodged past tables and chairs.
"…Bitch!" I cried out in laughter as a rain of pastels hit his torso.
He flipped me the finger before bursting into fits of chuckles, trying to throw pastels back at me. Shrilly squealing silly, I continued to run around, covering my dark hair protectively.
Finally, I stopped to a complete halt and started giggling madly. I felt young and alive again. I felt like there was nothing else for me to do but to have fun and the biggest problem I had to face was to wash the oil pastels away from my hair. It felt amazing, exhilarating and breath-taking to be like this. I never laughed so hard and smiled so wide in my life! My heart was swimming and sprinting and soaring and twirling and somersaulting all at once. And it was all because of him.
I'd be completely damned if this isn't love.
Suddenly, a pair of arms engulfed me from behind into a warm bear hug.
Bewildered, I stifled a gasp. I fitted perfectly like a scoop of ice cream on its cone. I bit my lip when his arms tightened around me and buried his face in my hurricane of a hair. I felt irrevocably safe. Having him hold me was magic. It made me forget about the world and focus on the feeling; the feeling of absolute ease. I didn't want him to leave me.
"Hey bitch," he murmured as his hand toyed with strands of my hair. I tried to ignore the puffs of warm air tickling my neck which made tingles shoot up my spine.
Trying to hold back a shiver, I inserted my hand inside my skirt's pocket and got a handful of what was inside.
"Hey bitch," I said out of breath, as if I was still running in a marathon. Dragonflies, hornets and butterflies erupted in my chest. I gulped. "Taste the rainbow." And the colorful shower of Skittles slid down his head.
Out of shock, he released me and I could barely contain my mirthful laughter. He noticed and headed towards the container of pastels once again. Panicking, I looked around and spotted two empty plastic water bottles. Grinning devilishly, I took both of them and saw his backside facing me.
Finally, he started to turn around and after hastily aiming I chucked the water bottle at his head. It got him in the forehead and I almost squealed in joy but then…I tried to compose myself. I didn't want to sound like Babe the pig.
Instead of looking annoyed or angry, he grinned at me in that mysterious, charming way that literally made me blush especially when his dimples appeared. I threw the other water bottle… only to have him catch it without much effort. I was screwed, to say the least.
Nervously, I took a step back as a precaution. Really, who knew what he had in store in that satanic head of his. His grin slowly changed into a smirk; one that brought my attention to his perfect lips. In anxiety, I chewed on my bottom lip, eyeing him as he started to come closer… and closer… and closer… while I took a step back… and another step back… and another…
… Until he had my back pressed to the wall.
Smirking roguishly, he used his arms to cage me in. I was sure I had the deer caught in headlights look to perfection right then. I swallowed thickly and started licking my lips in habit. It wasn't a bright idea because suddenly, his melted chocolate eyes shifted from my widened eyes to my slightly trembling lips. It felt like I couldn't breathe because I knew well that one whiff of him would drive me demented.
"Bitch," I muttered, my voice sounding hoarse and defenseless. Almost vulnerable actually.
He shook his head in amusement and leaned in closer. My eyes widened even more. My circulatory system was going haywire as adrenaline pumped through my veins. My brain froze. My mouth snapped shut. I couldn't, couldn't think properly. I was feeling dizzy… intoxicated… high. I was on the brink of passing out. Automatically, I let my hair act as a scarlet black curtain, hiding my face.
It didn't stop the bitch though. You know what he did, people? He gently pried of the hair in front of my face and started to stroke my cheek with his calloused thumb. Damn. He really did play that guitar a lot.
"I-I," I stuttered stupidly. "…Where's the black hole when you need it?"
The bitch smiled softly, his fingers tracing my lips and my cheek bones. "Why… can't I stop thinking about you?"
"What?" I squeaked out. Now before you laugh at my face, this was the first time I ever squeaked.
"I dream of you too," he whispered. His eyes followed his thumb that kept stroking my face.
"What?" Okay, make that a second time.
Smiling secretly and bashfully at the same time, his beautiful, intense eyes met mine and he whispered more softly, "I like you."
Those three words made me faint…
…but I melted. My knees couldn't support me. My heart was pounding faster and slower at the same time. It felt like the ground was crumbling underneath my feet. The world stopped.
Searching my face for any reaction, he pleaded hoarsely, "Say something, please."
He hardly looked like he was joking. In fact, I never saw him this serious before… and I got to admit, I found it really attractive.
"I-I-I," I stuttered before swallowing my own spit. I had to tell him. To tell him I fell. To tell him I liked him too. Unfortunately, my mouth decided to be a moron. "If you want me to fall for you, you got to give me something worth tripping over."
His alluringly fervent orbs widened a fraction, not anticipating my statement. It was only for a second because suddenly, he grinned mischievously and leaned in further. And then our lips met.
But he quickly pulled away. Still, I was breathless. Those short milliseconds felt so surreal. I wanted to grab his hair and pull him closer to me, to capture his lips with my own. I wanted more.
"How was that?" he asked, his hot breath fanning my face.
Hesitantly, I stared into his eyes, memorizing each emotion they held. It seemed like I was gazing into his soul. I couldn't think anymore. All I knew was that I liked him and I wanted him to the point it drove me to insanity.
"Joke's on you," I murmured, smiling. "I already fell."
The bitch—no, my bitch—smiled back. His entire face lit up as if I told him where heaven was.
Chuckling amusedly, I captured his lips again. This time it was better. His arm held my waist, pulling me closer and eagerly, I did the same as my fingers explored his hair. He brought my other hand around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Moaning, I nibbled on his bottom lip. The heat between us was nearly tangible. It felt like ice cold water was thrown at me and hell's fire coursed through my veins. My chest was burning. I was pressed between a wall and him. It felt good to feel the muscles under his shirt. We kept kissing, each second we tried to pull each other closer and closer.
As I sighed in content, he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss even more before pulling away.
We were both panting like crazy but we kept staring into each other's eyes. His hair was a mess, shooting up in random angles. Somehow the two top buttons on his polo were undone. I blushed at his disheveled appearance.
"Bitch," he said hoarsely, his lips brushing against my swollen ones.
I grinned at him, "Your bitch."
Now, ladies and gentlemen, this is when we lived bitchily ever after. Huh, and I wanted to go back to the Science Fair.
This is partially based on a true story/experience that had happened to me on Valentine's Day without most of the romance, ironically. This is most likely why I did not want to place any names.
The lyrics above are Dynamite by Taio Cruz and 21 Guns by Green Day, respectively.
P.S. Please bear in mind that this is a fairly old work of mine, kept here for the sake of seeing how much I may or may not have improved.
Copyright Eiya Weathes (Author ID: 697805). All Rights Reserved.