Lost at a Certain Angle (Kagakuro)

It was nothing special, really.

He was my classmate. I sat behind him. We were in the same club. Of course, we were bound to become friends, one way or another. I just-I mean-

Sigh.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Wait, more like, Who the hell am I talking to?

My goodness.

Well, might as well go back down memory lane. You know, just to show you (whoever or what you are) how all this insanity, madness and utter ridiculousness (if there's even such a word, which I doubt) came to be.

You know, this outrage called falling in love.

(As you may have or may have not observed, your narrator-specifically me- likes using the expression, 'You know,' and abuses the Ctrl + I key waaay too much. See?)


the beginning

He was very noticeable among the crowd. Well, duh, he was tall, well-built, and was emanating this aura that practically screamed, 'I AM A FREAKING JUVENILE DELIQUENT AND IMMA KICK 'YA FACE!'

His face was his downfall, really. He's not ugly, he's not plain, but he's not exactly a girl's idea of a dashing, charming prince either. And his whole being was too ferocious for a cool, mysterious bad boy feel too. He looked scary, frankly put. In summary, the students (even those from the upper years and maybe even some teachers), be it girls or boys, avoided him like he was the human form of the plague or something. Weirdly enough, that just attracted me to him like a moth to a lamp. I was quite smitten really, though I didn't realize it back then. But well yeah...

I stalked him.

As for me ending up in the seat behind him, that was purely coincidence. And me signing up for the Basketball Club when I saw him submitting an application form to that particular organization was a coincidence as well. Also me becoming his lab partner, me becoming his tutor, me becoming his co-committee member, and his little sister's babysitter...

Um, I think it was around that time he grabbed me by the collar and demanded to know if I was stalking him or something.

(As for me becoming his sister's guardian, now I really didn't expect that. My mom just told me to babysit this kid so I did. I seriously had no idea, really. SWEAR.)

I won't play the shy, in-denial card here. Yeah, I was kindamaybealittlebit stalking him. But at least I wasn't like those other creepy guys! (You know, the ones that break into your house when you're not around and like, sniff your underwear and stuff. Eww, that is so unhygienic.) But if I admitted it then, it would be very awkward, seeing as how I am always around him. (And we weren't even friends yet!) So I did the next best thing.

I jabbed him in the stomach and proceeded to tell him the following statement: "You're such a stupid idiot."

Needless to say, he gave me a fantastic black eye and I left him with a deformed gut.

On a brighter note, that was the beginning of our ever close but weird as hell friendship.

(If you could call bickering with each other 24/7 friendship, that is.)

We exchanged phone numbers though. And we went to eat out sometimes and we played basketball and we hung out in each other's houses and played games and did pranks on the seniors we didn't like and took care of a stray dog and studied (or crammed) together on the nights before the exams and went home together after club hours and played in matches and-and-and-

I am starting to sound like a dumb, foolish, mushy, (and therefore disgusting) romance novel heroine so I shall stop.

...But I sure have it hard, huh.


down the middle

Cupid really did a number on me. He gave me those pukish (but slightly giddy) butterflies-thingy whenever I saw or even brushed fingers (Fingers! For goodness' sake!) with him. Then Cupid decided to further humiliate me by turning me into this... this... horrible, disgusting, atrocious, horrendous, horrid, embarrassing, degrading piece of blushing mush!

The horror... Oh goodness, the horror and humiliation of it all!

I am sooo thankful that I'm expressionless most of the time. (I guess spending most of my childhood with my aunt who's a professional poker player actually taught me a thing or two. Note to self: buy her a new poker set for her upcoming birthday.) Otherwise, I would surely be busted. But there was this one incident, however, that left me in quite a sputtering (and, once again, degrading), blushing mess. It still haunts me to this day. (And makes my heart beat a fraction of a second faster, but, ohwellwhocareslet'signorethatnothingeverhappen ed!)

It was like this:

Club activities had just ended and we were both sitting on a bench, exhausted from all the things we did. (No sexual innuendo intended.) Our coach had been in a bad mood so she decided to pour all her frustrations on us. ("Dammit all, run faster!") So there the two of us lay, panting and sweating all over. (I repeat, no sexual innuendo intended.)

And we were in charge of putting the equipment away.

Sigh.

"Hey..."

I looked up to him as I was drinking from my water bottle. His eyes were very much intense and smoldering and sexy-I mean, ignore my last word-and they were too much for me to handle. My heart felt like it wanted to rip itself out from my ribcage or something. I looked away from him, put my water bottle away from my lips and settled for a response like this, "Hmm?"

Then, he, like, started leaning into me.

Leaning into, is serious stuff, I tell you. It denotes seduction and passion and is the equivalent action of the sentence, "I WANT TO SEDUCE YOU."

It's different from leaning forward because that is nothing more than an ordinary action that is necessary for a human being to do in order to achieve some daily tasks like, for example, leaning forward to see the writings on the blackboard better.

See?

But that time, he was leaning into me.

His face slowly came closer to mine but I boldly faced him with my usual deadpan look. I couldn't speak, however. And I was breaking out into a cold sweat.

Charming, I know.

Then he went on to crash my trance 'cause he grabbed my water bottle and broke out into raucous laughter. After drinking, he smirked at me and said, "Hey, are you like in love with me or something? I mean, seriously, you were so-" he made an imitation of a lovesick face then he laughed some more.

I was positively annoyed so I grabbed my water bottle and poured the contents on him. "Please don't be so cocky, Mr. Tigger."

He kicked me in the stomach and I poked both of his eyes as hard as I could.

Maybe that incident wouldn't seem like such a big deal. But if you've never seen him before, then you won't really get my drift. Remember what I said in the beginning? He's not a dreamboat prince and he's not some cool, dark bad boy either...

Now I've finally figured out what he is.

He's a fierce, wild animal.

And he's devouring me bit by bit.

Thus began the ever more complex tangle of feelings I developed for him.

The fact that only the two of us (yes, just the two of us) were friends didn't help matters as well. We were becoming really close, to the point that both our families were getting to know each other. It was awkward and very much troubling for me, but I won't deny that I felt ridiculously pleased by the situation. He even told me we were best friends! (That is, after some teasing and poking by yours truly. And he grumbled the words out. Oh well, he was adorable, so no complaints there.) And yet, something inside me rolled its eyes at me and whispered, You're not seriously considering letting it end like this, are you?

Of course I didn't want to be stuck as a best friend forever. But I'm smart. I'm sensible. I'm strong. I'm freaking untouchable.

So I had to hide everything and let it go...

On the outside, at least.

But in my heart?

I'm quite sure that is medically, phsically, mentally, and emotionally impossible.

Trust me, I'm an engineer.

(My father is, actually.)


on that angle in the road where you know you're near your destination

We are now in our current situation.

And by current situation, I mean, me with my eyes wide open and a hand over my mouth, my body trembling and sweating bullets all around.

This is probably the most expressive reaction I have ever shown in years.

"You... what?"

"I said nothing. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

As I was attempting to walk away nonchalantly, he grabbed my arm roughly and pushed me (a little hard, if I may say so) back to the wall. I winced as my back collided with the hard surface.

Contrary to what you may be imagining, he is certainly NOT trapping me with his arms on each side of my body or pinning my wrists or any other perverted, sadistic notion you may be conjuring up in that pretty, little, romantic head of yours. He was just standing in front of me (in his full height, which is very much intimidating and scary as it is) and his eyes (those deep, smoldering, scorching eyes) were glaring at me . I gulped nervously and suddenly found the ground very, very interesting. Silence permeated the air and things went on like that for a few minutes, until he gruffly said, "Repeat what you said. Now."

It is so wrong and twisted of me to be thinking of this in such a moment but, oh, what the hell:

His voice is incredibly attractive.

And seductive.

Never forget seductive.

Ah, there goes my last piece of sanity.

"Excuse me?"

I didn't say that out loud, did I?

"My voice? Attractive?"

Oh, I did.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

"There you go again, jumping to conclusions. What I said before and-well, what you just heard-are just mere slips of the tongue. You need not mind them. Now, please excuse-"

I hate being interrupted. I seriously do. It's the most irritating thing in the world for me and it's my biggest pet peeve. I mean, when someone wants to talk, you let them talk, and you listen.

And vice versa.

But I guess it's not so bad to be interrupted after all, if what's interrupting you is a pair of rough and slightly chapped lips that tastes slightly of the burger you offered him awhile ago during lunch, and those lips happen to be upon your own pair of lips.

I guess going to the chapel everyday was worth it after all.

"It's funny, don't you think?"

"What's funny?"

"Those mushy, love nonsense. I mean, falling in love the first time you see a person? That's just stupid."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't think love is all that simple. You can't just suddenly have feelings for a person..."

"I agree. I did not know I was in love with you until you punched me in the face."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Well, daaaamn.

"You... what?"