CHAPTER 17: The Art of Letter Proposing
Ace's POV:
"Wait, she letter dumped you? I'm telling you, letter dumping... So not cool."
"Yeah, letter proposing.... not so cool either."
"Uh please, it's an art. The art of letter proposing. So romantic," Vivian sighed.
Psst. This is not proposing. I'm not proposing to her. Wait, am I?
I'm just writing a letter to tell her how I feel, how I really feel. Telling someone about how you like them a lot isn't proposing.
I looked online, 'Proposing definition'
propose
/prəˈpəʊz/
verb
gerund or present participle: proposing
1.put forward (a plan or suggestion) for consideration by others.
2. make an offer of marriage to someone.
I'm doing neither. So that means, I'm not proposing.
With that in mind, I started writing my letter.
I took the pen and paper and sat down.
Dear Jane,
How are you feeling?
I cut the line and threw away the paper.
Too lame.
Sup Jane. How you doing? Wanna patch things back up, even though we never broke up?
What the heck am I writing?
So, what do you say we say sorry and everything goes back to how it was.
Ok, I'm pathetic.
I scribbled at the paper in frustration.
"You know what you should write? Here- Dude, stop being a baby and give up the attitude. You know you're going to come back. Why the drama?"
That's really rude. Also, it makes him sound like the wannabe bad boy. The one that kicks girls to the curb just to prove a point. I could smell the cigrattes and taste the drugs in that sentence.
I took out another paper but my mind decided to play a movie. A blank movie. There was literally nothing I could think of.
This is useless. I'm clearly bad at this and I'm going to blame it on the fact that I've never done this before. Also, the two idiots hovering over my head are making me extremely self conscious.
"Stop with the staring," I shouted at Vivian and Mason who were hovering over my head.
They banged their heads against each other.
"Ow!!" They shouted at the same time before turning to each other. I bit my lip as I watched them rub their heads.
"Fathead," Vivian shoved him after she noticed that he was standing a bit too close.
"Yo, don't you dare get the wrong idea. I'm not interested in the least bit," He said straight to her face.
"Of course not, you're interested in knowing little Ollie's favourite colour, her favourite food, her favourite song. But she wouldn't give you the time of her day," She smirked.
Ooh, burn.
"You really want to go down that road?" He turned to her once more, "At least I'm not the one who's going out with the guy who placed a petty bet on me."
I felt guilt brewing inside me faster than Espresso. I'm not proud to say that I was once somewhat a part of it.
Mason noticed my pained expression and cringed, "Sorry man. But then again, it was not your fault-" He rambled on.
Well, it kind of was. According to the bet Luca, Aiden, Adeel, Noah and I had to woo Vivian. The first one to steal her virginity wins. As simple as that. Cliché, really. Adeel was the one who suggested it. The guy gets his kicks out of doing all sorts of fucked up shits. Said he wanted to try the thing rich guys did in movies. Noah firmly said no. I followed his lead. The other three full on turned their attention to her.
I didn't know her back then. So I didn't say anything. But then again what could I have said to a girl I didn't know? 'Yo, stay away from those guys. They ain't good.' Damn, that would've been so cool.
Or CREEPY AS HELL.
I felt bad for her after she kind of, sort of, became my friend, so I told her. But it was too late. Somehow the whole school knew and it was on the front page of the school's unofficial site.
"In conclusion, you never partook, in any way, in that bet. Hence, you're clean."
I gave him the most weirded out look I could muster.
"What are you? My lawyer?"
"It's who, not what," Vivian chimed in, "Excuse me for being a grammar Nazi. And this isn't doing any good. Let's go out for a while. Maybe that'll help."
Hmm. Maybe that's what I need. I get up and reach for the door.
"No," Mason protests as he flops down on my bed, "I'm too tired to go anywhere. Can't we stay here for a bit more. I love Ace's bed."
I know how easily that sentence could be molded into something completely inappropriate.
"Ok, I get that you love warming Ace's bad but he's not in the mood for you today, Okay?"
And there it is.
"Talk about homophobia," He muttered, still not making a move to get up.
Vivian huffed. After a moment of silence, she grabbed Mason by the collar and started dragging him out the door by it. Damn, this girl is strong. I could see Mason actually struggling.
"Wow, you love womanhandling men, don't you?," Mason squinted at her as he freed himself from her.
"Either you go or I make you," Vivian threatened and Mason gives in after I promise him a meal.
As we walk down the grand stairs leading to the foyer, I see Mom talking to someone I've never seen. He doesn't look like a business associate or a worker. His black eyes meet mine and the crooked smirk on his face gives me the chills. Mom notices and stops talking.
Strange.
I ignore them as we walk out.
••••••••••
"What do you want?" Mom smirked at me as she caught on my annoyed tone. Nonetheless she continued swirling her wine in her custom made glass. She stopped to inspect her perfectly manicured nail wrapping around the glass.
"I thought we should talk, that's all" She replied and I raised my brows at her.
She never wants to talk about anything unless it's something that she wants from me.
I sat in front of my mother's desk in her office. When I came back from my day out with Vivian and Mason, I saw my mom waving a blue envelope as I entered the house. I immediately knew it was from Jane as soon as I saw it. She always sends me her letters in blue coloured envelopes while the ones I send her are pink.
Now that I think about it, it's really unfair that boys can't like pink. I mean I like pink. I want the pink envelopes. Talk about gender equality.
She never interfered with anything that had to do Jane.... or me, for that matter. She only bothers me when she needs something. I'm really sceptical right now but there's not much I can do about it.
"Isn't it obvious?" She put the glass aside, "You need to start participating more in the business. You're sixteen."
Why does she sound like the villain mom in the movie about the billionaire and the average middle class girl?
Probably because she is.
I snickered internally at my thoughts.
"Not yet," I reminded her, "And when have I not participated in the business."
Ever since I was a kid, dad used to take me everywhere with him. And as unbelievable as it sounds, I kind of liked it. Everytime I went there I learnt something new.
"Look whatever it is that you want, I'll do it. But for now, I gotta go," I snatched the letter from the table and walked out the door before she could protest.
As soon as I was out the door I felt pure relief, relief that I was still alive.
That woman is scarier that the ghosts in Courage the cowardly dog.
I looked down at the paper in my hands. I can't believe she sent me another one... What could she have written? Is it her taking back her words? Did she not mean them? Was she angry when she wrote the last letter?
Damn, I've got a really optimistic view towards life.
My stomach knotted the way it does when I finally get a candy after haven't had one for a long time. My heart did a somersault in my chest before jumping up to my throat. In a good way.
I wiped my sweaty palms against my pants.
Wait, I can't do this. I can't open this letter. Not before telling her how I really really feel.
I took out a fresh sheet of paper.
To the girl who makes my heart pound
I neatly folded the paper.
I thought of spraying my cologne on the paper. Wait, or was it the girl who did that? Is it too creepy?
Who cares?
I sprayed my cologne on the paper.
Would it even stay after two days?
I sprayed some on myself. Well, we'll just have to wait to see.
I quickly put the letter in the envelope and gave it to one of the workers at the house.
I quickly walked back to my room and pulled the letter out of the envelope with sweaty hands. I unfolded it and started reading.
The name was scribbled on the top.
Congratulations! We are proud to inform you that you've been accepted into Pandora Academy.
I didn't read any further. My heart felt like it was about to physically break through my chest. This is actually happening. This is real. Somehow she still wants to see me. She isn't mad anymore. Hopefully, not as mad as before. She's coming here. She gave me her flight number. She wants me to pick her up.
I felt like I could cry and laugh and then cry some more before fainting. It almost felt like a panic attack except it felt so damn good.
I sat there for what felt like 5 minutes, probably cause it was, before my brain started conjuring up a scenario in my mind. The exact one where I'd meet her. The one where I'll lift her up in my arms and twirl her around. Maybe kiss her. Or is that too forward?
I think it's the equivalent of kissing a girl on a blind date. That's not forward.
••••••••••••
My leg shaked on its own accord as I half sat on the seat in the waiting lounge of the airport.
I was a whole half an hour early. Her flight should land at 2.23. Right now its... I looked at the watch to check...2.14.
Someone tugged on my jeans and for a moment I thought I was about to be molested before I looked down to see a little girl maybe 8 or 9 in a bedazzled pink outfit that flowed really smoothly and her brown hair in a high ponytail. "Hello Mister"
She had more style than any model I've ever seen.
"You're really handsome," She didn't blush like I imagined a little girl would after telling a random stranger that.
It was me who blushed and just to be polite I muttered a small "Thank you." hoping she'd walk away.
"You look like Prince Charming. Wait, are you here to take me with you? Where's the white horse?" She demanded with her small hands on her waist and I laughed.
She is really cute.
And she reminds me of a certain someone.
"Where's the ballgown, Cinderella?" I teased.
She waved down at her outfit, "This is more beautiful than any ballgown Cinderella could've ever worn." She sassed, "Now let's go to the ball."
Fair enough.
"Well, Prince Charming only dances with a damsel in distress. Are you one?"
"A damsel in a what now?" She looked confused.
"A girl who's in trouble. You know, how Cinderella was always harassed by her stepmother and sisters. Like that."
"I'm not a damsel in sistress and I don't want to be one, ever," She flipped her ponytail.
Definitely just like her.
"But I still want a Prince Charming," She peeked up at me with wide doe eyes.
"Well then you'll have to wait for one. Cause I'm booked. Somebody's already called dibs on me."
"Dibs is for kids," She scoffed, "But okay, I know how to take a sign. So I'll back off.... but who's the witch that got dibs on you."
She tried to look uninterested as she checked out her nails...some attitude....but I knew better.
"She's my Cinderella."
I like to think that but for some reason she always tells me she's my Prince Charming. Would that make me her Cinderella?
I don't want to be anyone's Cinderella.
"Is she a damsel in sistress?," She really looked curious.
"No, she's kinda like you but what can I say? First come, first serve," I half-joked.
She made a face before gesturing to the welcome sign I made, "Is that for her?" She asked.
"Yes," I replied looking back," I'm meeting her for the first time today."
"First time after so long or first time first time?," She looked half perplexed.
"First time ever," I grinned at her.
I always wondered what our first meet would be like. I know she did too. As I think about her letters, I remember her saying that the guy always picked the girl at the airport. The guy would have a cheesy banner in his hand, held above his head where the world can see. Then she'd walk through the door with her hair flying from the wind I've no idea where it came from. Then she'd remove her aviator glasses. When I asked her why aviator glasses. She simply said that every smartass girl wears bombass aviators. I smile a full tooth smile.
I had the banner by my side. It was handmade and covered in all sorts of pearls and glitters and god knows what other stuff that Vivian lent me. It looked good enough. It had multiple scribblings. I felt like a child, a little guilty to go all out. I'd scrawled in my handwriting-
"I must be at the airport cause I just heard my heart taking off,"
"This is the dumbhead looking for his smartass girl in the bomb ass aviators,"
Prepare to be tackled with hugs.
And in the last it was-
Guess who is excited to pick up a random stranger at an airport? This guy
With a slot for my head in it and two thumbs pointing at me.
I check the time. It's 2.24. Come on.
I looked up to the display system. It simply said delayed. No ETA. Just delayed. The little girl looked up too and gave a look that almost resembled sympathy.
I could've cried out of frustration right there.
I took a few deep breaths. It's okay. You've waited so long. You can wait a few more moments. I wanted to screech. Not shout or scream. I literally wanted to shriek.
I waited and waited. I checked the time again on my watch. It was 3.13. Now. Oh, this is getting me nowhere.
"You're rich." She pointed to my watch.
And for a moment, I jumped back.
"Oh, you're still here," I wanted to say but instead I asked, "What makes you think that?"
"The rolex watch on your hand. Maybe those clothes you're wearing or maybe your whole I'm above you all aura," She waved around me.
I look down to see my button up and jeans.
"These look like regular clothes." I decided to leave my aura out of this.
"Please, I can smell branded stuff from a mile away. And that shirt's most probably Ralph Lauren or Dolce&Gabbana,"
Smart kid.
"You must have the means. Don't rich people always get their way. Go and get your girl."
"Are you going to be okay alone?" I didn't even know where this kid's parents were. Is she lost? Should I help her look for them?
"I'm not alone," She played with her ponytail as she pointed towards the seating chairs. Surely enough, a woman half-sat, half-slept there. Huh.
"Now you can go," She shooed me away.
Well, I could. I look around to call my bodyguard but before I could, my eye caught the display and it read, "Check info counter"
Wow. Strange.
I walked through the crowd of people to the info counter where I saw a few other people were headed. It's actually funny how they say in movies and books that when a mishappening is about to occur, it is always accompanied by the person having a feeling of unease and unsettlement or even dread.
I never saw it coming. It was like a splash of frozen cold ice.
A few people were crying and the staff was giving their condolences to the people. A woman came up to me and said," The flight from San Francisco that was expected to arrive today has crashed. We're sorry for your loss."
THE END.
Ok, that's it. I just wanted to show how death can impact everything going on in our life. It's inevitable. Many people don't know how to cope with it. But life happens and people die everyday and that's the reality. Get over it.
JUST KIDDING!!!
This is the most bullshit I've ever spewed in my life. This book ain't over. What I will say is that Charlie did not survive the crash. Consider this like an intermission.
Adios.
(Listen to the song by Selena Gomez. I love it!!!)
Also, I'm soooooo sorry for not updating before. It's just that I gave my exams, they didn't go so well. And now I'm grounded. No phone. Lovely, isn't it. I'll try to go back to my updating schedule which is once every week. But no promises.