I didn't want this match made in hell to happen. I don't want a love life. I'm looking for work. And now I'm contemplating this decision because I'm keen to know and can't decipher anything right now. I'm being dragged by my friend because I trust her, and it may get worse at this point. Hardluck. This is something I regret.
"Hey! Hey, wait up!" yelled Melinda, her voice echoed and could be heard in every room in the corridor. She's chasing after those guys, no, 'that' guy.
She has a firm grip on the man's wrist and shows no signs of letting go.
They are all staring in awe.
I....AM.....EMBARRASSED. I'm literally exploding within. CONCEAL. ZOE, GET A GRIP. IT'LL BE OKAY.
"Yo! Sorry for interrupting. Mind conversing with us for a bit?" Melinda asked, catching her breath after all the running around just for me to get to know that man.
I DO NOT WISH TO SPEAK TO THEM AT ALL.
"Yeah! Sure, why not? Up for it, guys?" says the man. They all nodded, which meant they all agreed.
We walk back through from the second floor to where we were before. On the bench under the aspen tree.
Why would she invite all of them when only one guy is necessary? Seriously?
"So... What's the roll call?" the man inquires.
"Nothing at all, but, Hey! Yves! Meet my friend, Zoe," she said with a grin and raised eyebrows. Strange.
"I told you not to address me by that Nickname; Theo would suffice," he frowned, and he began to stare at me. "Nice meeting you," he added.
"Yeah," I said. That's all I have to say. I don't want to offer him my hand or shake his hand. Never in all of eternity.
I was startled when Melinda suddenly grabbed both my and his hands and placed them together, as if she was instructing us to initiate a handshake. Did she possess telepathy? What I don't want ends up working in her favor. Shit.
He abruptly moves his hands away.
There's something within him, and his gaze pierced my flesh like a glazier. Which makes me even more inquisitive about him. I was certain that he's not fond of me. Is he sickened, or is he simply estranged from me for some reason? I can't read him at all; if he appears, why? When we've only recently met and know each other? 'I want to know more about him,' I think at the time. Would that hurt my desire to comprehend more about this person and indulge with him?
My mind was filled with questions about him after that. There are many whys for which I can't find an answer; I knew I'd only find out if I asked him, but I lack the courage to do so. I also don't have anyone who can answer my question.
--
It's now time for extracurricular activities, and he's actually quite popular. I assumed he'd be the type of person who is solitary. Perhaps he has saved some interpersonal skills for some reason, given his befuddled demeanor.
A distant whistle; a signal of gathering. The sun was about to set, and the atmosphere was exactly what I was looking for. A cloudy but comforting breeze blew across the horizon. Moment of silence, I felt compelled to embrace it and close my eyes, but when I came to senses, someone simply said, "Save the sentiments for another day, now is not the time to slack off." It was him. Did God send this man to become my pristine nemesis? I wonder. I got away without saying anything.
"Now that everyone has gathered, I'll divide you into eight groups of six members each; okay? Pay attention to the number I'll assign and call you."
Why, first and foremost... Do I really need to be paired with this guy and separated from Melinda?
Well.. Tennis is entertaining. At least I don't have to run this whole course. That's what I assumed. However, the words struck my ear like lightning in the woods, destroying my faith. Screw it. Here I am running two laps in the course for what our professor defined as a 'warm-up.' The curricular hasn't started yet, but I feel like the grim reaper is about to dispatch me.
[FUCK..... FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS] I cussed at my inner thought out of resentment and had no intention of screaming obscenities at it.
I pant heavily as we finish, and now we only get five minutes off? What the hell happened?! Did this professor plan to kill birds with one stone? It is not good.
The others used to recover gradually, whereas I am feeling utterly pathetic. I suppose I need to work on my stamina.
"Hey. Form up there and stop being a wimp. If you want to go get some water, you might as well just headhome because I don't think you'll survive here." His stare at me was careless, as if he planned to torment me. This scumbag. How vast was your rage for me, like I'll get drifted into a clift by it? In any case, we're only barely acquainted. Narcissistic.
I walked towards him because I'd had enough. He kept ditching me. I didn't even bother him. He's insane. "Well, let's see if I can catch up; I could care less about a jerk's machievalliant two-face nature." I respond with a sarcastic look and walk away.
"That rascal..." he said, covering half of his face. "Well, if that's not enticing enough..."
-
"All right! The first two members of each team will play each other separately. Louise and Zoe. Matthew and Jake. You Louise and Jake should earn a point, as should you Matthew and Zoe. Only three matches, first to score 5 points!" Instructed by our professor and set to where we're supposed to start.
[Since his name is Matthew, his nickname is Theo. Then there's Yves. It has no effect on his personality. A 'Trash' would be more suitable.]
"It would be an alternate from Louise, your next opponent Zoe, will be Jake, and you'll decide who to fight first, Jake or Louise," the professor suggested. I'm not concerned with who goes first. Whoever they are, I'll take them.
"I'm not taking it easy on a girl," Jake said as he rolled the tennis ball.
"I don't want your certainty; if you want to go all out for nothing, I don't care; stop treating us as if we're incompetent." I respond competitively. "Sir, I'd like to duel with Louie first," I clarified.
"Very well, Matthew should take Jake then," the professor says as he's about to blow the whistle. That the game has finally started.