Have you ever played the game "Your Story," where you choose a character and make life-altering decisions? If not, I recommend it. I played one called "Mean Girls," and while it was entertaining to navigate the virtual drama, confronting such characters in real life is an entirely different challenge.
"Look who we have here. Isn't it the school belle—or should I say, former belle?"
I groaned internally at the sight of the bane of my existence strutting toward me. She was the embodiment of the game's antagonist, decked out in a garish yellow mini skirt, a blue crop top, and a matching jacket—her makeup caked on like a Barbie doll, though her demeanour was far from plastic.
And let's not forget—it was the peak of summer.
"Sylvia," I muttered, the name leaving a bitter taste. I suppressed the urge to spit in disdain.
"The one and only," she replied with a haughty air, as if she were royalty. It made me wonder why every school seems plagued by such mean-spirited individuals. They thrive on attention, and Sylvia was no exception.
"So, are you participating in this activity? I saw one of your friends—the ostrich-looking one—buying a diary for you," she sneered, a clear jab at Carrie.
I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction; that's precisely what she craved, a chance to revel in her disruptive antics.
"You're mistaken, Sylvia. That extra diary might be for someone else. She's not seeing anyone, is she?" remarked one of her companion, Triza. Triza and Emma were nothing more than lapdogs awaiting their master's command.
"But she bought three of them," Emma chimed in, eager to stir the pot.
"And what exactly do you think I'll write in there? It's not like I'm dating anyone," Silvia mused, and I wondered whether Sylvia was truly an adult or just a petulant child in a grown woman's body.
"You know, I just realized something about your name," I began, drawing their focus.
"Maddy is short for Madison, Tanya for Ty, but you..." I paused, feigning deep thought. "Let's see, Sylvia. Silly, silly girl, silly mind, silly, silly, and silly," I quipped, watching as Sylvia's face turned red with rage, her minion struggling to stifle her laughter.
Sylvia was the college belle, her light skin a product of chemical treatments, her figure the envy of many. She had the looks, but her personality was the antithesis of her outward beauty.
"Annoying, isn't it? But that's your name—annoying, just like you. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, please..." I grabbed Tanya's hand and brushed past Sylvia, deliberately bumping her shoulder.
I paused briefly to add, "By the way, Carrie is a peacock, not an ostrich. But I wouldn't expect a duck like you to know the difference." I pulled Tanya and walked away, her laughter ringing freely.
My joke may be childish, but seeing the look on Sylvia's face was a victory in itself.
"That was epic!" Tanya exclaimed. "You totally blew her away."
"I'm fed up with her nastiness. Let's head to the library and tackle this assignment," I suggested, eager to put distance between us and the unpleasant encounter.
...
Evening descended more swiftly than anticipated, and an unfamiliar eagerness to return home welled up within me. Typically, post-class hours would find me nestled among books in the library or meandering through the campus, camera in hand, capturing whatever whimsy caught my eye.
Yet today, a novel sensation stirred—nervousness, a certain edginess, and the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. It wasn't the prospect of home that sparked this inner tumult, but rather the anticipation of seeing him again.
My cheeks flushed with heat at the mere thought of our impending encounter.
Should I wait until tomorrow?
The internal debate was almost comical, and I found myself snorting softly, a bashful smile spreading across my face. The intensity of my feelings only amplified as I approached the forked path leading to his residence and mine.
Should I detour to my place first, change out of my day's attire before facing him? Yet, as if possessed by their own volition, my feet steered me toward his abode—not so humble, it seemed, as the clamour of hammering reached my ears from afar. Curiosity piqued, I pressed on.
"Nick?" I called out, nudging the partially open door wider. The din was too loud for knocking to make any sense.
Stepping inside, I halted, taking in the disarray. The place was in utter chaos, belongings strewn haphazardly as if a whirlwind had swept through.
"What on earth?" I whispered, navigating the obstacle course of clutter. A fleeting, absurd thought crossed my mind—could Nick be a burglar rather than my neighbour? I dismissed it as quickly as it arose.
The racket had ceased. Lifting my gaze from the floor, I found Nick standing there, clad in a grey vest, a hammer in hand, nails clamped between his lips. His eyebrow arched in silent inquiry.
"Oh no, did I interrupt you? Of course, I did. I'm sorry... I should go..." I babbled, inwardly chastising myself for this impromptu intrusion.
Would he peg me as the nosy neighbour type?
"It's alright, beautiful. I was just finishing up," he replied smoothly, his words momentarily disarming me. As I regained my composure, the warmth of his pet name washed over me once more.
"Um... It's Mandy, remember?" I reminded him, half-wondering if he'd forgotten my name.
"I know, but 'beautiful' suits you," he countered, rendering me speechless once again, my cheeks aflame.
"And you love it when I call you that, don't you?" he added, a hint of playfulness in his tone.
Oh my! This man would be the end of me! I silently exclaimed, struggling to maintain a composed exterior. Of course, I revelled in his compliment—it sent me soaring!
"Well, no woman wouldn't enjoy being called beautiful by a... a handsome guy," I blurted out, almost biting my tongue. The words had slipped out unintentionally, and I braced for the inevitable boost to his ego. His smirk confirmed my fears.
"You think I'm handsome?" he probed, his intense gaze challenging me as he leaned casually against the wall.
"Do you think otherwise?" I deflected, his chuckle breaking the tension.
"So, what brings you here?" he asked, pushing away from the wall and setting the hammer down before moving to another room.
"I was just passing by and heard the noise," I lied swiftly, mentally patting myself on the back for the quick thinking.
"Thought your house was being robbed, so I came to check—being the good neighbour that I am," I added, hoping to dispel any notion that I had come specifically to see him.
"Sorry about the mess," Nick apologized, returning from the other room.
"Thieves, huh?" he queried, tilting his head to one side before stooping to gather some scattered cartons.
"Yes, it's not every day we hear such commotion," I replied with feigned confidence.
"And if you were right? Were you planning to confront them like Cat woman?" he teased, catching me off guard. It dawned on me then how ludicrous my cover story sounded. Any rational person would have called the police.
"You must be quite the guardian of the neighbourhood, or is it just me you're looking out for?" Nick asked, a cocky lift to his brow.
"Ha, in your dreams," I retorted, suppressing the smile that threatened to break through.
"I guess I didn't think that through," I admitted, a wave of embarrassment cresting over me, only to be met with his good-natured laughter.
"Why is the house in such disarray?" I asked, clearing my throat and scanning the cluttered space, eager to steer the conversation away from my own embarrassment.
"I'm giving it a bit of a facelift. The old place was showing its age and needed some freshening up," Nick responded, tossing more debris into the trash can beside the couch.
"I noticed. The previous owner was..." I trailed off, searching for the right descriptor, but Nick interjected.
"Filthy," he said bluntly.
"Right... 'Filthy' was the word on the tip of my tongue," I admitted, though 'lazy' had also crossed my mind.
Bob, the former tenant, was the type you'd avoid at all costs. His escapades with various women were notorious, their nocturnal activities audible enough to disrupt the entire neighbourhood.
"Oh, look at that! You're installing soundproofing!" I remarked, spotting the incomplete insulation work.
"Does that put your mind at ease?" Nick chuckled, his amusement evident as I turned to face him.
"Immensely," I confessed. "You know, Bob's nightly... endeavours were hardly a secret."
"You mean his sexcapades?" Nick's frankness caught me off guard. It was exactly what I meant, but hearing it said aloud was another thing entirely.
Pull yourself together, Mandy.
"Yes, exactly. It was unbearable. Our ears suffered as much as he seemed to revel in his pleasure," I said, cringing at the memory.
Discussing such matters, particularly with Nick—the man who'd unwittingly become the object of my affections—was far from comfortable.
"Would you have preferred to join in the fun?" Nick teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.
I nearly choked on my own breath at his insinuation, prompting a hearty laugh from him teasing me.
Nick's laughter erupted at my reaction, a rich, melodious sound that resonated deep within me. It was really hard to put my heart to bay with the sound of his laughter.
My daydream shattered as he playfully tousled my hair, murmuring "cute" with a teasing grin. The gesture was reminiscent of a scene from a K-pop drama, where the dashing lead affectionately ruffles the hair of the endearing heroine.
"Hey, I'm not a child, stop that," I protested, pulling away from his touch, only to instantly miss the comforting warmth.
"You sure look like one," he retorted with a goofy smile that somehow managed to be both infuriating and endearing.
"What did you just say? That I look like a child?" I couldn't hide the dismay in my voice. The thought of being perceived as childlike by my crush was mortifying. The last thing I wanted was to be relegated to the 'little sister' zone.
"Hey! Look at me properly. Do I really look like a child to you?" I challenged, my tone a mix of offense and playful indignation.
Nick paused, his eyebrow arching in amusement at my reaction. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he gave me a thorough once-over, his gaze lingering in a way that set my skin ablaze. It was a look that made me feel seen, truly seen, as if he was peeling back layers with just his eyes. When his gaze finally met mine again, the intensity was almost palpable.
"Do you like what you see?" I asked boldly, hoping to break the tension that crackled between us.
His smirk deepened. "Very much," he replied, his voice low and affecting. Those two simple words sent a thrill through me, awakening a bashfulness I didn't know I possessed.
Was it the weather, or was it just the heat of the moment that made me feel so flushed? I shifted awkwardly, releasing a nervous chuckle before bending down to help him clear the clutter.
"Let....let me help with that," I offered, my voice slightly shake.
"No, you don't need to. It's filthy..." Nick protested, but I was already lifting a box filled with cotton scraps.
"That's what the washing machine is for. Besides, it's about time you took advantage of this kind-hearted neighbour," I quipped, gathering the remaining items that could fit into the box.
I heard him exhale a resigned sigh before joining me. "Then, you should make me some of those homemade cupcakes. They were divine," he said, a hint of playfulness in his tone.
His appreciation sent a wave of joy through me.
"You liked them? I'll definitely make more—Aaah!" My words turned into a shriek as panic took over, and I leapt onto Nick. My arms clung to his neck, and my feet, unfortunately, found his. I knew I was causing him discomfort, but fear had overridden all rational thought.
It wasn't enough, though. The sense of danger was too much that having my feet on his didn't feel safe; I clambered up, legs wrapping around his waist, clinging to him as if my life depended on it, my head buried in the crook of his neck.
"What... what are you doing?" Nick's voice was laced with shock and confusion. Poor man, probably wondering what kind of a nut case he got himself involved with. Meanwhile, I was trembling, gripped by terror.
"G...ge...there's a...gecko," I managed to stammer out. I was a shaking mess and imagining my nemesis in the same room as I did not help.
Nick fell silent for a moment before responding.
"You mean the gecko?"
"Please, just get rid of it," I pleaded, my embrace tightening.
I could sense Nick moving about, the rustle of items on the floor signalling his attempt to address the situation.
You don't need to worry, it's gone," Nick assured me, and I let out a sigh of relief.
"What was it even doing here?" I muttered, more to myself than to him, but I felt the rumble of his laughter against my cheek
"I forgot I had an appointment with them in," Nick quipped with sarcasm, prompting an impulsive nip at his neck from me. I hadn't even realized what I'd done until I felt his body...
It then dawned on me what position we were in. The masculine scent with sweat didn't disgust me, surprisingly. How intimate our position was.
With my arms around his neck, and legs wrapped around his torso. That wasn't just it. I didn't notice before, but now that my mind was clear, I felt both his arms on my bum and to make the matter worse, I just bit him on the neck.
Holly Molly!
I couldn't react nor dared to face him. What was he going to think of me? Ever since we met, I kept acting like a weirdo, and now I was becoming a cat by biting him.
"Mandy," I heard him call my name for the first time. His voice was deep, strained and hoarse that I thought he was mad. Snapping out of my daze, I unwrapped my legs and let go of him, taking two steps backwards in panic. I almost tripped from the boxes but stabilized myself.
"So...Sorry, please, oh my goodness! I just...I didn't mean...my mom told me that I used to b...bite people when I was young...yes, that's why when you made that joke, I didn't think..." I was cut short by Nick's laughter.
Oh, this is so embarrassing!
"So you go biting everyone because your mother told you that you used..."
My face flushed, feeling wishing the ground could swallow me alive. What kind of excuse was that? Someone shoot me, please! I cried internally.
"Please don't make fun of me," I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
How was I even supposed to look him in the eye? I felt like running out of his house and locking myself in my bedroom forever. I felt a warm hand grabbing my wrist away from my face. I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his, and there he was in front of me.
"No need to be shy," he coaxed, but it only made m burn in embarrassment. His next action, though, had me freeze. It was when he dipped his head next to my ear. His deep, husky voice then spoke,
"I love wild cats," and I gulped. I knew I was done for. He then walked past me, leaving me all riled up and so damn turned on.
"Are you helping me, or are you backing out already?" his voice snapped me from my trance, and I started moving.
Should I thank my fears of reptiles this time?
Yep. Totally lost it.