What my boyfriend should be:
1. He should NOT be named Nick, James, and Gareth. He could be named Mark, John, Adam, Rupert, Robert or even John—just NOT Nick, James and Gareth. I can not bear to call my future boyfriend any of my ex-boyfriends’ names. NO. I hate history.
2. He should smell like heaven. It’s really appealing when boys smell really good. And I am technically good in sniffing boys. Sorry.
3. He should NOT be too SUPPLE. He could be well built but not in a foolishly-steroid variety. I’m tired of bulging muscles, you know. They attract a lot of girls, anyway, so I don’t have to be one of those girls. But... Uh-oh, I could reconsider this.
4. He should write me a love song. Because, with my sixteen years of existence and my 3 ex-boyfriends, no one has ever written me a love song. And that’s really sad. I do have love for music. In fact, I can even play the piano with the help of the tutorials in YouTube.
5. He should be taller than me, of course. I don’t want to look down on my future boyfriend. And I mean LITERALLY!
6. He should be a hero! Because…Hello?! Girls do want to be saved sometimes.
7. He should be dark-haired… I don’t know…. I just find dark-haired guys totally attractive.
8. And if he writes me a song, he should also be good in playing a musical instrument. Not drums, really. The guitar will really do.
9. He should take me to the beach. (It’s what couples do in movies. Meet at the beach, anyway. So might as well fit in.)
10. And lastly, and most importantly—HE should be single.
This is what I will follow upon entering my Junior year as a single UNPOPULAR.
Yes, I do belong to the “Unpopulars”. I sit at the corner-most table of our cafeteria with my only dorky friend, David de Silva; I am unknown to people in our school except to a few, maybe, who witnessed a couple of unfortunate trippings of me.
I am a boring person-- though David keeps on telling me that I am not. He’s just being kind, I guess.
I was halfway done from preparing my school stuff for tomorrow when Marco, my only brother who is a year older than me, called out to me from down stairs.
“Skye! Dinner now! Mom says get down here.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” I called back.
“Hurry up! She won’t let dad and I eat unless you’re down here.”
I rolled my eyes and hurried down the stairs then to our dining room. Our dining room has cream-colored walls, with a wooden rectangular table in the middle of the room, matched with wooden chairs as well.
“Sit down, Honey.” Mom said, motioning to my usual seat, which was opposite to Mom’s seat.
“Yeah, so let’s eat.” My dad said. It was pretty quiet until, Dad turned to look at me and asked, “Skye, your first day as a junior tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, Dad.” I said with a pout--which my Dad didn’t buy.
“You too, Marco?” Dad looked at Marco.
“Yeah.” Marco shrugged, “But as a Senior.”
“Yeah. I know that. Anyway,” Dad said, “I couldn’t take you to school tomorrow. I think our Bavarian Motor Works needs to be checked.”
“Stop talking like a car, Dad.” Marco commented, swallowing a bite of lasagna.
“Well, you should know about cars, too, son…” Dad said pensively. “Because you will be taking up Mechanical Engineering, in your college, right?”
Marco didn’t answer. I, myself know that my brother has nil interest on mechanical stuffs, especially when it doesn’t involve surgery. Well, my brother wants to be a surgeon. I noticed him buy medical books and he has like thousands of them in a truck-sized book shelf in his room.
“So…” Mom said brightly, trying to cheer up Marco. Mom, too, knows how much Marco wants to be a surgeon—only Dad doesn’t, he’s mostly oblivious to what happens around him. “I bet you’re going to meet a gorgeous girl tomorrow, Marco.”
And fortunately, Dad bought the change of topic.
“Yes…” Dad babbled, “Did I tell you that I met your mother in my senior year in high school and she really was gorg—“
“WE KNOW, DAD” Marco and I said together.
I drank a glass of water and stood up, “I’ll be in my room. It’s Marco’s turn to wash the dishes today…” I said and I headed off to my room and finished preparing.
Chapter 1
Homeroom; August 5
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It’s never usual for me to get noticed by a HOTTIE, even if he simply noticed me because I tripped right in front of him. Still.
I was late. It was true; our BMW needs to be checked. Dad didn’t take me to school. Marco left at 7. And nobody woke me up. Well, my mom did, before she went to work. But she woke me up at seven thirty and our class is at 8 and the school is half an hour away from our house (Considering the bus ride).
I was late—on the very first day of my junior year.
But I was just so glad. Don’t blame me.
OH, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. That was what I was muttering under my breath while dashing off to our classroom which was the third room on the second floor of the school building. I was about to take a step up the stairs when a guy from upstairs came gloriously down without caution.
I was stunned. He’s a striking guy-- brown-haired with broad shoulders and deep olive-colored eyes. He was even taller than me. I noticed. Everything about him made me forget about the fact that I was supposed to be in a classroom and not there at the stairs watching this guy.
His outrageous upshot on me got my knees shaking and I ended up falling on my knees right in front of that guy with a superman shirt. Damn.
“Are you okay?” He reached out his manly hand to me. But, as striking as he might look like, I think he’s still is a dumb-ass.
“Oh yeah. Sure I am. That didn’t even hurt.” I said sarcastically. “And, anyway… thanks, Superman.” I added while grabbing the hand he offered me. I shot a look at his Superman printed shirt but I guess he didn’t even notice because then,
“Wow.” He said to me.
“Wow, what?” I asked incredulously.
“You know me.” He shot me a killer smile of his, and added, “I’m new here.”
“Excuse me?” I asked him again, still not changing the expression on my face.
I know him????? I’ve never met such a glorious looking guy as head-turning and knee-tripping as him. So, what is he talking about?
“I’m Mark Superman.” He stretched out one of those manly hands, again, to me.
And I laughed. I LAUGHED. Hahahaha. Mark SUPERMAN, are you kidding me?
He gave an expressionless look at me when I realized that I have said my thoughts aloud. “I am NOT kidding you, Miss.” He said, taking back the hand he had put forward for me.
“Okay... Okay...” I said raising both my hands up as a sign of surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you…”
“It’s not my fault my family name’s Superman, you know.” He looked at me with those sincere green eyes.
“..Right.” I nodded with faked sympathy. “Then whose fault is it then? Your—“ I stopped when the school supervisor, Prof. Wilkins, spotted Mark and I chitchatting.
“Aren’t you late, Miss Mills?” She said, I turned to look at her and I notice her perfectly drawn eyebrows. “Uhh…” I looked down. “Yes, Prof. Wilkins.”
“So? Go off now to your classroom or you’ll have detention at your very first day here—“She stopped when Mark butted in.
“Excuse me, Prof. Wilkins,” Mark started to say, to which Prof. Wilkins tended to hear immediately.
“Yes, Mr. Mark?” She smiled sweetly. Gosh, she’s flirting. OUR SCHOOL SUPERVISOR IS FLIRTING WITH A NEW STUDENT. This isn’t right. GROSS.
“Actually, Miss Mills here was showing me my way to my new classroom.” He glanced meaningfully at me as if to say you-owe-me-big-time. “It was really kind of her even. I lost my map and I couldn’t even find you in the campus until now… so I asked Miss Mills… when I saw her pass by…” And blah, blah, blah.
You know what??!!
This guy is really superman. I’m not even kidding. He just saved from detention. A detention for my very first day as a Junior. Hah!
“Okay.” Prof. Wilkins said, still painting up that sweet yet gross smile on her face. She turned to look at me and said, “So you won’t have detention, Miss Mills. And… Mr. Mark, now that I’m here… I’ll be the one to take you to your new room now.” She grabbed Mark’s arm and tugged, uhh okay, dragged him down the stairs to take him to his room. And I was left there still absorbing the scene I had with Mark.
MARK SUPERMAN.
MARK SUPERMAN.
MARK SUPERMAN.
KATHERINE SKYE SUPERMAN.
Funny.
When I took my seat inside our classroom, I immediately took out my list about my ideal guy as if to take down notes. But who takes down notes during Homeroom, anyway? Nah. Whatever. And that’s when I checked Mark’s potential for being my ideal guy.
Here…
1. He should NOT be named Nick, James, and Gareth. He could be named Mark, John, Adam, Rupert, Robert or even John—just NOT Nick, James and Gareth. Check. Though his name is funny, still he isn’t named Nick, James or even Gareth. So, good.
2. He should smell like heaven. It’s really appealing when boys smell really good. Haven’t smelled him yet. K
3. He should NOT be too SUPPLE. He could be well built but not in a foolishly-steroid variety. Check. Well, okay, not sure… I need to check if he has abs. But like I said, I could reconsider. That is if his manliness would make my bones jump.
4. He should write me a love song. Because, with my sixteen years of existence and my 3 ex-boyfriends, no one has ever written me a love song. And that’s really sad. Even if I’m a gym girl, I still do have love for music. In fact, I can even play the piano with the help of the tutorials in YouTube. OH. NO.
5. He should be taller than me, of course. He is. J
6. He should be hero! Hello?! Girls do want to be saved sometimes. Uhhm. He’s SUPERMAN, anyway. And he saved me from detention. K
7. He should be dark-haired. I don’t know. I just find dark-haired guys totally attractive. He is. O_O
8. And if he writes me a song, he should also be good in playing a musical instrument. Not drums, really. The guitar will really do. I have no idea, yet. O_o
9. He should take me to the beach. (It’s what couples do in movies. Meet at the beach, anyway. So might as well fit in.) Ha- as if!.
10. And lastly, and most importantly—HE should be single. I guess he already has a girlfriend. Someone as good-looking as him could have any girl he likes. So, maybe… he’s NOT single. K
FOUR OUT OF TEN. Hah! Not even half of it. I was analyzing my scene with Mark this morning when a paper, clearly torn out from a notebook on spring, appeared right in front of me. The handwriting was clear. It was David’s.
Why were you late, She-male? :P –David
David. Well this guy is my only friend in this school. Believe it or not.
I know… I know… I get to talk with other people but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they ARE already my friends. I am real picky sometimes. And David, I found out, really suits me best. As a buddy, I mean. I’ve known him since Eighth grade, anyway. He sat beside me at lunch once and he talked to me. He’s easy-going and real funny. It felt like heaven to me, back then. Because nobody ever eats with me! Yeah, people pass by and wave “Hi!” and then snigger, but only David ever sat right there with me. These people think that I am a health freak or something, just because I’ve worked for years in a gym that promotes good health by exercise and disciplined diet. I believe they just freak out because these people here are NO-vegetarian or something. Sometimes, I even think that they are more than carnivores—they’re cannibals. But aside from that? I think they all know me as the TRIPPING freak.
I smiled to myself as I scribbled down my reply to David’s note. I passed it secretly as Mr. Chester cracks out a joke that the whole class have laughed on to. Except for David and me, anyway. We were in our own little world.
Got caught up, Dorky. That’s all.- Skye
He doesn’t have to know about Mark, really. He’s not so open when I talk about boys to him. He thinks that I am merely giving insinuations on his fellow male species. That is so not, anyway!............ Well, maybe.
You sure?
I’m pretty sure. Okay?
Okay then. Lunch together, later, okay? As usual?
Yeah. But you shouldn’t be thinking about lunch right now, you know. It’s still our first period in the morning. Ha ha ha!
Nah. It’s fine. Five more minutes and we’ll be on our second period… Ha ha ha. So?.... How was your vacation?
Fine. Same as those good old years… gym-house-gym-house type. You? Never heard so much ‘bout you, really, until you went to Europe .
Yeah. I was with Granny. She made me visit places there. But, really, we stayed in London
Yeah… That’s great.
Yeah… I missed you.
I felt myself blush for that. I can’t even begin to explain why. Maybe that’s because we’ve grown up from being eighth graders and stuff, that it makes me look at David like he’s… well, a man now. Not that he’s a gay. NEVER.
He even looks hot in his white V-neck and black leather jacket that he’s wearing now, and his jeans really fit him… especially in that very best place.
It’s just odd, for me. But David has always been open to me, from telling me that he secretly loved listening to Taylor Swift songs to telling me the print and color of his newest boxers. Well… that’s him and that’s how he treats me. And I’m pretty much okay with that.
But when I was about to write down “I missed you too”, the bell rang. And before I knew it, David hurried out the door for his next class. And so, I sighed and barged the note into the secret pocket of my backpack. I’m off to my Trigonometry class now. And I realized I have been dragging my feet. Maybe that’s how reluctant I am on attending a class that highly involves mathematics.
The class was boring. And this is the only class that I and David don’t have in common.
So with no one to talk to… I totally dozed off. It’s good to sit at the back sometimes, really. Lucky.
When I woke up, the class was over. Students were dashing out of the white painted classrooms. I searched for Mark from the crowd but I did not spot him. Half of my day went on without that SUPERMAN. And that disappointed me so much. And, unfortunately, I think I know why.
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