Because love and infatuation are things that easily cloud our minds by making us hyper-aware of our hearts. Because even the most straightforward love story easily becomes plagued with plot twists that a rational person would laugh at. Because the stupid situations we all get into when we are in love makes us want to ask just where the splendor is. And because high school love is the most deliciously confusing of all, I present to you the "One Hundred Days to Graduation" series.
Author's note: The stories are fictional, but still based on my experiences as a high school student. Any similarities with real life are probably intentional, so there. =p
Unrequited
Part One
Even though there was a lack of cliched cliques depicted in cheesy high school movies, that doesn't change the fact that there are some people who were not destined to meet in high school. Different schedules, different social circles, basically, completely different lives made it unsurprising to Milette Cruz that she had never spoken to the intriguing figure sitting at the corner of the student lounge. She had caught sight of him a number of times in the past, but it was the first time she found herself studying him in the same way he was intently going over the contents of the notebook he had been poring over all afternoon. He wasn't perfect, or anything, but the way that his wavy black hair cast shadows over his already dark and brooding features made him seem all the more enigmatic to her and she was drawn (quite ironically, in her opinion) like the proverbial moth to the light.
And because she wanted to get to know him, she did what any normal person in high school would do, she asked around about him and stalked him like an obsessed fangirl.
While it would have been easier to ask him his name in person, it was infinitely more practical to wait a few days and ask her dear friend, the epitome of unassuming notoriety, Elise Vella, about him. After all, what were popular friends for? Of course, Elise had all the answers Milette needed, even the boy's mobile phone number; which, in hindsight, seemed to be more important than his name (which happened to be Daemon Ewing, by the way) at that time.
"Nice guy. Kinda eccentric and a bit of a pervert," Elise had described Daemon with her usual knowing smirk painted on her deceivingly innocent face as she jotted his phone number down at the back of Milette's Biology notebook. "But I'm sure if you're not too creepy, he'll answer your messages."
So, encouraged by these words, Milette did the sensible thing and sent Daemon a text message.
And Daemon replied and the rest, according to this story, is history that is far too mundane to tell and was only worth mentioning in passing because that was how everything began.
Now, the real problem began the way all love stories begin: with a twinge. Milette felt it when she first saw Daemon and she continued to feel it, albeit with increasing intensity, as she and Daemon developed a friendship that wouldn't have been possible had the social marvel that is text messaging not been invented, yet. When she found herself literally dropping her pen while writing an important article for the school paper to jump for her phone and read what she knew would be Daemon's "goodnight", Milette decided that she was falling in love. So, once again, she did the pragmatic thing. She sent text messages to her trusted friends, asking them to meet her for lunch the next day and brooded the night away.
High school current events were always less important than high school love.
Author's note: The stories are fictional, but still based on my experiences as a high school student. Any similarities with real life are probably intentional, so there. =p
Unrequited
Part One
Even though there was a lack of cliched cliques depicted in cheesy high school movies, that doesn't change the fact that there are some people who were not destined to meet in high school. Different schedules, different social circles, basically, completely different lives made it unsurprising to Milette Cruz that she had never spoken to the intriguing figure sitting at the corner of the student lounge. She had caught sight of him a number of times in the past, but it was the first time she found herself studying him in the same way he was intently going over the contents of the notebook he had been poring over all afternoon. He wasn't perfect, or anything, but the way that his wavy black hair cast shadows over his already dark and brooding features made him seem all the more enigmatic to her and she was drawn (quite ironically, in her opinion) like the proverbial moth to the light.
And because she wanted to get to know him, she did what any normal person in high school would do, she asked around about him and stalked him like an obsessed fangirl.
While it would have been easier to ask him his name in person, it was infinitely more practical to wait a few days and ask her dear friend, the epitome of unassuming notoriety, Elise Vella, about him. After all, what were popular friends for? Of course, Elise had all the answers Milette needed, even the boy's mobile phone number; which, in hindsight, seemed to be more important than his name (which happened to be Daemon Ewing, by the way) at that time.
"Nice guy. Kinda eccentric and a bit of a pervert," Elise had described Daemon with her usual knowing smirk painted on her deceivingly innocent face as she jotted his phone number down at the back of Milette's Biology notebook. "But I'm sure if you're not too creepy, he'll answer your messages."
So, encouraged by these words, Milette did the sensible thing and sent Daemon a text message.
hi. cre 2 txt?
And Daemon replied and the rest, according to this story, is history that is far too mundane to tell and was only worth mentioning in passing because that was how everything began.
Now, the real problem began the way all love stories begin: with a twinge. Milette felt it when she first saw Daemon and she continued to feel it, albeit with increasing intensity, as she and Daemon developed a friendship that wouldn't have been possible had the social marvel that is text messaging not been invented, yet. When she found herself literally dropping her pen while writing an important article for the school paper to jump for her phone and read what she knew would be Daemon's "goodnight", Milette decided that she was falling in love. So, once again, she did the pragmatic thing. She sent text messages to her trusted friends, asking them to meet her for lunch the next day and brooded the night away.
High school current events were always less important than high school love.
3 comments:
dear, wala pang next? =p
Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the Smartphone, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://smartphone-brasil.blogspot.com. A hug.
ah! high school love! Brings back memories! Especially the whole watching a guy thing and the whole being excited over every little response from said crush. Although the remark of him being a bit of a perv would have sent warning bells. Wonder what will come of this guy.
http://torre85.livejournal.com/
Post a Comment