Normal day at a friend’s house, the meeting place of the
group, a group formed by our English teacher and not by our choice because if
it were the Prom King wouldn’t be in the same group as me, the least fashionable
girl in my High School who knew only one accessory and that was her humongous
glasses. The project was to create our own version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and
Juliet and then present it in class. It was the group’s third meeting already
and we were on the scriptwriting stage. Everyone had their paper and pen except
for June who had pencil because, according to her, the sound of the pencil
against the paper made her feel an intelligent student. We all sat in our own
corner where we felt comfortable and peaceful, and now and then we read out
loud what we had written to keep everyone aligned with the flow of the story. I
was working on the part where Romeo first laid eyes on Juliet when I heard someone
said, ‘Love at first sight? Shakespeare must be high when he wrote that part.’
I turned around and found Prom King sitting behind me doodling on his paper. I
looked at the others but all heads were bowed down and all hands were working
they didn’t seem to hear what Prom King said, or maybe they did but they chose
to ignore him. I couldn’t. ‘First of all, I don’t think Shakespeare was high
when he wrote his book. And second, I don’t care if you don’t believe in “love
at first sight” but that doesn’t give you the right to judge a writer,
especially not Will.’
‘Will? Are you two that close?’
‘Whatever. It’s useless talking to a guy like you. You’re
just a living body with a plastic crown on top of his head. You don’t know
anything about love, and if you do your knowledge of it is nothing compared to
Shakespeare’s. Though, you’re very knowledgeable about hurting women.’
‘Hurting women? Look who’s judging now.’ I ignored him this
time and went back to my writing. I’m not really a member of the Shakespeare
Book Club but I respected the man and I thought he’s a great writer. ‘You
believe in L.A.F.S, huh?’ he commenced again.
‘But you’re not so sure of it?’ The previous conversation
was the longest I’ve had with this guy I didn’t think he’d be so interested
talking to me that he would speak again.
Maybe he was just so bored with the writing process. ‘What do you mean?’
I asked.
‘You’re wearing those huge glasses,’ he said pointing his
pen to my specs. ‘I think it’s to make sure that the guy you choose to fall in
love with at first sight would be a good-looking guy, or at least someone who’s
presentable.’ If he wasn’t talking to me he could’ve gotten a slap in the face
but since it’s me, very patient, he got a smile instead. And I thought that was
a good sense of humor, or maybe not, but the way he smiled while saying it made
his words sound like a good joke.
‘I don’t base love on good looks because if I do then I
would be one of your stalkers.’
‘You think I’m good-looking?’
‘To be honest, I do. Only you’re shallow.’
‘Why? Because I don’t believe in love at first sight?’ I shrugged
because I didn’t know what to answer. ‘So, if I believe in love at first sight
then I won’t be shallow anymore?’ I shrugged again I really didn’t know what to
answer it’s like the answer was in between yes and no. ‘If you can prove me
that love at first sight really happens then I’ll take what you think of me –
shallow. But if you can’t then you’re shallow.’
‘I don’t need to prove you anything. I told you I don’t’
care what your beliefs are.’
‘Let’s pretend that you and I are a couple,’ he said
lowering his voice. The others were
still very busy writing. I realized how important for him to prove that he’s
not shallow and there’s more to him than being “just
the guy with a good face.” He’s willing to ruin his reputation – because he
would once he’s seen with me – only for me to take back what I said. I felt
guilty for regarding him in such way. ‘Everyone would freak out they’d think we’re
playing games and that’s when we tell them it was love at first sight.’ He
paused and shook his head, ‘No. I don’t think they’d buy it. I’ve seen you more
than once and I never felt a thing for you. Sorry.’
‘Why are you apologizing? I’ve seen you a thousand times and
I never felt a tiny bit of a thing.’
‘We’re even then. How can we make them believe?’
‘We’ll tell them that it was the first time we noticed each
other and once we have, BOOM! We fell in love.’ I couldn’t believe I worked
with him on this.
‘Then we’ll make a survey. If the number of votes who bought
it was really love at first sight is higher, you win. But if the number of
votes who didn’t believe it was love at first sight, that we’re just fooling
around is higher, I win.’
‘All this to prove you’re not shallow?’
‘All this to prove I’m not just a living body with a plastic
crown on top of his head.’
‘I can take it back right now you don’t have to risk your
reputation.’
‘Being the Prom King is not a reputation.’
‘What is reputation to you?’ A pen flew in the air hitting the
tip of my glasses. ‘You two are not taking this seriously this is due in two
weeks,’ one of the members said. Prom King picked the pen and threw it back to
the owner like a football. It hit his face marking it with black ink. ‘You hit
my girl again and I’ll hit your face with my fist,’ he said. Everyone was stunned
they all wanted to speak but they didn’t know what to say. I, too, was shocked.
The experiment had begun.
The next school day WE were together. We sat next to each
other on the school bus; he never took the bus because he had his own car but
on that day and forth he rode it with me and sat beside me. I felt all eyes on
me – OK, not on me but on him. He was on his feet before we reached the bus
stop I thought maybe he couldn’t stand having all these passengers witness that
he’s sitting with someone like me. I thought right when he got out without
waiting for me. But I was wrong because he did wait for me; he was standing by
the bus door and surprisingly spread his hand before me like Prince Charmings
do in fairytales. I took his hand and together we walked to our first class and
deep into our experimentation. People started talking about us. Rumors, doubts,
envy spread all over the campus. Everywhere I go MY Prom King was there. Yes,
he was now MINE. I was invincible with him beside me. Nothing changed in my
superficial look but a lot changed in the way people saw me, in the way I saw
myself. I wasn’t ugly to be fair to myself. I had blonde hair and
tender-looking eyes only no one seemed to notice them with my glasses on.
Beside Prom King I felt more beautiful. I felt desirable. And I felt tall. With
all these new feelings I wondered how he felt with me by his side. Maybe he
felt less beautiful. Less desirable. And a lot shorter. ‘This feels good, with
you by my side,’ he said during lunch at the canteen. ‘I feel…I feel.’
‘Good. Really good. Like a real person.’ I was wrong again. I
never understood what he meant because I’ve never been popular in my entire
life. But whatever he meant I was happy that even though this was only an
experiment I was able to make this beautiful boy sitting right next to me feel
good. Really good. Like a real person.
Luckily for me he didn’t have a girlfriend at the time we
were doing this experiment because if he had I would’ve been in BIG trouble.
But why did I feel so relaxed, secured? In my little private room, I wondered
staring at my low ceiling how far this guy would go doing this experimentation
with me. Will he ask me to…? I punched
myself in the head and quickly I fell asleep.
I woke up in the inviting aroma of omelet. It’s Sunday and my
mum cooked omelet on Sundays only. I didn’t know why because I never asked.
Maybe it’s to remind me that it’s Sunday and it meant Family Day and not
Friends’ Day. ‘Good morning, Sunshine! Or should I say, Omelet. You’re mum told
me it’s your favorite,’ the Prom King said.
‘Yeah, it is. My mom’s omelet.’
‘Honey, you didn’t tell us you have a boyfriend.’ Excuse my
mother it’s her first time to receive a guest without wearing eyeglasses.
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ I stood in the stairs watching him
prepare breakfast with my mum. My dad and my brother were there too, and every
five seconds dad gave him a tap on the back while my brother gave him high
fives. He seemed to handle my weird family really well which wasn’t good
because this was ONLY an experimentation and I didn’t want my family involved
in it. I looked at him then to the corner then back at him. He got my sign and
we talked in the corner.
‘Cooking,’ he said comfortably.
‘Why are you here in my house? It’s Sunday you should be
with your family. You’re not supposed to be in here.’
‘Baby, have you forgotten? I’m your boyfriend your family is
my family.’
‘Experimentation, that’s all we are. And I told you not to
call me by that name I’m not your baby.’
‘We have to play it well if we want a good product, don’t
you think?’
‘I’m with you in everything just don’t involve my family. Tell
them we’re not together and leave.’
He told my parents we’re not together but he didn’t leave
after that. Mum asked him to join us for breakfast. After breakfast he still
didn’t leave, dad asked him to check out his car and see what he – my “boyfriend”
– thought about it. He later played basketball with my little brother. He only left
after dinner. The whole day I watched how he played with my family. My parents
didn’t believe we’re not together even after he had told them the whole thing
was just part of our school project; they liked him and they enjoyed his
company.
I skipped school for two days and stayed in my room for two
days. He came to my house the first day but I didn’t speak to him, mum told him
I wasn’t feeling well. The next day he came again we talked this time. I told
him the experimentation was over.
‘But we’ve been together for barely three weeks no one would
believe our relationship was for real,’ he sounded really concerned, not with my
health but with the possible failure of the experimentation.
‘Why? Did I do something wrong?’
‘I told you not to involve my family. I asked you one thing
and that one thing you failed to do.’
‘But I did what you told me I told your parents we’re not
really together. I stayed because I was just being polite.’
‘It’s over. Tomorrow we go to school separately if your
friends ask you what happened tell them you didn’t know what you were thinking.
Or tell them it was just a bet thing that’s what happens in movies.’
‘It’s not over. We’re not over until I say we’re over.’ He
left very angry. I didn’t know why at first, but when I went to bed that night
I realized that this guy was the Prom King and he’s not used to being dumped
even in experimental relationships. Me dumping him was a disgrace, a slap to
his reputation. So I talked to him the next day and agreed to be dumped by him
instead. What kind of a girl would agree to such arrangement? The kind of girl
who was beginning to fall for a guy she knew she could never have. I was
confident I wouldn’t fall for the Prom King that’s why I agreed to do the
experimentation with him. Everything was just plainly for fun. I was curious
and wanted to know how the girls felt dating the most famous guy in school. But
that’s until I saw him with my family and the day he started calling me baby. Who wouldn’t fall for that? Who
wouldn’t feel nervous standing next to a very good looking guy? Who wouldn’t
hide a smile while he carried you in his arms because you hurt your ankle in PE?
He looked serious when I talked to him. He told me to meet
him at the field during his football practice. There he would dump me in front
of his friends and their girlfriends plus those who would be watching the
practice. I felt numb walking in the field with all the people staring at me.
He stood in the center waiting patiently. He took off his headgear and threw it
to the ground. We stood face-to-face. Silent. Everyone looked at us I looked at
them too, then I noticed their heads moved upward something in the sky caught
their attention. They all looked to the sky some pointing to a particular
direction I followed that direction and saw a huge piece of cloth hanging in
the air with necessary bundles of balloons to lift it up tied on each end.
Written on it were the words I LOVE YOU.
‘You once asked me what reputation to me is.
Having the heart to tell the girl what I really feel about her despite
what others will think of me, that’s reputation.’
I found out that the Prom King had been in love with me for
so long and he had been wanting to tell me
how he truly felt only he didn’t know how until he came up with the
whole experimentation scheme. He planned to skip the class on the day our
teacher grouped us so that he could choose the group he would like to be in and
he chose the group I was in. The experimentation turned out to be a success
though not in the way we had agreed. We did the survey after his romantic act at
the field just to find out what the whole campus thought of it. I proved to him
and everyone love at first sight was real. Later, he told me he did believe in
L.A.F.S. because he felt love the first day he saw me; pretending not to
believe in it was just part of his plan. Whether who’s shallow and who’s not
didn’t matter because the Prom King was officially mine.
