Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Romance

                       Chapter 15 
          “……Used to be friends.”
           Chris could feel the stress that had been building up in him from earlier evaporate into thin air. He felt relief beyond belief. 
          What was he so worried about again?
          He wanted to laugh at himself for worrying over nothing. 
          He noticed that Bea had used the past tense 'used'. Did something happen for them to no longer be friends?   
          “What happened?” He asked. 
          Looking down at her book, Bea shrugged, saying, “…...I don’t know what happened either.” 
          Chris could tell that she was deeply saddened over the loss of friendship just by her tone alone. She was no longer sitting straight, her back slightly hunched, making her look even small. 
          “Eric can be very hard to understand sometimes. Even I don’t understand what goes through his mind at times.” Chris said as the entire fight he had with Eric played back in his mind.
          “I don’t trust John.” She suddenly said, changing the subject.
          Naturally, Chris questioned, "Why?" 
          “He just so suddenly appeared and became our principal a year and a half ago. No one has even heard of him...... I’m not questioning his capabilities but something about him just seems off to me." Bea explained her suspicion.
          Chris wondered, there seem to be much mystery surrounding John. 
          Sitting down besides her, Chris asked, “Is that why you are so against participating in the event?”
          Bea looked up at him as he crossed his legs and Chris thought for a moment that she would move away just like earlier, but she didn't. 
          She hesitated before saying, “...... That has nothing to do with John, It’s the date of the event I have a problem with......" 
          Chris perked his ears, he listened attentively as Bea carried on to say, "......It’s on the day of my parent’s death anniversary.” 
          Chris turned to look at Bea wide-eyed. The truth was dropped on him so suddenly Chris didn't know how to react. Rendered speechless, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.          
          Chris was filled with the crushing feeling of pity as he dwelled on her predicament. 
          How long has she been alone? Chris felt his heart clenched at that question alone. 
          “I’m sorry.” A word of condolence was as much as he could muster.
          Bea smiled at him. “It's been 3 years. And every year, I’ll go and visit them at their grave. I just can’t take part in the event on that day.” She had a hint of sadness in her voice. Chris wouldn’t dare to imagine how she must feel.
          “How did they..….?” Chris thought out loud. He didn't finish his sentence before Bea interrupted him. 
          “A car accident.” She said softly.          
          Chris looked at Bea in utter shock. He was at a sudden lost of words, again. 
          The quiet atmosphere of a library was supposed to be a perfect place for the mind to concentrate, but Chris's was currently running in all directions, restlessly. 
           Frowning at himself, Chris closed his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. He opened them and looked down at his opened palms. Guilt consuming him as he contemplated his actions of the past few days, he felt tremendously bad for agreeing to help John to convince Bea to participate in the event. 
           He doesn't remember how long he spent in silence, when he turned to look at Bea, she was no longer sitting cross legged, she had her legs reclined, the book prompted on her knees, held in position by her hands. Chris wondered how that sitting position could be confortable without hugging one's legs. 
          “It's noon and I haven’t had a single meal today, I was wondering if you would like to go out to grab a bite?” Chris asked. He thought if anything, food will definitely brighten a person’s mood. 
          Bea looked fine but who really would be after having to tell such a depressing past. He wanted nothing but to cheer the girl up. And what better way than to fill up one's stomach? 
          Bea seemed to not hear what he said at first, she looked up at him confused.
          Scratching the back of his neck nervously and looking in every other possible direction but not at the girl, Chris cleared his throat before repeating, “I’m asking if you would like to have some food with me?”
          He could feel his cheeks burning up as he waited anxiously for a reply. He has never felt so nervous in his entire life. 
         Seconds passed and upon receiving no reply, Chris turned to look at Bea.          Her long hair covering her profile, she was staring down at the book in her hands and for a moment Chris wholesomely believed that he was about to be rejected because of a book. 
         On the verge of giving up, Chris stared in disbelief as Bea stood up suddenly.            After shoving the book back into the shelve amongst the other books, she looked down at the still very much in a daze Chris.
          “I would love to!” Bea exclaimed as she shot him the biggest smile she could offer. 
          If you had asked Chris to describe what he felt at that moment, or what exactly went through his mind at that time, he wouldn't be able to tell but the boy definitely felt his heart skip a beat.                     
                    XXXXXXXXXX
          Eric stared at his cell. His phone was completely out of range. 
          He briefly remembered the last person he contacted was Chris. Chris had asked if he was in school and he truthfully replied that he preoccupied.
         Eric didn't think too much then but he was starting to wonder if he had made the wrong decision to even reply to Chris. Eric hoped that Chris would leave it there and not go looking for him.
          He let his hand that was holding onto his phone fall to his side as he took a lazy 360 turn to take in his surroundings.
          He was currently inside an abandon office building. There was a lot of shattered glass and wood, accompanied with broken furniture and business equipments. 
           Taking in the familiar sight once again, he recalled always hiding in this building whenever he had a problem he couldn't talk to anyone with or when he simply felt down. To others, the abandoned building is just ruins, but to him, it is his hideaway. He would always come here to think. He found the mess, destruction and chaos a perfect representation of his state of mind. Being here, he could think and stay calm.
          Eric was glad that the building has not been demolished and is still standing, even after all these years.
          Suddenly, the phone in his hand vribated, yet again reminding him of his current dilemma, he had left so suddenly last night, it completely slipped his mind that he would need a power bank, now his phone is about to die.
          After deciding that it was time to leave, Eric set his dying phone on airplane mode to prevent anyone from contacting him. He has made up his mind and the last thing he wants is someone calling, convincing him to change his mind and ruining his plan.          
          He exited the building from one end of the broken down walls, most probably a direct result from coming in contact with a wreaking ball. He couldn't leave from the door even if he wanted to, Eric has found out from a long time ago, that it wouldn't budge no matter how hard he pulled or pushed. 
          He proceeded to his destination on foot. Not needing any form of directions as his feet habitually lead him along the way. It was before dawn and the roads were quite and borderline peaceful, save for the crickets and their antiques that annoyed him. 
          Eric arrived at the residence he used to live in when he was younger around 6 in the morning. Naturally, even his father would still be asleep at this time. So he decided to wait outside the house until the doorman opens the front gates.
          Eric waited a whole hour, falling in and out of sleep, before the doorman opened the front gate and found him sitting outside on the concrete ground.
          “Young master Eric?!” The doorman called out, startled, to find a human right outside the gates.
          Eric waved at him before standing up and brushing the dirt off of his pants.
          Walking up to the man, Eric asked, “Mr. Pollo, is father in?” 
          Still very startled by the unannounced arrival of the third son, the doorman accompanied Eric into the house, completely disregarding his other duties. 
          “I believe he is still in the middle of his breakfast right now.” He answered respectfully.
         Until today, Eric still couldn't get use to the formalities of the household. Mr. Pollo was at least 20 years older than Eric, yet he treats Eric as though Eric is a class above them.
          Seeing he was being followed, Eric stopped to tell the man, “It’s ok sir, I know my way around.”
          On behalf of all of the servants, Mr. Pollo exclaimed, “Oh young master, I haven’t seen you in over a year. We have all greatly missed you.” He threw his hands up in the air to express his glee. 
          Eric was sure if not for the boundaries and rules that Mr. Pollo and all the other servants are bound to, the man would have hug him there and then.
          It’s true that Eric hasn’t returned to this house for over a year and he was sure that all of the servants he grew up with would be delighted to see him, but today, he wasn’t here for a reunion or to have tea with his father, in fact, it was quite the opposite, he was here to confront his father.
          "Allow me to accompany you just this once." The man requested. 
          Even though Eric would have preferred to go alone, seeing how sincere Mr. Pollo was, it was impossible for him to turn him down.
          Mr. Pollo ended up accompanying Eric all the way to the dining hall, where all meals in the household takes place. 
         Mr. Pollo wanted to open the door for Eric but Eric stopped him, saying he would do it himself. The man bowed before retiring. 
          Upon being left alone, Eric looked at the beautifully carved door and gulped audibly. Imagining his father just behind this door, he took a deep breath as he pushed the heavy door open. 
          His father was sitting at the far end of the only long table in the room. The rectangular table could fit up to 8 guests on each of the long sides of the table. Servants lined up behind him, waiting to attend to his every need. The room looked more like a ballroom than a dining hall with how spacious it was. 
          Eric walked up and stood at the other end of the long table. It was a comfortable position for him. The distance the length of the table provided between him and his father was enough and not intimidating. 
          Eric could see that his father had finished his food. The plate and large bordeaux glass both visibly empty. 
          Eric gulped one last time before speaking in a loud and clear voice, “Father, I need to talk to you.” Breaking the uncomfortable silence. 
         His father wasn't the least bit fazed at his sudden appearance, nor was he in any way excited. It gave Eric the false sense of belief that his father had expected his arrival. 
          Looking at Eric with a stoic expression, his father simply tilted his head to his right, one of the servants behind him immediately took a step forward.          His father then rested his right elbow on the arm rest of the chair, cupping the glass by its bowl, his father raised the empty glass up as a sign. 
         The servant efficiently retrieved the bottle of wine from the iced bucket from a table tray a few feet away, within a few seconds, the waiter was elegantly pouring red wine into his father's glass. 
          His father exchanged one look with the servant pouring the wine, the servant nodded and after filling the glass 3 quarter full, he instructed the other servants out of the room. One by one each of them exited from the only other door leading to the hallways to his father's right.           
          When they were finally left alone, his father brought the glass to his mouth as he took a sip, after savouring the taste, the man said in a low and demanding tone, “I’ll listen until this glass finishes.” Letting no room for argument.        
         “I’ll take part in the event for you.” Eric said quickly as his father took another sip. 
         Holding the glass by its stem and watching the wine swirl as he rotated the glass with his fingers, his father asked sternly, “If there were to be a competition, can you say for sure that you will win?”
          Eric grew nervous. “Yes…...I can.” he answered unconvincingly. Extremely exhausted due to the lack of sleep last night, he started to miss words.
         Eric watched as his father took another sip, however, this time it was a much larger mouth and the glass was already almost empty, openly showing his dissatisfaction with the way Eric had answered his question. 
         Eric could only clench his fists in frustration as his father finished his drink. 
          “I won’t allow a second place to represent the school.” Eric heard his father gravely say as he placed the empty glass on the table, indicating that Eric's time has ran out and their conversation has officially ended.
          Eric felt every little hope and confidence he had in him shatter as his father got up from his seat and headed for the door. Eric had spent the entire night coming to the resolve which led to him being here right now. He has made up his mind that he’ll face his father, if he gives up now, all his efforts would go down the drain. 
          “Father!” Eric called out with all his resolve. His father was about to open the door when his hand on the door freezed. The man tilted his head slightly in Eric's direction.
          Both hands on the table, Eric leaned over the table before continuing, “......If l become first in the upcoming exam, you will have to let me participate!” He stared at his father determinely. 
          All this while, Mr. Letmere wouldn't even offer him a single look. 
          Saying nothing, not denying nor confirming, his father opened the door and walked out, leaving his son alone in the room.
All Rights Reserved © Anne Teng
. 
. 
. 
. 
. 
. 
. 

.