A Bride Worth Billions (24 page)

“New school year but same old clothes.” She would have jumped if it wasn’t for the heavy boots she was wearing. Her parents, who had their room downstairs just below hers, had always complained about the noises she made with those boots.

She rolled her eyes at her best friend. “It wasn’t like I have many clothes to choose from.” She told Cara who was wearing a white cardigan over a pale pink casual dress and a pair of black leather high-heeled boots.

She walked towards her bed where she had laid her bag a few moments ago. Before she could pick it up, she heard her closet being opened and the next thing she knew, there was a black cloth covering her face. The said black cloth smoothly slid from her face to the bed, over her bag.

It was a black cropped shirt that says, “Music is my boyfriend” on the front.

“I seriously think this is overrated.” She said as she picked it up and examine her newly bought shirt.

“You do remember that you’re the one who bought, it right?” Cara reminded her. “C’mon Sy. Even just for today, wear something not so you. You know, something not so boring.”

“Thanks for the compliment.” Syrene said flatly though she already started taking her old knit top off.

“I think I should let you borrow my high-waist skinny jeans.” Cara said while examining her brunette friend from head to toe. “Wait, I’ll make a run for it.” She started to head towards the door, planning to get back to their house only three houses away and get the said jeans, but Syrene was fast and grabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t run or my parents will surely not likely it.” Syrene reminded though it sounded more like a warning. Cara just shrugged the thought off and reminded herself that she had always been like this – always feeling that something was off though there really wasn’t any reason to be. “Just walk quietly.”

“That’s odd.” Cara told her.

“What is?” Syrene asked as she folded her old knit top and put it back inside her cabinet. “Everything’s odd for you.”

“Yeah but . . . you know . . . we’re not childhood friends nor have we known each other for years . . .” She started as she talked in a quite serious tone. “But I just think that it’s just a little odd that for five months that we’ve been not only friends but neighbors, I haven’t seen any of your parents even just once. I’m practically here every day.”

“You’re just overthinking.” Syrene simply said. “Now where’s that jeans you’re going to let me borrow?”

“What kind of son would try to scare his own mother?” Leila asked her son. She wasn’t angry but she felt like she was about to have a heart when he tried to scare the shit out of her using what she called his ‘talent’.

              “I wasn’t trying to scare you Leila.” He answered her casually, reminding her that she really wasn’t his biological mother. “I was trying to help you relax. See? You slept well.” He continued like he didn’t realize that he just hurt Leila by not calling her ‘mom’.

              She drew out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. I admit I did sleep well but don’t do that next time please. It maybe was relaxing but it was also creepy.” She decided not to start an argument about their relationship as mother and son. She had not seen him for so long that she hadn’t expected to see him ever again. The last time they saw each other, it was during her husband’s funeral.

              She steadied her gaze on him as he walked towards and into his old bedroom. “You’re going to stay with me, right?” She asked in a hopeful tone. “Please stay Mu— “

              “Don’t call me that!” He snapped as he turned his gaze on her. “You were the one who have always hated that name so I really don’t think the right to call me by that name.”

              “I - - I . . . “ Leila didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say sorry but she thought that wouldn’t do anything for her to be forgiven. How many times she had used that word - she couldn’t recall anymore. What she could only remember was the painful feeling she had every time she said that word, only to be returned by a blank look of stare from the son she had raised.

              Music shook his head in disappointment but Leila wasn’t able to see for she was busy staring at her fingers while she fiddled them. He was expecting more from Leila though he didn’t know what exactly. “I think I should go ahead.”

              Leila’s head immediately went up to look at him. “Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.’

              Music shook his head and faked a smile to try to lighten up the current mood. “I’m leaving for school. It’s the first day of class and I don’t want to be late. I’m going home after, don’t worry.”

              “You’ve enrolled yourself for this school year?” She sounded surprised because she didn’t think he’d decide to still continue his studies. She was also hurt at the same time for he didn’t tell her anything about it though that wasn’t surprising after what happened last summer.

              “Well of course.” He grabbed his backpack and headed towards the door. “I should get going.” With that, he was out of the apartment and Leila felt all alone again.

Syrene kept on pulling down the hem of her cropped shirt.

              “Sy . . . “ Cara started with a silly tone. “The jeans you’re wearing is high-waist.”

              “I know.” She replied in a harsh whisper. She was trying not to look conscious but her little subconscious movements told otherwise. Cara could just shook her head in amazement on how her friend could be so self-conscious when there was nothing to be conscious about.

Cara had always felt insecure about Syrene’s natural brunette locks as if her hair was always on the go.  Though she had beautiful hair herself, she had always have to spend hours to style her hair because she couldn’t just go out without it. Aside from that, she had always wanted to dye her hair because she hated being blonde because of the blonde jokes and such that were always being thrown at her when she was in her old school. Her blonde mother wouldn’t allow her though and her brown-haired father could just joke about it and say, ‘Your mom’s gene is much stronger than mine.’

On the other hand, Syrene was feeling like a different person because of the new set of clothes she was wearing. The only thing that was stopping her from going back home was that at least she was still wearing her favorite pair of boots and of course, her friend who was walking beside her.

While still walking on the hallway, just a few more rooms before their room for their first period, they heard a guy cat-called, “Guys, see what we’ve got here. A blonde and a brunette, nice combo.” He then whistled in a way that every girl would find disrespectful. Syrene immediately recognized him as Toby. They used to be classmates in almost all the subjects during the freshman year. He was now with a group of five guys who were most likely assholes too.

Syrene felt like she was about to snap at him but she felt Cara squeezed her arm gently and whispered. “Let’s just go to class. Ignore them.” She was about to.

“I’d go for the brunette though.” She heard just as they were exactly in front of the said guys. She saw from her peripheral vision that the guy who just said that was the only black-haired guy in the group. Syrene figured that he might be a transferee since she hadn’t seen him before.

Toby snorted. “Yeah, right.” He said sarcastically. “You probably hate dumb blondes, too.” The rest of the boys laughed.

Slap!

Every student on the hallway stopped with whatever they were doing as they heard the hard hit Syrene just gave the new guy. Even Cara couldn’t believe what her best friend just did and so was Syrene herself. She hated it when somebody would insult her and even hated it more if it was her best friend being thrown insults to.

Syrene immediately pulled her hand back. Her palm stung and she could only imagine how it was for the guy’s face. They were staring at each other for a good minute appearing both shocked. Looking at his pair of ocean blue eyes made her suddenly guilty.

The guy she just slapped suddenly flash her a silly but innocent grin. He took a quick glimpse on the front of her shirt which she found weird and his eyes went back to her face. He raised a hand and Syrene closed his eyes, preparing to get a slap back but then she only felt his hand pat her on the top of her head and heard him chuckled as he passed by her.

The guy was already entering the class she and Cara also had to go to. She looked around and noticed that the other students went back to their own agendas except for Toby and his company. They weren’t looking directly at her and looked like they were afraid of being slapped.

The school bell rang signaling the start of the first period and Toby ran away with his friends towards their own classrooms. It was so obvious on their faces that they’d like to shout, ‘Saved by the bell!’

‘
I feel sorry for the cute guy
.’ was what’s written on the pink polka-dot post-it note her best friend handed to Syrene.

“You didn’t have to include the word ‘cute’.” She whispered to Cara without averting her gaze from the blackboard in which their teacher was writing some poem she wasn’t familiar of. The reason was intently looking at the front was to keep the guy she just slapped out of her line of vision.  She felt another poke and another post-it note being rubbed lightly on the back of her hand. She took the note and read it.

‘
He is Music. How amazing, isn’t it? ;)’
This time Syrene had to read it thrice.

“Uhh, what?” She asked her friend not realizing that it wasn’t on a whisper until everybody in the class was already staring at her.

“Do you not understand a word I said Ms. Faye?” Her English teacher asked her in a flat tone.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson. That won’t happen again.” She apologized as she subtly hid the post-it notes under her notebook.

Their teacher loudly sighed. “I’ll let this pass this time because I know you’re a good student. Now just read the poem on the board out loud.”

She nodded and started to read out loud:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies…

“Now can anybody please tell me who wrote this poem? Or anything you know about the poem Ms. Faye have just read.” Mrs. Johnson asked the whole class. Only one hand went up.

“She walks in beauty.” He started to say as he stole a glance somewhere in the middle of the room. “This beautiful poem was written by Lord Byron in 1814 after seeing his cousin wearing a black mourning dress. This is one of his most famous works and one of my favorites, may I say.”

“Nice.” Mrs. Johnson commented. “Mr. Adenburg, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The new student answered and although Syrene was trying not to look at him, she couldn’t help it as the family name was kind of familiar. “Hunter Adenburg.”

“Hunter?” The teacher asked. “Isn’t it Music? Music Adenburg?”

Syrene now realized what Cara meant on her note.

“I prefer to be called by my middle name, Ma’am.” He answered simply and then looked directly at Syrene, catching her off guard. Her arms immediately folded across her chest, covering what was written on her shirt. She thought the guy was probably making fun of her by now. If she had known he’d meet this guy and that his name’s music, she would have stick to wearing her knit top no matter how baggy and old it was.

Mrs. Johnson continued on with the discussion but Syrene’s mind was running frantically over the moments that had just transpired in that morning. She couldn’t get over the fact that he slapped the new guy in the school, became his classmate and that his name was written on her shirt.

“You’re basically claiming him as your boyfriend.” Cara excitedly told her right after the English class ended. “Imagine if you’re beside each other and you’re wearing that shirt.”

              “Oh Cara please. Don’t be so dreamy about it. There’s nothing to be excited about.” She told her as she shook her head. “And besides, the word ‘Music’ on my shirt is a common noun and not a proper noun.”

“Now, now.” Cara snickered. “Don’t be witty on me, Sy. You’re not Mrs. Johnson and English class has just ended.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Syrene dismissed as she stood up from her chair and picked up her bag. “But whatever his name is, I think I still have to apologize for what happened.” She admitted. Music – Hunter, whatever- wasn’t really the one who made threw an insult to Cara though Syrene was still thinking that he still was at fault for saying that he’d prefer her over blonde best friend.

Cara smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You should slap Tony instead.” She suggested and that, they both agreed on.

Hunter examined his left cheek on the mirror. He didn’t have any time to check it earlier because the school bell rang just a few moments after he had been given that hard of a slap from Faye. He wanted to at least know her first name but he thought that that could wait. His cheek was a little reddish but he was thankful that it looked like it wouldn’t leave any bruise. He smiled at his reflection on the mirror and his head at himself.

              The door to the men’s room opened and he saw Toby’s reflection. The guy’s face was reddened and he looked like he was about to cry. Hunter stayed silent as Toby went near the mirror and leaned on the sink. He probably didn’t see him right away because Toby looked shocked when he turned to his direction and recognized him.

              “Could this day be any worse?” He sighed heavily.

              “Don’t tell me that Faye slapped you?” Hunter guessed.

              Toby shook his head and then flashed a grin only to be turned into grimace when it hurt his cheeks. “Syrene didn’t slap me. Her blonde best friend did.”

              “Oh.” was what only came out of his mouth. He was more concentrated on the fact that he now knew her name.

              He nodded. “However, I received a punch on the cheek from that bitch.” He scowled.

              All of a sudden, Toby screamed as he held his head with both of his hands. His vision turned black and he heard a loud screeching sound inside his head. He couldn’t bear it and he felt like he was about to faint. He wasn’t aware of what was happening around him anymore. His ears felt numb and his knees were getting weak.

              The next thing he knew, the screeching sound was already gone and he was kneeling on the floor while breathing heavily. A group of guys were around him, asking him what happened and if he was fine. Toby didn’t answer for he had the same questions himself.