STEPBROTHER: Bad Boy Blues (Taboo Romance) (12 page)

W
ilfred heartily greeted me as I arrived in class the next day.

 

“Hey Betty!” he shouted.  “You never really told me about what happened at lunch yesterday.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t?”

 

“You did, but only in parts.  I want the whole story.  The whole freakin’ story!”

 

“Maybe later, Wilfred,” I begged.  “I’m... I’m having a rough start to my day.”

 

“Oh... I’m so sorry Betty,” he quickly apologized.  “Maybe later then.  Or some other time, perhaps.”

 

“Yeah.  Thanks Wilfred.”

 

Wilfred has always been a kind and gentle guy.  Always understanding.  Always patient.  Always nice.  He left me alone as he sensed that I preferred the silence.  He looked at me from time to time, though, just to check if I needed anything.  Whenever I saw him gazing, I just gave him a polite smile and he understood.  He would go back to jotting some notes, or maybe some doodles, on his notebook.

 

A few minutes before first period started, however, my day took a turn for the worse.

 

Chelsea went inside the classroom and she was with a familiar face... the face of the guy who I thought I loved... the face the guy who I thought loved me back.  She was with Darwin, and his arm was resting on her shoulder.  He was flashing a cocky smile... pretentious, ostentatious, cruel... and his dimple showed.

 

That damn freaking dimple!

 

He planted a kiss on Chelsea’s cheek and she smiled at him.  Chelsea proceeded to her seat.  As she passed by my chair, she waved and mouthed a hello.  Darwin, on the other hand, stood in front of the class until Chelsea was able to settle on her seat.

 

Then he approached Wilfred.

 

“Kid,” Darwin called him, “that’s my seat.”

 

“Eh?” Wilfred replied, nonplussed.  “This?  Where I’m sitting?  This is your seat?”

 

“That’s my seat,” Darwin repeated.  The smile he had a few seconds ago was completely gone and it was replaced by a terrifying glare.

 

I saw Wilfred gulp.  He wasn’t really a brave kid.  Thin and feeble, he was the favorite target of bullies when we were younger.

 

“I h-have always been in this seat, Sir,” Wilfred answered stutteringly.  “Since first year high, in fact.”

 

“You don’t own that seat anymore,” Darwin menacingly said as he placed his foot at the side of the chair and drew his face close to Wilfred’s.  He eyed him in a hostile manner.

 

The commotion they were making caused the entire class to turn their focus on them.

 

“T-This is my seat,” Wilfred answered, putting up a courageous front.  “I have always sat beside Betty over there,” he continued as he pointed at me.

 

“Bullshit!” Darwin yelled, his face was brimming with rage.  “If you don’t vacate that seat, I’m going to drag your scrawny little ass down the hallway and beat you up in the middle of the football field.”

 

The tension escalated as silence filled the room.  Everyone was waiting for Wilfred’s next move.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Wilfred finally responded.  “But I’m not leaving this seat.”

 

Then Darwin lost it.

 

Darwin kicked the side of Wilfred’s chair so hard that it almost tumbled backwards if it didn’t bump into Henry O’Neal who was sitting behind him.  Henry immediately grabbed Wilfred’s scrawny body to prevent him from falling to the floor.

 

But Darwin wasn’t through with him yet.  He approached him, his fists drawn on his sides, ready to take a swing at the sticklike boy who was obviously incapable of putting up a fight.

 

I wasn’t able to take it anymore.

 

“Darwin!” I screamed.  At the top of my lungs, I screamed.  “Stop!”

 

He froze and looked at me.

 

“Darwin... please stop,” I continued, mumbling my words that time, tears beginning to flow from my eyes.  “Just... please... stop.”

 

He stared at me, but the anger has abandoned his eyes, replaced by an entirely different emotion, one that I have never seen from him, one that I never expected he would ever show.

 

Shame.

 

He dropped his hands and bowed his head.  He turned around to face the door, then started to walk towards the exit.

 

“I need a fucking cigarette,” he uttered as he proceeded to leave the classroom.

 

From behind me, I saw Chelsea stand up and run towards him, towards Darwin, towards her man.  She placed her arm around his waist and looked at him worryingly.  Together, they walked away from the room, away from my sight.

 

“Darwin?” Wilfred asked when he finished putting the chair back to its proper position.  “I guess that was your stepbrother, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” I guiltily acknowledged.  “Sorry about that.”

 

“It’s alright,” Wilfred calmly replied.  “He’s a jerk, though.”

 

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed.

 

Darwin and Chelsea didn’t come back to class that day.  I guess they needed some time to help each other cope up with what just happened, to learn from the mistakes that were made, to come out better from the unfortunate circumstances that they were involved in.

 

It’s what lovers do, after all.

 

F
or the longest time, I’ve tried to get some sleep that evening.  Since Saturday, I barely got any shut-eye as I spent my nights wallowing in ignominy, then in despair, then in anger... in that particular order.

 

Then it happened.  I felt my consciousness drift as slumber claimed me under its warm embrace.  I needed that rest.  I needed the break from everything that has happened the past two weeks.  If luck will be on my side, I would even get to dream.  Nice dreams.  Happy dreams.  The type of dreams that I wouldn’t want to wake up from.  I could be a rock star adored by the masses, or a famous author whose works inspire countless lives, or a self-made artist who gets paid for doing what she enjoys.  I could dream about being somebody... anybody, actually... anybody other than myself.

 

I’ve been through rough days and I most certainly deserved a beautiful trip to the land of dreaming.

 

But lo and behold, I was even denied a good night’s sleep when I was yanked from the early minutes of my stupor by the sound of the front door slamming, followed by heavy footsteps going up the stairs.

 

At first, I thought a burglar has broken into our house.

 

But those footsteps... they were very familiar...

 

Darwin has finally come home.

 

Once I heard his bedroom door shut, I immediately got up from bed.  I was still in a state of daze, but it didn’t matter.  So many questions have been bugging me since the fateful night.  So many thoughts have been festering in my mind, none of which were pleasant.  I needed answers, and I needed them immediately.  It was the only chance I had.  God knows where he’ll be tomorrow or the next day.  But now he’s there, in the room next to mine, and I wouldn’t let that opportunity slip away.

 

I darted out of my room and went to his.  I didn’t dare to knock, least I wake up our folks.  So I tried to check if his door was locked.  As I turned the knob, and I was surprised to discover that it wasn’t.  I slowly opened the door.

 

I saw him by his window, looking out, smoking a cigarette.  He didn’t have a shirt on.  He was probably as ready for bed as I was a few minutes ago.  But I wouldn’t let him get off that easily.  I had to talk to him, and I had to talk to him right there and then.

 

“Darwin?” I called him.

 

He turned around and looked at me.  His eyes were sad.  He puffed on his cigarette, inhaled the smoke deeply, then blew it through the air making his room even smoggier.

 

“What?” he asked with an irritated tone that I knew was artificial.

 

“We need to talk,” I told him firmly.

 

“About?”

 

“About things.  About last Saturday.  About how you’ve been acting since then.  About us.”

 

“About us?” he queried with a mocking laugh.  “What about us?”

 

I tried to be strong.  I swear I did.  But his words... the way they sneered at me... the way they belittled the feelings we previously confessed to each other... the way he made me feel unwanted and stupid... they were too much to bear.  I felt my eyes swell and my nose clog up.  In a matter of seconds, I was sobbing.   I was crying so hard that the tears kept falling even if I tried my best to push them back.

 

It was then when Darwin dropped his cloak of rude indifference.  His face was suddenly painted with a look of concern.  He threw his cigarette stick outside the window and he rushed towards me and he gave me a tight embrace.

 

I buried my face on his chest as I continued to weep.  I inserted my hands between my eyes and his torso to wipe my tears.  I didn’t want his navy blue shirt - my favorite shirt of his - to get wet.

 

“It’s alright,” he softly said as he kissed the top of my head, unmindful of my hair.  “Everything’s alright, Betty.  We’re alright,” he kept repeating.

 

Was it out of deep yearning or the need to feel the touch another person, I didn’t know... but I soon found myself wrapping my arms around him.

 

“You smell like beer,” I muttered, in between my weeps.

 

“Whisky, actually,” he corrected me, which he followed with a slight snicker.

 

“Like I could tell the difference,” I replied.

 

“I wouldn’t know.  You’re the alcoholic in the family.”

 

“Shut up, Darwin.  It was just one night.”

 

“It was a wonderful night.”

 

“Yeah.  It was.  Being caught by the entire school notwithstanding.”

 

“Yeah, being caught by the entire school notwithstanding.”

 

We shared a hearty laugh that was restrained a bit because, well, I was still crying and also because we didn’t want our folks in the other room to hear that we’re still awake, entwined in each other’s arms.

 

“Listen, Betty,” he started to say, “About this morning... that thing with your seat mate.”

 

“His name is Wilfred.”

 

“Yeah.  Chelsea told me.  I wish that didn’t happen.  I was confused and angry and lost.  I didn’t know what I was doing.”

 

“Oh... your girlfriend told you his name, huh?  She’s actually quite nice.  I like her.  She’s good for you.”

 

It was a lie, of course, as I didn’t want him to know how affected I was.  I had to salvage what little pride I had left.

 

“Ex-girlfriend, actually, if we are to be technical about the terms,” he said.

 

My eyes widened in shock.  Thankfully, my face was still burrowed on his chest that he didn’t notice my surprise.

 

“What do you mean?” I quickly asked him.

 

“I broke up with her this evening,” he casually answered.

 

“What?  Why?”

 

“I’m... I’m not in love with her, Betty.  I never was.”

 

“Then why did you kiss her?  Why did you allow her to think that you guys were a couple?”

 

“Because I was protecting you,” he answered, his tone was rigid with certainty.

 

“Protecting me?” I asked, begging for a deeper explanation.

 

“People saw you kissing me,” he said.  “I had to divert whatever thoughts they were entertaining away from you.  The only way to do that was to be the asshole that everyone always expected me to be.”

 

“And by dating Chelsea, you think you became that asshole?”

 

“Yeah.  The people in school... they didn’t bother you as much when I started going out with her, right?”

 

“Darwin, that’s not cool.  You used another person.  You broke her heart.  Nothing is ever worth that.”

 

He paused for a bit as he hugged me tighter.

 

“No Betty,” he remarked.  “You’re worth that.  You’re worth everything.”

 

Honestly, I didn’t know how to react.  We were once again opening up to each other, Darwin and I.  We were once again sharing our feelings for each other.  But the cost was simply not right.  I knew how it felt to be hurt, to be rejected, to be left in the dark and desperate for some answers.  I wouldn’t wish that kind of ordeal to anyone... not even to my worst enemy.

 

“H-How did you end things with her?” I asked, a question which he didn’t see coming.

 

“I, uh, just told her that we weren’t meant for each other,” he answered as he took some time to search for the right words to say.

 

“That was it?  You just told her that?  And she was okay with it?”

 

“I... don’t know.  I just left her at her place and drove off.”

 

“Damn it, Darwin!  That’s not right!”

 

“Even if I did it for us?”

 

“Yes!  This is... very weird.  Very awkward.  I’m happy... but it’s like I have blood on my hands.”

 

Darwin broke his embrace and placed his hands on my cheeks.  He drew my face closer to his.

 

“Okay Betty,” he began to speak.  “Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to her.  I’m going to answer her questions.  I’m going to explain why I had to break up with her.  And... and...” he was struggling to continue.

 

“And?” I pressed for an answer.

 

“And... I’m going to apologize to her,” he promised, as he talked softly under his breath, seemingly embarrassed by what I forced him to say.

 

I smiled at him.  Darwin was never big on apologies.  For him, saying sorry was as difficult as wearing a pink polka dot shirt to school. 

 

“I guess that’s okay for now,” I uttered.

 

“Betty?” he called my attention once again.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You still owe me one more favor, right?”

 

Amidst the circus of emotions that started last Saturday night, I almost forgot about what I had to pay in return for him accompanying me to the party. 

 

“Yeah... but... is this really the right time to remind me of that?” I asked.

 

“Now’s the perfect time, yes,” he answered seriously.

 

“Then shoot.  What’s this favor?”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

“W-What?”

 

“Kiss me.  Right now.  Kiss me as if we are the only people in the world.”

 

I looked at his handsome face.  His eyes were fixed on me, staring at me longingly, affectionately.  He was dead serious about what he requested.

 

And so I did what I’ve always wanted to do... what I’ve tried so hard to stop from yearning... what I’ve failed to repress despite the sorrows that the week has brought...

 

I threw my body against his, my arms wrapped around his neck, my breasts pressed against his sturdy chest, my feet tiptoeing to reach his lips...

 

And I kissed him...

 

And he kissed me back...

 

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