How do you describe the feeling of infuriation, anxiety and excitement altogether? Well, that’s EXACTLY what I felt when I saw him come out of the car. And by him, I mean that annoying doctor who did my screening test. He was wearing a blue polo shirt and black slacks. The only thing that’s missing is his white coat—must be straight from work.
“Doctor, you’re here.” I greeted, trying hard to stay polite even though there’s an infuriated volcano wanting to burst inside me.
But I was ashamed by what he did. He didn’t pretend that things are cool between us and went straight to his apology for what happened. I was so surprised—the doctor that I saw the other day was completely different from the one I am facing today—serious, humble and sincere.
I happily accepted his apology since what he did there was not something everyone could do—something I’ve never done.
“Where are you going, anyway? You don’t seem to be in a hurry.” I asked. I’ve been curious about it a while ago.
“Home.” He bluntly replied.
Well that’s a bit rude. But I brushed that off, considering that I just forgave him. Having bad thoughts about him would ruin the whole thing.
“Me too, I gotta get home soon. See you around.” I said, forcing a smile before hastily walking away. For some reason, I felt the need to evaporate and completely disappear from his sight—out of shame, out of anger, and some other indescribable feelings that I am in no mood to figure out.
I was only a few meters from him when I thought of looking back. I didn’t see his car pass me by yet. But my pride didn’t allow me to look back. But I don’t think he’ll be thinking the same, he’s not like any other guys at my school (a.k.a. jerks)
Anyway, I was in the middle of arguing with my own thoughts, when he grabbed me by the hand and said. “I could drive you home if you like.”
Though I really wanna say no, I can’t seem to open my mouth. I hate it. I was too shocked to speak. Instead, my ever-so-expressive eyes widened as I stared at him.
Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t really see that one coming too. He then reasoned out. “I can’t let a girl go home all by herself.”
I
guess I wasn’t in my right mind that time. I really, really wanted to get out of that situation ASAP but he looks nice, he’s been nice, and he’s no Russian—there doesn’t seem anything harmful about it.
Kidding aside, it could also save me some dough. I know a bus doesn’t cost that much, but at least I saved. What the… for a minute there, I just sounded like my parents. I have GOT to fix that.
“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been in a stranger’s car.” I said aloud, while looking at the bright city lights we pass by.
“I’m no stranger.” He replied.
There was a complete silence since I rode his car. It’s nice to know that he’s still alive.
I then raised my eyebrows and asked. “Then how come I still don’t know your name?”
“Then how come you’re not asking?” He cleverly returned.
Damn it! I’m in no mood for any senseless arguments today, so I immediately surrendered. “Alright, then what is your name?”
“Christian. Christian Lim.” He bluntly replied, again.
“And don’t forget the doctor.” He pointed at me and added.
“Yes, doc” I nodded, breaking off into a giggle. “You earned that in med school.”
I was thinking about something when I suddenly blurted out. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
And just when you though that things couldn’t get any more awkward. I was just wondering about in my thoughts—I wasn’t expecting it to come out of my mouth.
I saw the look on his face and I immediately knew that I shouldn’t have said that. He’s not angry—it’s just for the first time, his face was gloomy. The cheery eyes and generous smile have disappeared. But that only lasted for not less than a minute or so. He immediately changed back to the one I was talking to earlier and chuckled. “What makes you think that?”
I then let out a sigh of relief in my mind. Why? The hell, I don’t have any idea.
“Because if you had a girlfriend,” I explained. “She’d be the one sitting here and not me.”
His smile vanished after he heard that. But before I could even ask what was wrong, he was his old self again and even let out a laugh. “You have a point there.”
I don’t mean to sound cocky, but it’s a good thing I’m smart enough to know what’s going on. But instead of asking him what was wrong, I tried to go with the flow and acted as if I didn’t see it. He wants it that way, and so I’ll give it to him.
“And your answer?” I impatiently pointed out.
“Inquisitiveness,” he raised his voice, like those bold speakers on TV, and continued. “Can lead you to the path of journalism. You ever dreamt of being a journalist?”
“Not really. But maybe in 10 to 20 years, I can see that happening.”
“Good for you.” He smiled.
But just when he thought he got away with it, I turned to him and smirked. “I’m still waiting for the answer, doctor.”
I guess he wasn’t expecting to hear that reply, as he remained silent. I was about to laugh in the inside, when he finally thought of something to say.
“Persistence,” he continued.
Damn it! I guess he just won’t give up, would he? But the constant evasions just make me more curious. I can’t help wondering why.
What the heck, why am I even thinking about him? This is wrong. This is SO wrong. But now that I think of it, am I going overboard for someone I just knew for a couple of days?
“So why are you being curious?” Sandy asked, munching on her favorite roasted peanuts, as we were sitting on the bleachers at the football field after school. Aside from the good-looking players practicing, the place is also often passed by chilly breezes so it’s a good hangout place.
“What do you mean? I’m always curious.” My ever-expressive eyes scrunched.
“No you’re not.”
“Yes I am!” I argued.
“No you’re not.” She calmly returned. “You’re the most apathetic person I know.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I don’t think so.” She nodded.
I didn’t say a word after that—Sandy's just too stubborn believe me.
But now that I think of it, why am I curious?
I hate to admit it, but she was right. I can be a little apathetic.
I was staring somewhere across the field, preoccupied by those thoughts, when Sandy came to a realization. She was looking at me intently. I didn’t like that look—it’s like telling you that she knows EXACTLY what you’re thinking. I immediately knew that I wouldn’t like the next words that would come out of her mouth.
