How to Steal Mason's Heart

TWO

The first thing I did on a Monday morning was dash towards my locker. Courtney told me my phone was unattended by the thief or the worst case scenario, it was stolen by some d**g addict who sold my phone in the black market for an extremely expensive price. I wasn’t sure if she was sane to tell that to me most especially she looked robotic saying it, her lip never rising up to a smile while her eyes looked permanently dull.

“Kidding!” she immediately screamed once she was done delivering it, immediately laughing at her own joke and clutching her stomach for a full added effect. I just rolled my eyes at her lame attempt.

I was hoping my phone would be returned inside my locker but that was just me dreaming the impossible. As I opened it, my lips curved down into a frown as I grabbed the first book for my first subject: History. I wasn’t the brightest bulb of the class and History was my least favourite subject of all time. During my elementary years back when I was in the Philippines, my teacher almost failed me most especially I got a perfect zero during the test. It was hard keeping track of what had happened in the past most especially those people mentioned in History books were dead.

Slamming the locker door shut, I was greeted by the most unusual face my eyes had ever laid on.

“I heard you are looking for this,” his lips spoke, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously at me. “And I also heard you are crushing on Mason Ward.”

My heart did that ten feet drop. My face fell to the ground and had gone pale once he mentioned Mason’s name. A blush immediately crept up on my cheeks, my palms going cold, sweating profusely at his statement. Immediately, I flailed my arms in the air, reaching for my phone but he had it suspended in the air, a teasing smirk resting on his face.

“You want this?” he asked, raising my phone in the air, waving it in front of my face. My desperate attempts of getting it was futile since he was taller than me, his height towering over my short build.

“Give me that!” I yelled at him, causing other students to turn their heads at us. It wasn’t my intention to cause a scene but he was provoking me to, his hand with my phone still hanging in the air, unable for my reach.

I pushed him enough for him to stumble as I immediately snatched my phone and ran away, looking over the wallpaper to see the picture—the Photoshop version of me sitting beside Mason—was untouched and unchanged. The bell rang but before I could enter, Jason, Mason’s younger brother, grabbed my brown sling bag.

“Hey!” he yelled but when my History teacher gave us a look, he immediately placed a peck on my cheek as my cheeks grew rapidly on fire, a wide playful smile flitting on his lips. My eyebrows drew together, sending him a glare.

“You just didn’t!” I screamed as I was about to slap him but he stole my phone that was held by my other hand and ran away, laughing at the stunt he pulled while it left me dumbfounded, speechless even.

Defeated, I walked my way towards the back of the room where the teacher would most likely not give any attention to any student who was sleeping or caught sexting. I saw my seatmate Daniella Hudson once sexting Bryan Grant. It almost made me puke my guts peeking over the dirty texts they’re sending. So I pleaded Claire Count, the head cheerleader to switch seats with me, and she gladly agreed.

The professor, Dr Joe Williams, cleared his throat to catch everyone else’s attention, including Daniella Hudson whose green eyes were still locked on her enormous iPhone 6.

“We are going to talk about,” his voice echoed in the room as it had gone rusty and raspy due to chain smoking, “how World War II happened. And of course, Adolf Hitler’s early life.”

Dr Williams was a big fan of the German Nazis and Adolf Hitler most especially he would randomly sometimes place his arm in the air in a slanting position yelling, “Hail Germany!”. If someone would insult Adolf Hitler or anything German, there would be an enormous chance of failing his subject most especially he would never tolerate students who bash his idols.

Silent groans echoed inside the room but he immediately silenced it with a short video presentation. Almost all of the students, me included, slept throughout the video presentation while he was gushing watching it. A few seconds later we were woken up by his thunderous voice, a glare imprinted on his face.

He immediately wrote something on the whiteboard with his faulty whiteboard markers, choosing another marker that would work properly as he continued writing down the letters. I tilted my head sideways wondering why the hell he would write Adolf Weiner instead of Hitler. I giggled on my seat and asked my seatmate, the famous emo kid Jehoshaphat who hated his name because his father was the religious kind and who was wearing a dark eyeliner under his dark brown eyes because he told me it made his soul darker, “Is that Weiner beside Adolf’s name?”

I almost teared up as I looked at what Dr Williams wrote on the whiteboard. Jehoshaphat stared at me like I had grown another head. He looked at the board, replying, “He wrote it correctly Alexa. Are you high or something?”

Jehoshaphat smelled of pot while he was cutting—using a cutter of course—his left wrist. Blood dripped down from his skin while his eyeballs were turning red.

“You’re the one who is high here,” I retorted, wrinkling my nose subtlety in disgust. I simply ignored what he was doing and focused myself on the board, the letters dancing in front of my eyes.

From Adolf Weiner, the words jumbled in my sight into Olaf Weiner. I never understood how that happened but suddenly, I was already laughing, my stomach aching in pain as I clutched it, the tears falling out from eyes.

“Is there something funny Ms. Alexa Sanchez?” Dr Williams inquired, raising his greying eyebrow at me. I immediately stopped what I was doing and immediately sat upright, my brown eyes focusing on the board.

“Did you write Olaf Weiner on the board?” I queried innocently until the whole class burst into extreme laughter. My eyes scanned the whole room to see them laughing including my seatmate Jehoshaphat who stopped carving straight lines on his wrist.

“Are you insulting Adolf Hitler, Ms Sanchez?” he asked, his tone raising in anger. His voice erupted like a bomb, the whole class turning quiet. I shook my head intensely. “Detention will most likely be a reward to students who insult the great Hitler,” he warned, his thick brows connecting more than they had to be. “But for now, I’ll let this pass.”

A huge weight was released on my chest. I was lucky enough that he was lenient maybe due to his old age or the fact that I made a violation for the first time. In most cases I was quiet but for the first time I was uncontrollably boisterous with my mouth loudly open.

A sigh of pure relief escaped my lips.

“But if you do it again, you will immediately get an F. No detentions can serve the insult you’ll be giving,” he alerted, making me sit straighter.

I nodded in fear, putting my lips together in a thin line, wishing the bell would ring sooner because his lessons were un-Nazi-ssary. I laughed internally the pun I had just created in my head.

Jehoshaphat looked at me with pure worry, whispering, “You’re hella weird.”

“I know,” I only replied, my lips upturning into a smirk.

+ + + +

Physical education, my last subject, had ended with a graceful twirl in the shower, the smell of sweat crinkling my nose in distaste. The stench was purely unpleasant. The soap immediately replaced the odour into a flowery scent. Shouts and shrieks of girls had disturbed my serene shower. Must be a flying roach was tormenting their changing of clothes.

Instead, a voice of a boy perked my ears up. His voice sounded so familiar.

“Is Alexa here?” he asked while the girls continued screaming.

“Go away you p*****t!” That was Danielle Hudson’s screechy voice. I could imagine her pushing him away with an appalled look on her face, the struggle clear in her eyes.

“I just need to find her!” There was desperation laced around his voice. I turned the shower off and stepped out, opening the door while the towel was rolled around my body. Jason’s cheeks were in crimson, his mouth parting a little, my phone raised in the air like what he did earlier with his hand.

“Honey, you were looking for me?” I questioned, batting my eyelashes at him with my sickening sweet voice. I swayed my hips purposefully as I walked towards him, continuing to bat my eyelashes at him. The girls inside the shower were giggling at the scene while in my head, I had murdered him a thousand times more than the casualties America had caused on the bombing of Nagasaki, Japan.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered like he was out of breath, taking a step backwards while his eyes were already staring at the exit. “I-I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

I tiptoed my way towards him and leaned on his ear, releasing a breath which caused him to shiver a little. “I’m going to f*****g kill you,” I whispered. He immediately dashed outside while I changed into my jeans and shirt.

As I stepped into the gym, he was sat at the bleachers with a long look on his face. I ran approaching him, glowering already at him. “Give me back my phone,” I demanded, my palm reaching for the phone in his hand.

“Hear me out first,” Jason pleaded.

“After stealing my phone? Why would I?” I retorted, my heart pulsing in anger as I clenched my fist.

“Because I know how to help you getting my brother to like you,” he replied which stopped me with what I was doing mid-air.

“I can do that myself, so thanks for the offer,” I rejected. “So give me back my phone.” I tried to reach for it but I fell on top of him. His blue eyes widened, the blush reappearing on his cheeks.

“I, uh,” I stuttered uncomfortably, taking a seat beside him.

There was an awkward pause.

“So are you up for the deal?” Jason offered, raising a brow at me. There was a light dust of freckles spread across his nose. They looked invisible if it wouldn’t be at close proximity.

“What’s the catch? And if I reject the deal?”

“I will tell Mason you’re stalking him,” he simply answered, “but if you say yes, you’ll help me get the girl I like.”

I chuckled. Then I laughed loudly, my voice bouncing across the gym. “That’s seriously insane most especially I don’t even know the girl you like granted I don’t have a lot of friends.”

“You know her very well,” he supplied. “Her name’s Courtney Dunst.”