The Escort

Chapter Twelve

JANET’S EARS PERK up when she realises we will be getting ice cream. After the stressful situation she has been in, she deserves something to calm her nerves. There is a 7-eleven a few blocks away from the club, and the silence of the convenience store is such a welcoming ambiance. I let Mia and Janet look for a place to sit, while I order three soft serve ice creams.

            Janet has stopped crying and when I hand her an ice cream, she eats it quietly, like a baby shushing after she is fed with milk in a baby bottle.

            “Is William the reason why we went to a girl’s night out?” I ask Janet. She cringes at the question, confirming my theory. “It’s okay if it is, you know.”

            “Not really. Someone told me that he is at this club, he frequents there every night and I want to see it for myself, but I also want to have fun with you Tilda. I wasn’t planning on confronting him, but I suddenly saw red, and I couldn’t contain this anger any longer. All the frustrations I had just suddenly broke lose.”

            “Must be the pregnancy hormones, or the fact you’ve been building your rage the moment he abandoned you.”

            “I guess…” She cries again, hiding her face with her arms. The ice cream on her hand melts on her hair but she doesn’t seem to care. “I f****d up so bad,” she says in between sobs.

            “It’s okay to make mistakes. We’re only human,” Mia comforts but it only makes Janet cries harder than she already has.

            “I feel so alone.”

            “You’re not alone. Your sister and I are here for you, every step of the way.”

            “Do you promise?” she asks, like a child who wants Santa to be real.

            “We promise,” Mia and I chorus. Janet, with melted ice cream on her hair, removes her arms from her face, and she genuinely smiles with bloodshot eyes.

            “You don’t know how much that means to me.” She is about to cry again, but Mia says we must go home because the night is growing deeper. I agree with her, since I have more work to do because I have not done any work for today. Janet glares at me but I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly in response.

            “How did your first clubbing experience go?” Janet asks when we arrive at the penthouse.

            “It wasn’t bad,” I say. My mind wanders back to Jared, and what would’ve happened if I haven’t asked him to stop. I’m not yet ready, and he’s a total stranger. I want my first time with someone special. John’s face pops up, and my cheeks burn.

            “Did something steamy happen?” she teases but I wave her off. I tell her I’m going to take a bath and rest for the night. I check my phone, and Robert hasn’t replied since. I don’t know why I even care if he replies or not. When we first met, I couldn’t even care less about him, and it must stay that way.

            But when I keep tossing and turning on my bed, I turn my phone on and send him a message.

            Me: I hope I did not say anything wrong.

            Robert Go: don’t worry, princess. i really don’t reply if it is unnecessary.

            Me: That’s a relief I guess.

            Robert Go: are you worried about the absence of my response? ;)

            I roll my eyes. He is so brazen. So the rumours are true, he is a charmer. He says so himself. I’m quite immune to his charms since his flirtatious winks on text makes me wince. It’s a bit funny, because he must be trying hard to charm his way to me.

            Me: Well, I can’t deny that I’m a bit worried. :D

            Robert Go: your smiley is hilarious, matty.

            Me: Another nickname again? How many do you plan on making nicknames for me?

            Robert Go: quite a dozen. do you want to know what the others are?

            Me: Sure, I’m all ears.

            I wait for his response, but it has been an hour, and he may have already slept. I close my eyes and sleep, and for the first time, I can feel myself smile while my mind takes me into a slumber.

SUNDAY IS MY favourite day of the week. There is that specific tranquility with Sundays, and is the exact opposite of the chaos that Mondays offer. I wake up to check if Robert has replied. My heart sinks. I admit I enjoy having conversations with him. Everything is so easy with him, and his talkativeness takes me to another dimension.

            John has never bothered contacting me, and I may have forgotten him. I don’t know if it’s alright to even ask him out just to hang out and to get know him better. I don’t want him to harbour any thoughts that I’m interested in him.

            Speak of the devil and John appears in my kitchen. I scream in astonishment. “What are you doing here?!” I ask in a panicked tone. My heart pounds so loud because I’m still wearing my night gown, and my bedhead makes me look like I have woken up at the wrong side of the bed.

            “Your sister invited me,” he replies, his eyes travelling from my head to my toes. I glare at him when I notice him check me out, my face burning up in sheepishness. “Nice outfit,” he mocks, whistling at me.

            I roll my eyes. “You should be honoured that you saw me in this state. I wouldn’t let anyone see me this disheveled,” I retort. “Why did my sister even invite you? And where the hell is she?”

            “She went to shower, and she invited me for breakfast, though I haven’t seen any food on the table yet,” he chuckles. “Maybe I can cook for breakfast for the Lim sisters.”

            “Oh gosh, no. You are the guest and you cooking is breaking every rule of How to Treat House Guests 101.”

            “Is there really a handbook for that?” he asks and his eyes tell me he believes what I say.

            “No silly,” I laugh silently at him. “I just made it up in my head.”

            “Oh.” He looks embarrassed, as he scratches his head.

            “Just sit down and let me make us some breakfast.”

            “Okay wifey,” he says casually and I almost drop the pan I’m holding, my heart jumping out of my chest. I don’t like the feelings I’m experiencing right now, especially when John evokes them out of me naturally.

            I make a big breakfast for the three of us, since Janet’s appetite has exponentially increased, and I haven’t gauged John’s appetite yet. I make fried rice and scramble some eggs on it, chop some vegetables to add on the rice. I also cook the traditional corned beef with diced potatoes, fry some longganizas, hotdogs, and eggs. When I finish cooking, Janet has finished showering.

            John sets the table wordlessly. I insist him from doing anything but he stubbornly says no. He also makes takes some boxed orange juice from the fridge. I sometimes hear him gasp in awe at the amount of food we have in the fridge. My heart constricts in guilt, wishing John does not have to experience that—that hardship I have no idea of.

            “This smells so good Ate,” she compliments and smells the aroma wafting from the food. “It really is,” John agrees, his eyes on me. My skin melts from the intensity of his gaze, but I ignore his stare.

            “OMG! I need to take a photo of the both of you!” Janet squeals. “I need this for my i********: story!”

            “No, John will be scrutinised by the media if you do that,” I say and her expression morphs into realisation.

            She pouts, but she still insists on taking a picture of us. She promises not to post it on any social media. I uncomfortably sit beside John, who is a few inches away from me, his warmth freezing me. Goosebumps prick my skin at the close proximity. Suddenly, I am hyper-aware of every single movement he does. I’m in my night clothes, while John looks fresh with his plain aqua green shirt, and his slicked back hair. Janet shows the picture, with a filter, John smiles silently and shakes his head.

            “Is there something wrong?” I ask him.

            “You look like you saw a ghost on the picture.”

            I take Janet’s phone away from her and stare at the picture she has taken. My eyes are wide, and my lips are grim in a straight line. I really look like I have seen a ghost. I sheepishly request Janet to take another, where I don’t look like a joke.

            She does without any hesitation. I force a smile, and when she shows another picture, John laughs at me again, because he says I look constipated who has poor bowel movements. “Let’s just eat,” I say in annoyance. I don’t look good when I’ve just woken up, and it agitates me when there is an uninformed presence around.

            Janet keeps moaning as she eats, and my eyes glance at John intermittently. “How’s the food?”

            “It tastes great!” she exclaims. John remains quiet but I can see him yearning for the food on the table; Janet gestures more food towards him, but he hesitates, his eyes asking me if it is okay to get some more. I just shrug my shoulders. I’m still a bit annoyed he made fun of my appearance. I’m not like Janet who looks so beautiful even if she has only woken up.

            Why am I even affected about what he thinks of me? He’s a man who knows nothing about me. But why does it hurt a little? When Janet puts the plates and other utensils on the sink, John corners me, before I can even leave. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

            “It’s whatever.” Rolling my eyes, I push him away so that I can pass through. He corners me again, holding both my wrists in his steel-like grip. “I just want to lighten the mood,” he explains. “I didn’t know you would get upset about it. I won’t joke about it anymore.”

            “Please let me go.” He lets me go, but he trails behind me as I head to my room.

            I turn around. “Can you please stop following me?”

            “I won’t stop until you tell me that you’re okay with me.”

            “Jeez, fine. We’re okay. Happy?”

            “No, I want to make it up to you. Can I take you to Enchanted Kingdom?”

            “We’re not five anymore, John. Amusement parks are for kids.”

            “You’re just mad at me,” he says, his face filled with dejection. I don’t know why I’m so upset at John’s jokes when I know those jokes are not even bad. Maybe I’m upset because he hasn’t even bothered to text me, and while I know that it’s petty of me to think that way, I can’t help control what I’m feeling. I sound like a jealous girlfriend who is upset that her boyfriend has not given her his time. He’s my fake boyfriend, and we only have to do things that couples do when there are people around. John is not my friend, either. I’m only paying him to become my boyfriend so that ma and pa will leave me alone.

            It has worked quite well—ma and pa leaving me alone. And that is where John’s place will be, in the middle of ma and pa and, me. He is my shield against the engagement between me and Robert. Janet shouldn’t have invited him over without warrant because he riles me up on some occasions, and not in a good way.

            “And what does it even matter if I’m mad at you? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend.” I cross my shoulders across my chest, letting out a huff. I steel when realisation dawns on me with the words I’ve blurted.

            He looks exasperated and does not seem bothered by the last few words I’ve said, running his hands through his hair. He says, “Look, I did not say you’re ugly. I just said you look like you saw a ghost and a bit constipated on the second. It doesn’t mean you’re ugly. I actually think it’s kind of… cute.” He blushes.

            I blush too, at the unexpected compliment. Now I don’t know if I should be mad anymore. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden. My night gown suddenly is like a light skin that delicately hangs on my body because it seems like John can see the bare nakedness of my figure.

            “Oh,” I say awkwardly. “I… I didn’t know that you find me cute.”

            “You are, kinda. On the pictures… I mean,” he says in contemplation, scratching his head with such timidity. He has always presented himself as chill and cosy around me.

            “Have the lovebirds made up yet?” Janet teases, abruptly ending our mini-argument.

            With my and John’s face steaming red, we both say, “We weren’t fighting.”

            “Mhm,” she drawls, unconvinced but she does not push us any further as she goes inside her room.

            With Janet gone, the tension in the atmosphere reappears, filled with plenty awkwardness. I am at a loss for words for the first time, and John may have, too. He keeps parting his mouth open and shuts it, his eyes running around as if he can see the words forming in the air.

            “Matilda,” he calls my name quietly, “I’m really sorry for hurting you.”

            “It’s my fault I got upset.”

            “No, it’s mine. I know that we’re not friends. I should’ve been careful with my mouth.”

            “We can be friends, if you want.” Something in my gut tells me I may regret this in the future.  But who knows what the future holds for the both of us?

            John’s eyes widen at my offer. “I know I’m just employing you—” He hugs me, interrupting me. His body feels solid and warm, and when it registers in my head of how close he is, my face warms. His arms around my body feels so strong but his hold on me is not uncaring, as if I’m a delicate piece of china.

            “That means a lot,” he murmurs into my ear. Goosebumps prick my skin when his hot breath tickles me. He breaks the hug, and he gives me a genuine smile. He looks adorable, like a young boy with his schoolgirl crush.

            “Well, I was just waiting for you to text me,” I admit.

            “I was actually waiting for you to say something, too.”

            “Then thank Janet for setting us up?” he offers. I laugh, and for the first time, my heart feels full.