Chapter 3. Not a piece of cake

I groaned as I pressed my face into Neo's pillow, letting out very small whimpers. After the shocking news, I went back to sneak more and avoided him like a plague, but how long would I hide? How long would I stay away from him? I couldn't get out of it no matter how much I begged Mr. Stone to have mercy.

«««Flashback»»»

I followed Mr. Stone to his car, clinging to his arm like my life depended on it, which is true because it did. If I didn't find a way to get out of the tutoring lesson, I was doomed. An assignment was enough, no more. It was no longer a fight for him never to recognize me as the crazy kisser, but this was a matter of my heart. I knew myself a lot… No, it was common knowledge. He starts teaching me, we become friends, I fall in love with him and he never reciprocates, leaving me heartbroken for the rest of my life, maybe. I didn't want to take that chance, I didn't want to be part of those whose first love never worked out. I didn't want to have to suffer emotionally, letting it affect me physically and mentally as well. I didn't want the wistful pain I'd manage to step into another level.

There was a chance he could fall in love with me, there was a chance he could like me too but then what? Did I need to live with the fear that he could just wake up one morning and leave me? Just decide that he's tired of loving me and move on to the next best thing, leaving me sad, depressed, and broken? I didn't want to, no. I'd watched my father live with that pain for years, I couldn't live like that. I never want to live like that.

"Larissa, I've made the decision. Unless you want me to call your father,"

"No," I cried, "I don't want to bother him—"

"Then take the damn offer and make do with it. Larissa, you are a bright girl and you have a very bright future, but that would never be possible if you let yourself waste away. There's nothing hard in it, just take the tutoring for free—"

"Fine, can I not be tutored by Zayne, please? It's a matter of life and death!"

"Justice, stop acting like a child and behave like an adult—"

"I'm nine," I deadpanned. He sighed jadedly and pushed me off him gently. "Can I get another tutor, please?"

"Why not? Zayne is at the top when it comes to calculation, you should be happy he agreed,"

"I'm not, can I just change?"

"If you can get a tutor before the end of school tomorrow, then yes." I jumped in excitement, getting a tutor would be a piece of cake.

«««End of flashback»»»

Getting a tutor was not a piece of cake. I tried, and I tried, and I tried. Starliss is a terrible teacher, I couldn't ask her. Odette is… Well, dumber than I am. I tried three other smart students, but nope, they already had plans. The only one who didn't have plans was the one Odette kissed and he was terrified of running into her. Neo turned me down, he already had too much to do with the semester being the final and the coach was determined to push them really hard, thanks to last semester's massive loss. So, I was stuck with Zayne at the end.

"Will you stop groaning into my pillow, you'll infect it with your disease," Neo scolded as he walked out of the bathroom, slamming the doors shut behind him. I didn't bother looking up because he has a habit of walking out of the bathroom naked. The top reason we never stay back when he goes in to take a bath. "It's not my fault you are miserable… Okay, it kinda is but it's not my fault you chose to kiss him over running around naked—"

"On a football field! Neo!" I shouted. "And this is no longer about the kiss, it's about my heart—"

"And so?" Sighing, I massaged my forehead, lifting myself to sit. "Look, there's nothing wrong in getting your heart broken, it's nothing. If you think that you can survive in this world without heartbreak, then you are not human. It's normal for people who have a heart. Just look at me, I've gotten my heart broken twice, and I've broken about thirty-five girls' hearts all my life—"

"You got your heart broken by your mom, that's not a heartbreak!" I shouted, turning around to glare at his back. He stood in front of his closet, slipping on his boxers. "And you are being dramatic with the heartbreak thing. Plus, Berry was your crush, not the love of your life. You were like nine then. What does a nine-year-old know about love?" I huffed. When we were younger, Neo had a crush on his neighbor's daughter, the saddest moment of our lives. She was extremely rude and snooty, acting like the whole world was at her disposal. She hated us, especially Starliss, so she made sure to get rid of us.

The little witch broke his tiny little heart and he came running back to us.

"Nuance," I rolled my eyes. Why did I come to him for advice again? When has he ever given me a good one? I just always find myself coming to him because he was my first friend, my best friend. "It's not the end of the world, Risa, stop acting like it is. You don't have a choice but to work with him and hope that he either falls in love with you equally, or you try your best not to love him—"

"That's impossible!" I cried out. He shrugged, slipping his shirt over his head. "Neo, help me," I pleaded.

"Sorry, sis, I can't." And he won't. Somewhere deep down, I knew he intentionally did it so I could get closer to Zayne, something I refused to accept.

~~~

"Tristan, I'm home!" I shouted, flinging my bag on the sofa bed. I jogged to the kitchen to check if he prepared lunch or if I'd have to prepare it myself. I checked the oven and the fridge, but nothing. I took off my hoodie, tied it around my waist, and washed my hands. My younger brother, Tristan, loved sandwiches. He tried to exchange me one time for a whole sandwich bar, and I'm not joking. Since then, I made it my hobby to learn how to prepare every single type of sandwich, the ones I could learn. Dad said he had always loved sandwiches, from when he was in his mother's womb.

I prepared some paneer cheese sandwich, kept his share in the microwave, and then made citrus juice for him. I was rounding up when I heard him running straight to the kitchen. "I smell something delicious!" He squealed. I rolled my eyes. Tristan ran into the kitchen, flung his school bag on the floor, and jumped on the stool. "Sis, you are the best!"

"I know," I smiled, eyeing his dirty uniform. He attended a school that required them to wear uniforms. I didn't like it because it meant more work for me, but Tristan loved the school almost as much as he loved sandwiches. "Did you get into a fight again?" I folded my arms scoldingly. He rolled his eyes, still biting into his sandwich.

"Why do you always assume I get into fights whenever my clothes get stained?" I stared at him blankly. He grinned sheepishly.

Tristan was way too carefree and a fighter. He was a sweet kid, really, but he just didn't know how to use his words instead of his fist. It started after Mom left when he was four. Kids can be mean, really. Then, Dad didn't have a good job, things were hard for us. Some parents can be mean enough to gossip to their kids. Those kids use that against you and attack you. They learned how to bully us, even if their lives weren't better than ours. I guess that's when both Tristan and I learned how to never get intimidated. But unlike him, I knew when to fight and when not to, he didn't.

Now at thirteen, he was playful, caring, sweet, too carefree, and violent when dared. I still love him nevertheless, as his mother and as his sister. It had always been us; Dad, him, and me. We had no idea where our mother was, and we didn't even care. We were happy just the way we were.

"Okay, I might fight a lot, but I'm working on it," he pointed at his uniform, "this is from helping the school gardener—"

"Aww, that's so sweet of you," I cooed. He snorted.

"What are you talking about? I made sure he paid me,"

"Seriously?" I gasped.

"No," he deadpanned. I rolled my eyes and focused on my meal. We ate in silence, me ignoring the sound of his moaning and noisy chewing. I finished eating first, stood up, and carried my plate to the dishwasher. I quietly dropped it, made him strip to take his dirty uniform, and went upstairs with his bag and mine. I dropped his laundry in the washing machine, went to his room, took out his fresh spare uniform, and straightened it with his iron. I hung the uniform on his closet door and left his room. He was in our shared bathroom so I threw myself on my bed to sulk on my predicament.

Tristan walked into my room, all dressed and smelling like lavender mint, his favorite. He plopped himself down on my bed, my body to be precise. I oomph and push him off by elbowing his head. He laughed, rolling off my body but still keeping his hand locked around my waist. He'd always called himself my older brother, younger brother, cousin brother, and boyfriend. It was completely normal for him to hold me like he was my boyfriend, the second reason I didn't have one. Tristan chased them all away. I could never say no to him. If he doesn't like them, I can never date them.

"Babe, do you mind telling me what's up with the sulking?" Just like my dad and Neo, he knew my moods too well. "Does it have anything to do with your Prince Charming?" He teased. Don't be fooled, he hates Zayne. Why? No other guy is supposed to be close to me other than himself and our father. Neo was only allowed because he grew up seeing Neo around me.

"Remember that semester game I always played with the guys?" He hummed. "So since it is our final months in high school, we decided everyone will make a request, starting with Neo. Unfortunately, Neo declared that we would kiss the first twentieth male we see in the hallway, and him, a female. Even if it was a teacher, janitor, or someone else's boyfriend, it didn't matter. Everyone did theirs, it was my turn—"

"And you ended up kissing Prince Charming, didn't you?" He sighed.

"It was either that or nakedness," I said defensively. He removed his hand from my waist and sat up, scooting his butt on the bed upward until he was positioned in front of me. He folded his legs, looking at me like I was the dumbest person he had ever known. I sighed sadly. Kissing him was a bad idea. It wasn't even a good kiss, more like a peck but still… Thinking back to his tender lips on mine, the sweet taste of those plump babies I'd always dreamt of feeling and finally feeling them. It was worth every uneasiness, and every trouble afterward.

I traced my lips with my fingers, smiling goofily and forgetting Tristan was there. He smacked my hand away from my lips with a huff and a puff. "Sis, snap out of it," he snapped, "you are acting like a lovesick puppy, stop that. Okay, you kissed him, big deal. It's not like he's going to go on his knees tomorrow and propose marriage to you," I raised my hand and smacked his thigh. He was wearing gray shorts, shorts that almost made his porcelain skin look like it was glowing. Tristan had a weird skin condition that made his skin look like glowing porcelain during the day and olive at night. I'd tried to understand it a lot of times in the past, then just gave up along the way. As long as it didn't bring him harm, it was fine.

"Stop being so mean and sarcastic, you haven't even heard the whole story," I said in annoyance.

"I would if you would just tell me instead of stroking your lips. Now what happened?" I rolled my eyes but still told him everything. He rolled his eyes at my dramatic moments and murmured some things to himself whenever I sighed about how sexy Zayne was. When I was done, he flicked my forehead very hard.

"Ow," I cried. "What was that for?!"