INTERLUDE II

MIKAYLA

. . .

"May God bless you and keep you; may the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; may He lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace." My Dad cups my face, kissing my forehead as he blesses me with the Lord's Word. How lovely.

"Amen," I smile, nodding my head as I pull back.

Holding the plate, then I feed him the cake. It is my fourteenth birthday, after all! One of my favorite days of the year which I celebrate at least for a month.

He holds my wrist, enjoying the entire piece. I giggle, wanting to give him my whole cake. He then takes another piece and feeds me. I only have half of it, putting down the rest after he cuts it.

After that, I feed my Mama and my other family members. When I cut more pieces to serve my friends, including Blondie because I had no other way than to invite him, I happily serve them. But not when I come face to face with Blondie.

Why are the pieces still left?

"Congrats for finally being fourteen years old on this earth."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. I am the prettiest. He is just jealous of my beauty.

"Have it." I put the plate in front of him. So what? Does he think I am going to feed him? By no means!

He hums, taking the plate. I turn to walk away when he holds my arm and turns me again to face him. What does he want now? I stare at him confusedly but the next, I gasp as he stains my face with that piece.

"Wishing you the happiest birthday, Mickey!"

My jaws clench and so do my fists which I so desperately want to use on his face. But I control this urge, hearing the dumb kids around me laugh loudly at my insult because unlike those sweet and lovely ways of staining faces with birthday cakes, he pasted the plate right in my face. Mannerless jerk!

He also joins the laughing dumb kids, fueling my anger.

This Blondie of Indian parents!

"Oh, Barak! Why did you do it? Mickey doesn't compromise when it's about her face!" My Aunt utters, chuckling at I don't know what! What the hell is funny about my pretty face getting ruined because of this idiot?

He smiles at her. "We're friends, Aunt." Wait—since when? We are enemies! "And it's her birthday; she won't say anything. Right, Mickey?" Urgh! Stop it!

He gives me one sugary smile, looking down at me. He takes the plate in his hand, showing me the leftover sticking to the surface.

And yeah, down at me because years have passed and he has grown taller and quite big compared to our childhood. How sad. I cannot even call him Shortie anymore. Why did this happen? He sometimes tries to scare me with this huge posture but he should not forget that I am Mikayla Uriel, and I will, by no means, get scared of him!

Keeping the bitter words on my tongue, I only smile back at him with the same attitude.

He smirks and I quickly walk away to wash my face. Ew! It feels sticky.

I run into the bathroom and clean my face, drying it with the towel as I tap it delicately.

And now about Blondie. Just wait and watch what I will do to him!

I go to the hall and see the lights are dim as everybody is celebrating. Among them is Blondie, talking with a friend, standing by a couch.

Walking downstairs, I scan him down. He is wearing a gray hoodie and blue jeans. His hair is ruffled and I find a few girls gawking at him.

Why do they? He is so annoying!

My gaze falls upon his shoe and an idea pops into my head.

I tip toe to him, saving myself from everybody's eyes. I crouch beside the settee, hiding behind it. I stretch out my arms, keeping an eye on him and tie his shoelaces with one another.

Getting done with my task, I get up. I go to face him and take the phone from his hand as he stands unaware, not even thinking that a threat can come from any direction, especially when he is in my territory.

He frowns, stepping ahead to get the phone back but uh-huh! How can he?

He stumbles upon the floor, hitting his knees. It catches everybody's attention and in return, he is insulted as we all laugh.

I can sleep peacefully tonight.

I crouch in front of him as he sits upright. I give him his phone and he snatches it, putting it inside the pocket of his jeans.

"Lovely, isn't it?" I cup my face, perching my elbows on my knees.

He scoffs, starting to untie his shoelaces. "You'll be rewarded for this," he mutters, glaring at me.

"You'll be rewarded for this," I mimic, rolling my eyes. I get up and walk away, excited to open my gifts. My Dad has gifted me ballet shoes and a crown and the box I opened by Blondie scares the shit out of me.

As I opened it, a joker came out and a horrible sound of dead people's laughter.

Everybody laughs but he doesn't, still giving me that butcher-type look. Keep looking, you won't even find any girl more beautiful than me. How lucky this Blondie is!

I scrunch my nose, opening other boxes. I have not even expected anything good from him.

After the celebration is over, I walk into my room and on my bed, I find another gift box. It is a small black box, and a red silky bow sits on it.

My lips stretch into a wide grin and I rush to it, kicking the door shut behind me. I put down my tiara on the bed and remove my shoes, dropping them beside my bed. I quickly open the box and there inside, I find a very pretty metal headband with blue stones inlaid in it.

"Aww," I almost whispered, taking it out. "How beautiful!" After my Dad's gift.

I jump out of the bed and stand in front of the mirror. I wear the headband and compliment myself. How beautiful I look!

｡ﾉ⁠♡

I huff, plopping upon the bench with a tired sigh. It is just the beginning of the day and I am being dramatic, I know. Not my fault. Dad said he won't be able to pick me up today because he needs to leave for work. And if about others, I have no expectations from them. I wish Mama knew driving.

Anyway, I am a big girl now. I can go back home alone. Just pray for me that it does not rain this afternoon or I will be drenched by the time I reach home because I don't have any umbrella with me.

Bless that Blondie because that stupid guy just broke my rose umbrella yesterday. But can Mikayla sit silent after this exploitation? No way! I broke his mobile screen in return — simple.

After that, he grabbed my notebook to tear it in pieces but truly blessed be his lovely mother who saved me from his wrath yesterday.

Thinking about Blondie Dawood, I am still taking deep breaths, staring at nothing particular and ignoring the boys around me hovering and greeting me.

He enters the classroom and the sound of whispers start heightening at his arrival. Who's whispering, you wonder? It's the blind girls of this school who say—

"He looks so pretty hair down! Gosh, his hair!"

Eww.

"He's so handsome! I wanna be his friend."

I prefer dying better.

"Ah! He is so fine in everything! I wanna kiss him!"

How am I still alive?

Ignoring everybody around, he walks in my direction. Why, you wonder? Well, this is normal and happens almost everyday—us quarreling like two toddlers.

He is here for vengeance because I broke his expensive mobile yesterday.

I get up, standing in the same place. Raising my chin high, I stare at him blankly. My grip tightens around the flute in my grip which I am supposed to play today in the class as Mrs Blackham asked me yesterday, and even I have prepared notes.

Looking dead in my eyes, he twists his bottom lip and the next, I hear the squeezy sound of something that grabs my attention.

Everybody around us gasps. Blondie looks down at my bench and shakes his head in fake pity. I follow his gaze and am horrified to see that he just splashed an entire tomato upon my notebook; the exact pages on which I prepared notes.

Holy cow!

I pinch the corner of my notebook, holding it in the air. Red sour liquid drops down my notes, staining my bench as well while I stare at the ruined sheets.

Oh, no!

They have absorbed the liquid easily and I feel tears burning my eyes but I am not going to cry over this. Not especially in front of him.

He leans closer and mutters into my ear, "Tit for tat." He walks away while everybody is still silent.

And he thinks I won't give him anything in return? So wrong, Mr Dawood.

Slamming the notebook upon my bench, I turn around to check where he is sitting. I go to the second last bench of the same row as mine and stand beside his bench.

"What?" He asks in a bored tone, putting down his notes and flute. He bends to take a seat when I kick it away. Unaware of my audacity, he falls, hurting his buttocks and ending up hiss under his breath.

A few dumb students snicker around us. Very well. They should laugh at him, too.

"Well, tit for that," I answer, smirking at him. Even though the fire in my chest is still unquenched, I walk back to my desk, taking a seat.

He comes again and grips my notebook.

"Give it back to me!" I stand up to take it back but he holds it high in the air, taking advantage of his long height.

You Blondie of Indian parents!

"I said, give it back!" I utter but paying no heed to my voice, he tears down my notes, leaving me appalled. After my notes are utterly ruined, he drops them back on my bench and walks away.

"You stupid brat!" I utter, pushing on his back.

"And you annoying monkey!" He retorts back, gripping the lapel of my jacket.

"How dare you?"

"And how dare you?"

"Barak and Mikayla! In the principal's office! Right now!" Well, who called her?

And the next, we are standing before the principal of our school. He is glaring at us while we are staring at the floor, holding hands.

Not each other's, I must mention.

"I'm tired of your daily quarrels, Mr Dawood and Miss Uriel. If you are caught misbehaving in class like this again, I will have to throw you both out of school."

No language.

"And tomorrow both of you will bring your parents."

"But Sir—"

"Well, it's not something new, is it, kids? Both of you have considered all this to be a joke, so tomorrow I will also crack some jokes with your parents."

"Sir, please—"

"I'm done. You may leave now."

Finding no other way, we walked out of the office. As soon as we are two doors away from the old man's abode, I accuse him, "All because of you, mannerless jerk! You always come to me so you can fight. Learn some manners! You even ruined my notes. How am I supposed to play? But you go back into the class and laugh with your idiot friends because finally you've succeeded."

Having done with it, I stride away from his presence. Around him, I feel nausea. But thanks to the wet green trees around me which evoke the mesmerizing scent.

But just as I am a few steps away, I gasp audibly as he grabs my ponytail and pulls me back, pinning me against the wall.

"Are you crazy?" I hold my pretty hair which he just mishandled even though it was not painful.

"You think you can walk away after venting out your frustration upon me? What you have considered of me, huh? The principal has called my parents, too, not yours alone and insulting is for me because you have no reputation at all."

"Acha? What's your reputation here? Don't hide it—you carry chits with yourself so you can cheat!"

"Daddy's princess, ask your Daddy to bring you specs!"

"My eyes are alright! Or else how can you get good marks when you're this evil?"

"By studying hard. Unlike you, I don't get lottery numbers."

"I study till midnight, you dumb jerk!" I yell at him, pushing on his chest as he stumbles back. How dare he say that? I work hard and about him, I know he does nothing hardworking which can give him this position.

Liar!

Holding this stupid urge to break into tears, I walk away. He does not bother me after that for the entire day even when we share classes.

In the end, I am standing at the exit, sheltered by the roof and looking up at the dark sky and listening to the peaceful sound of rain falling on the floor, hitting the pools of puddles. Magical scent of nature surrounds me and I miss my umbrella.

I push my hands into the pocket of my jacket, sighing. I can't help but rub my thighs, keeping in mind that nobody is watching me. I should have gone out and bought another umbrella yesterday but I kept myself busy making notes.

Funnily, I could not even play before Mrs Blackham and gather some compliments which I truly deserved. She is utterly angry with us.

Another student passes by and I stare at her red umbrella. Two more students followed her, paying no need to me unlike the entire day as they wagged their tails like puppies behind me to get some help in tests.

Fake people. I hate them.

After fifteen minutes pass which I spend checking my wristwatch in the middle, someone comes behind me, nudging my shoulder.

I look at my side, finding Blondie who is staring at the rain.

"If you're here to make fun of me because you're so proud of breaking my umbrella yesterday, then get lost; I don't care."

I stare at him from the corner of my eye, watching him roll his eyes. The nerve of this guy.

"My Mama is waiting for us outside. Let's go now. Aunt Damaris asked me to give you a ride."

"Mama called you?"

He hums.

"Very well. Let's go."

We step out of the building, sharing the same umbrella — his umbrella. I fold my arms on my chest, hugging myself. It is cold around and my legs bear the torture.

As soon as we are inside the car after I greet his mother, I sigh in relief as the warm temperature inside is like bliss to my legs. I lean back, rubbing my thighs above my skirt. Sad are the autumn days for girls.

"Isn't it nice when you help each other?" His mother comments, looking at us through the rear view mirror.

We smile at her, nodding our heads but deep inside, I want to say, "No. Not at all."