So On

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Twenty Questions? No Shit

Leo and Nichole were creepy today.

More than creepy, actually. They matched the expressions of those confined in mental institutes - those wide open eyes seeming as if they just saw something new to play with, those even wider grins that’d beat a Cheshire cat’s any day, and those maniacal laughs serial killers make before they slaughter their next victim.

Stop for a moment and imagine their faces, please. It’s horrible. Horrible.

But the thing worse than the looks on their faces was the information they managed to get.

Hint: Brandon’s neck.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened to it. The mark on his skin was obviously not just an insect bite. And it was also clear who had done it.

Miraa,” Leo sang my name as Nichole teasingly combed my hair with her fingers. This was so scary. They were so scary.

I’m admitting it. So that’s saying something.

“Yeah?” I stifled a gulp. Leo snickered before joining his girlfriend play with my hair.

“Brandon was glowing yesterday. What’d you guys do?” He already knew the answer to that. He just wanted to make fun of me. This brat.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I mumbled. Then I swatted their hands off my hair. Nichole giggled.

“Did you violate any rules now?”

I shook my head casually, trying my best to act natural. I hated it when people see me get flustered. “No. It didn’t last for more than ten minutes.”

“What didn’t last, Mira?” Leo asked again, this time, his tone was in a sing-song voice and I held back to urge to slap him.

“The session.” I simply said.

The stupid couple also known as my best friends gave each other knowing grins before they sent me looks of approval.

“Good job.” They chorused, both giving me a thumbs up.

I honestly think I did a pretty bad job.

“Would you guys cut it out?” I told them, my words sounded like a long groan. “We were just messing around. You know it’s because of the game. If it weren’t for the game, I wouldn’t have made any moves.”

It was natural for me to say something like that, but when I did, I felt like I’ve been pricked in the chest. Weird body.

“Of course,” Nichole said, not serious at all. She knew. She knew I was just saving face. She was my best friend, of course she knew.

Leo poked my cheek. “You know it’s not about the game anymore. You like him, don’t you?”

What?” I can’t believe he just said that. “No. Leo no. I’m serious in this game. You know me.”

“Yeah, I do know you,” he replied. “And I know Brandon too. I know you two like each other and you’re just making the game an excuse. What I don’t know is why you’re even making an excuse.”

I shook my head frantically. He was wrong. He was just so wrong. I didn’t like Brandon. I was attracted to his looks, yeah, and he was kinda sweet at times, but that doesn’t mean I liked him.

“You watch way too many dramas with Nichole,” I said. “Leo, I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me in that way. We’re just playing.”

I’m right. I should be right. Right?

Leo didn’t look convinced. “Why waste so much time in this game if it’ll lead nowhere?”

I was silent. How did a playful conversation turn so serious? Was this even serious? Or was I the only one thinking of it this way?

Nichole held Leo’s arm, as if telling him to stop talking. My silence just proved how right he was. The game was just an excuse.

But an excuse for what? Call me the densest person in the world but I don’t even know my own feelings. Do I like him? I don’t think so. Maybe? A little bit? A little bit too much? But isn’t that just impossible? No. I have to make sure before I call it quits.

But even if I did like him, I’d rather die than tell him. Not unless he tells me first.

My pride is queen.

I was just about to look for Brandon when I saw no other than Samuel Ink walking towards our table. He wasn’t looking at me. Rather, his eyes were focused on Nichole.

Out of instinct, I stepped forward, semi-blocking Nichole from his view. I held her wrist protectively, and it seems like Leo had the same thoughts as me because he did the same.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” Samuel spoke defensively, looking at Leo, and then at me. “I just want to apologize to her.”

I know I shouldn’t trust him after what he did, but somehow I believed his words. I must be going crazy. I glanced at Leo and he nodded.

“Let’s talk. The three of us,” Leo said, sounding more serious than the usual idiot I hung out with.

Samuel nodded stiffly as he followed them somewhere. Nichole sent me a meaningful glance, telling me they were gonna be right back, and it was okay so don’t worry.

I smiled, feeling reassured. Leo was there. And Sam didn’t seem like a really bad person. It’s up to them now. I’m stepping out. It’s none of my business anymore.

“Remind me again why I’m here,” I asked as Brandon set the tray of snacks on his bed. I was currently sprawled on the floor, waiting for him to feed me.

He took a potato chip from the tray before he sat down beside me. He was about to take a bite from it, but when he saw my expression, he smirked and gave it to me. Fed it to me, to be more exact.

“Because,” he explained, grabbing the tray from the bed and placing it in front of us so we could get better access to those heavenly potato chips. “Leo and Nichole are at your apartment. Talking. It makes sense that we stay here while they’re there.”

“But what are they talking about that they can’t even share it with us? I’m so curious. And it’s so suspicious.” I pointed a finger at my open mouth. Brandon understood so he took another potato chip and fed me again.

I’m so spoiled.

“Maybe it’s about their relationship?” He suggested. I gasped.

“Do you think they’re breaking up?!”

He shook his head frantically. “No! That’s not what I’m saying. Leo and Nichole break up? Impossible.”

I sighed in relief after my exaggerated outburst. “Right.”

I really want to know what Samuel told them. How did he apologize? Did he explain to them what he couldn’t explain to me? More importantly, did they forgive him?

I know I said it’s none of my business anymore but I’m just so curious.


A few minutes passed, and we were just there quietly eating potato chips, staring at his ugly wall too.

Not that I was complaining about the potato chips. They were awesome.

“Wanna play a game?” Brandon suggested out of the blue. I nodded, thinking it was a good idea to pass time and boredom. “You know twenty questions?”

I nodded again. It’s a simple game where he asks and I answer, then I ask and he answers. It sounds like a normal conversation, but the questions are usually not that friendly, you know, to spice things up.

Knowing Brandon, his questions will be unsurprisingly ridiculous.

“You start.” I said. He shot me a wry smile. I knew that look. That look did not mean he was going to ask decent questions.

“Do you have any siblings?”

I looked at him weirdly. So he started with a normal question.

I still don’t trust this guy.

“No, I’m an only child. Do you have any friends aside from Leo and us?”

This time, he gave me a weird look, as if he couldn’t believe I even asked that

“Of course I do. I hang out with a lot of people, but you, Leo and Nichole are my best friends, so that’s why I’m with you guys now.”

Wow. Did he just call me his best friend? Why do I feel so happy all of a sudden?

“My turn,” he said after I approved of his reply. “Have you ever liked a girl before?”

My mouth hung open. And then I smacked him on the shoulder. He was trying to control his chuckles. “Stupid question Brandon. Just because I’m manlier than you and Leo doesn’t mean I’m actually a man. And the obvious answer to your question is no.”

I was holding my glare at him, but since he was shaking in laughter, I couldn’t help but stifle my own. Laughing was traitorously contagious.

“Shut up. Have you ever looked at Leo in a different way? Like, not in a bro kind of way. But in a ’oh my gosh he’s so cute and I’m living with him, EEP!′ kind of way?”

“Nope,” he replied coolly. Damn it. He probably knew I was going to ask that so he was prepared. “How was your first kiss?”

I hid a blush. He didn’t know he was my first kiss. I hope he doesn’t ask. Please, please don’t ask.

I sent him a confident smile. “Nice. Not very appropriate for a first kiss, but nice. What about you? How was your first kiss?”

He smiled as well. “Awesome. The girl initiated it though.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Do girls always initiate the kiss with him? Because I did. Now I feel so stupid.

“When was your first kiss?” He asked.

Bam. Do I really need to answer that? Ugh. Can’t I just lie? Why can’t I lie?

I stalled by studying his room before I replied, looking at him in the eyes. At least he won’t think I’m flustered if I look at him in the eyes. “Yesterday.”

The grin on his face vanished as soon as I delivered my reply. Why was he so surprised? Why am I so honest?


“Yup.” I said quickly. “My turn. Who was your first kiss?”

I don’t get him. Why was he getting flustered? I was the one who was supposed to be flustered. Not that I wanted to be, but it’s just weird. I’m practically just repeating his questions in a different fashion.

I looked at him expectantly. He was fiddling with the potato chip on his palm. Poor chip. Why was he so nervous? Now I was curious to know who his first kiss really was.

I know I won’t be surprised if he said it was Leo.

“Umm,” he mumbled weakly, stalling by studying his room as well. This is so fun. I am enjoying every second of this - watching him get flustered, I mean. “You.”

“You?” I dumbly asked, still smirking. And then I realized what he just said. “Wait. You? Me? You mean me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly. “We were each other’s first kiss. Isn’t that just peachy?”

I was stunned. How was I supposed to reply to that?! This is... Is this embarrassing? I don’t know. What am I feeling? My chest feels like it’s going to explode.

“I... How many questions was that now?” I tried to dodge the topic. Oh my God. Really?

“Don’t know. I wasn’t counting,” he smiled. Shit. Don’t smile at me. “So, if I’m your first kiss, I was your first... Uh... Hickey? I mean, the first one to give you a hickey?”

I stiffly nodded. I look so lame right now.

Those were very inappropriate first kisses in my opinion.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “No wonder you were so mad at that time. Well... Um... I’m sorry.”

“Then I gave you your first hickey too?” I returned his question. This is kinda getting awkward. And is it just me, or is the room getting warmer?

I saw the red travel up his neck to his ears. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, next question.” I said.

Change the subject. Change the subject.

“How much do you like potatoes?”

My questions are so awesome.

He snorted. “As much as I like cheese.”

“Cheese?” I gasped, temporarily forgetting about that awkward moment just now. Cheese. Mmm. Cheese. “Marry me.”

He burst into a fit of chuckles. I don’t know, but I liked the way he laughed. It was just so boyish, but his voice was deep and manly at the same time.

“I thought I’d be the one asking that question someday but of course, you had to beat me to it.” And then he continued laughing.

I bit my lip. Did he even know what he just said? Did he know how I’d interpret what he just said? Did he know he was a stupid idiot for making me take this a bit too seriously?

Don’t say things you don’t mean, damn it.

I hate over thinking.

“Okay,” he said, calming down from his laughter now. I don’t get why he laughed so much. Was it that funny? Was it that much of a joke to him? “My turn. Are you a mommy’s girl or a daddy’s girl?”

I stopped in my thoughts. He looked at me patiently, waiting for my answer. He had no idea at all how that question stung an old wound in my chest.


But since getting sentimental and crying and being gay is not my style, I just answered bluntly, like the usual.

“None. I love my mom. My dad’s dead.”

It took him a few seconds to make a reaction. A guilty one.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

I gave him a small smile before I rolled my eyes and clarified my previous statement. “My dad’s not actually dead. But he’s dead to me.”

He looked confused for a moment. He just stared at me, probably debating whether to ask what I just meant or not. He chose not to.

The air got heavy and I despised that feeling, so I continued the game. It was my turn to ask. “What about you? Momma’s boy or daddy’s boy?”

His face lit up before he got to answer. I was guessing he was really fond of his family. Which reminds me of a question I’ve been meaning to ask him.

He formed a grin on his face and folded his arms against his chest. He looked so proud. “Both. I’m spoiled by my mom, and my dad’s my best friend.”

I couldn’t help but smile warmly at his reply. “Such a good boy.”

“Yeah,” the glint in his eyes faded for a bit - just a little bit. It was barely noticeable, but I saw it. Er, saw something, if that makes any sense. “Even if they’re not my real parents. I love them to death.”

There. A huge bomb just blew up in my mind when he said that. My curiosity got ahead of my tact, so I asked.

“You’re adopted?”

He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off me, as if to see what my reaction would be. I didn’t flinch or anything if that’s what he was expecting. “Yeah. Did that make you like me less?”

My heart clenched and I unintentionally shot him a glare. How could he say that? “Adopted or not, you’re still Brandon. That doesn’t change anything. And it’s not even a big deal. Were you worried about that?”

He laughed softly. Thank God it didn’t sound forced. It came out naturally, as if he was relieved. So what if he was adopted? He’s still a human being. “Kind of. I was bullied because of that before.”


Just because he was adopted, it became a good enough reason to bully him? I unconsciously felt my fists clench and anger boil inside my chest. I don’t understand why I feel mad for him.

He chuckled lightly. “I wanted to apologize to those kids who bullied me. But I never got the chance to.”

I looked at him strangely, my mouth was slightly open. Did I hear him right? He wants to apologize to those bullies? He didn’t mean the other way around?

“What do you mean?” I asked, raising a brow.

He shook his head and laughed. It wasn’t his usual laugh. It sounded like a bitter release of frustration concealed in a laugh. I knew. Because I did that a lot in the past. Sometimes even now.

He stretched his arms behind his back. I knew he was just avoiding the question. I don’t know anything about him at all.

I don’t know why I feel sort of... rejected.

What. No! No. If there’s someone doing the rejecting it’s me.


My pride is such a bitchy queen.

“I don’t know how many questions we’re at now,” Brandon said. “But I’ll keep on asking. Okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled. I wasn’t satisfied with the lack of details he was providing me with, but I guess he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me. Or he’s just uncomfortable with the subject. I don’t know, but I’ll drop it.

He sent me a mischievous grin, a look full of confidence. I think I know where this was going. I gave him a warning glare in reply.

“Did you like my kisses?” He asked.

I gaped at him. His grin widened when he saw my reaction. I felt my heart do a big flip and my breath hitched traitorously in my throat. Just when things were getting a bit personal, he just had to ask that.

This jerk wants me to get flustered again.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Brandon if he didn’t say something like that sooner or later. Okay Mira, do your thing.

I forced the corner of my lips to curl up, though I doubt it ended up looking like an irritated twitch or something, but whatever.


He leaned in a bit, his grin growing wider, more playful. “Maybe, huh.”

My gaze narrowed and got fixated on his neck. What have I gotten myself into?

“Did you like mine?”

I put on my most - uh - seductive smirk. I don’t know. I probably look ridiculous. I hope he doesn’t laugh. I need to practice this damn look in the mirror later.

I can see he perfected that look, much to my disadvantage. Damn it.

“I enjoyed it.” He smiled, leaning closer.


Did I just gulp?

Is he gonna kiss me?

“Good,” I replied, hoping my voice didn’t croak. Why was he looking at me like that? When did he get so near?

“Twenty questions or not, I’ll make this the last question,” he said in more like a whisper. The intense look in his eyes caused the blood-pumping organ in my chest to flutter. Oh dear. “Do you want to kiss me again?”

I just stared at him blankly. Was this a test? A tease? A joke?

I steadied my breath and maintained the game face I’d been practicing on since I met this jerk of a potato.

He was staring at me. A long and expectant stare. No, it was more like a gaze. Or a wild look. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me too, because it seemed like his lips were zooming in. I mean, he was getting closer. I mean...

What? What was I saying again?

Well. Whether he was testing me or not, I don’t think I even care if I pass or fail at the moment.

I guess there wasn’t anything wrong with my vision because he really was so close right now. I felt his warm breath fan my face, his eyes studied my eyes, my nose, down to my lips.

I didn’t realize his hands were already cupping my cheek, and my own hand had found its way to Brandon’s chest.

I released a breath when his lips brushed just a little bit on mine, as if to let me savor the feeling or to tease me - torture me. Damn you to hell potato. “Yes.”

Then he kissed me.

A/N: Happy Blood-Pumping Organs Day to everybody! Keep those annoying little beasts inside your cages healthy, alright?

Trivia: I just swallowed a piece of chocolate without chewing it. It was so good - it had almonds in it! Yum. I’m awesome, I know.

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