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The Potato Chapter


"Rule number one, no buying or paying for anything for the other party. That's considered bribing," he stated as I wrote down what he said on the little notebook I barely used for class.

"Rule number two," I continued. "No physical contact."

"What?" He complained. "Then how am I going to seduce you?"

I chuckled cruelly before placing my pen down on the table. Seems like this was going to be a long argument. "Seduce me how, actually? By touching? Brandon, I'll rip your arm off."

"Then," he mumbled. "If that rule is agreed on, I can't touch you and you can't hit me?"

I nodded my head, and then I stopped. We both thought about it. I don't think that rule will last since I can't take not hitting him, and he probably can't keep his hands to himself.

"Alright we'll just write the specifics," I mumbled, taking my pen again.

"You guys are taking this way too seriously," Leo said as he continued munching on his chicken sandwich.

It was Monday and we were currently having lunch at the cafeteria. And as soon as Brandon and I saw each other again, we sat down and talked business immediately. Nichole and Leo quietly sat down next to us.

I ignored Leo as I thought about what to write next. Specifics, specifics.

"Holding hands and hugging is fine," I said.

"Hugging as in, in any area, or are there any restricted areas I can't touch?" He asked. Leo chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant.

I didn't quite get it, but I knew it was something stupid. Nichole snorted at my stoic reaction.

"You'll know what not to touch if you don't want to lose your fingers one after another." I said seriously.

He smirked as I wrote it down. Before we could make another rule, Nichole raised her hand.

"Yeah?" Brandon asked. Nichole smiled a bit suspiciously.

"Kissing is allowed," she suggested.

Brandon nodded in agreement quickly, but I was dead-set on disapproving. "Hell no. I'm not exchanging spit with him. Direct or not."

He pouted. I had to convince myself that it wasn't adorable. "You make everything about me sound so unappealing."

"That's because everything about you is unappealing."

"We'll see about that," he mumbled. "I want kissing to be allowed. I'll make you change your mind."

I hated how confident he sounded.

"I said no."

"Don't tell me you're afraid?" He smirked. "You know you liked it when I kissed your neck."

I was trembling in anger but I held it in yet again. The one who loses his temper first loses all.

I looked at him, grinning slyly. "If that's what you'd call a kiss. Pft." He was about to to say something, but I quickly continued. "Fine. We'll allow kissing. But there's a time limit."

"Thirty minutes!" Leo slammed his hand on the table, chunks of his sandwich showered upon Nichole's hair. She hit him.

"Twenty minutes?" Brandon suggested. I shook my head.

"Five," I challenged.

"Fifteen," he said.

"Ten."

"Ten minutes it is," he said satisfied as he pressed his back against the chair. Did he just trick me?

I wrote down the third rule. "Rule number three. Kissing is allowed but only for a maximum of ten minutes per day."

"You'll be begging for more. Nobody can resist these kissable lips."

I snorted a bit too loud and ended up laughing like a madwoman. It was hilarious and at the same time irritating at how confident he was. "Screw you and your ego Brandon."

"Screwing, huh?" He leaned against the table again. "That allowed?"

"You can dream of it," I replied. I wanted to applaud myself for that smart comeback. "Rule number four, no pet names."

"What!" He complained again. I sighed in exasperation.

"What now?"

"I can't call you any endearments? That's like, so plain."

"Are you serious?" I huffed. "Names like baby, sweety, boo, bae, honey and other shit. I don't like it!"

He whined, turning to Leo for support. Our best friend just shrugged his shoulders. "C'mon Mira stop being such a granny. Let him call you those things. It's just a game right?"

My eye twitched. Granny?

I looked at Brandon intensely before sighing again. "Fine. But only ones I approve of. Now give me what you're planning to call me so I can write it down."

A triumphant grin crossed his face when I said that. "Potato."

My jaw dropped.

"Potato?" I almost broke my pen. Is he making fun of me? "Why a fucking potato?"

"Because potatoes are delicious." He replied easily. "Potato wedges, potato chips, potato fries, mashed potatoes. Awesome."

Why do I even bother with this idiot.

"Fine," I gave up. "Potato it is then." I was about to write it down when I noticed he was looking at me with the accursed puppy-eyes. "What?"

"What are you going to call me?" He looked like an excited kid in a toy store. Seriously? He wanted me to call him something stupid too? Why the fuck did I agree to this stupid game.

I raked my brain for some possible options. Cheese? Chip? Chicken? No, I'm just naming food.

Shithead? Douchebag? Dickwad? No, those weren't even endearments.

What the hell am I going to call him?

I give up.

"Uuhh..." I mumbled. Why is this so damn hard?! "Can't I just call you what you call me?"

"You want us to call each other potato?" He asked, sounding amused. I had to refrain myself from strangling him.

"Yeah."

"Okay," he said, pleased. "I'll be in your care from now on, potato."

Cry.

After I wrote all those things down, he gave the last rule, probably because it was almost time for our next class. "Rule number five, if any of the rules mentioned are violated, the punishment will be decided by our most trusted best friends, Nichole Shirley and Leonard Bennett."

We all agreed.

I gave Brandon a copy of those rules and we both signed on each of the copies. After that we shook hands.

The game starts now.


"Babe," he wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we passed through the crowded hallways. "Baby potato."

A few heads turned to stare at us, but Brandon didn't seem to care. I gave him a quiet smile. "What is it, soon-to-be mashed potato?"

He smiled as he tightened his grip around my shoulder and pulled me closer to his side. "Wanna go on a date?"

I giggled sarcastically before I changed my current position and turned around so I could look at his face. His hands fell down to my waist as he waited for me to speak. "As much as I want to, my potato darling, I can't. I have detention for four more days."

His face didn't fall like I expected. Instead, he looked determined. See, this is the thing about idiots. They demand to be unpredictable.

"I'll wait."

That scared me. Maybe because I knew he really will.

"Don't," I said. I don't really want him to wait three hours for me again while sitting on the floor. "I'll just make it up to you next time."

"I'll wait," he said, firmly.

I sighed. "Brandon."

"Mira." He matched my tone. "I said I'll wait. I want to."

I watched him closely and noticed he was serious. What. Brandon, serious?

"Fallen for me yet?" He smirked. I scoffed before swatting his hands off my waist.

I knew it.

"Alright. Fine, wait there," I said, smiling sweetly at him. I'll make him like me first. There's no way I'm losing this game. "Then we'll go on a date. Deal?"

He smiled in return. "Deal. See you in three hours sweet potato."

He sat on the floor beside the door of the detention room like a good kid as I entered the room of boredom. Was it wrong that I was getting unusually excited about the date?

Why were we even playing this game? And what happens after one of us ends up really liking the other? What then?

I don't want to know. I don't need to know. After this, everything will be back to normal, before the milkshake thing ever happened. And Brandon and I won't talk to each other again. Simple as that.

I shouldn't be bothered.


Brandon took me to the mall to watch a movie. To watch a horror film.

I smiled to myself. He thought he could see my weakness with horror films? Sucks for him then, because I love horror films, especially the gory ones.

I didn't tell him that though. I want to see what he'd do during the movie. If he'd secretly hold my hand or casually put an arm around my shoulder like those cliche stories I've read about.

We shall see who has the bigger balls between the two of us.

Of course, as stated in rule number one, we paid for our tickets and snacks separately. After we got out of the long line, we went inside the theater immediately, picking the best seats for viewing the movie.

The movie hadn't started yet, so I decided to glance around the place. My eyes narrowed when I saw nothing but couples everywhere. Seriously though.

The lights turned dim, and then the movie started.

It begins.


"Stupid bitch don't open the fucking door!" I mumbled to myself. We were in the middle of the movie now. The part where the stupid girl opens the door with the killer behind it. Typical horror.

"Scared?" Brandon whispered quietly into my ear. I smirked. Did he really think I was more scared than annoyed at the dumb main character?

"Oh very," I said.

"Don't worry," he held my hand, squeezing it gently before planting a small kiss. "You can just throw yourself at me if you get scared enough."

Even in the dark I could feel the smug look growing on his face. It was, yes you know it, annoying. But at the same time challenging.

"Right back at you, you rotten potato," I pressed my lips against his ear, causing him to take a sharp intake of breath. Bet he didn't expect that now did he.

The sound effects of the movie were surprising us every minute. Every minute we'd jump in our seats and utter a shocked yelp or two, but our hands were still entangled. Which for me was scarier than the movie.

He won't let go.

I glanced at him secretly. He was so focused on the screen.

"I have to go to the bathroom for a bit," I told him before standing up. I tried to withdraw my hand but he just tightened his grip all the more. I stared at him.

"Don't go Mira," he said.

"Brandon..." I looked deep into his serious eyes. It was such an intimate moment, the darkness was slightly disappearing because of the different lights the screen produced, and those lights reflected on his eyes.

Yes, such an intimate moment.

And then I laughed.

"You're scared."

He gave me a quick glare before his eyes went back to the screen. He'd rather look at the horror film than my victorious grin. Wimp.

"No I'm not," he replied childishly.

I sat back down and caressed his hair, cooing teasingly at his ear. "Don't worry about it my frightened little potato," I whispered. "You can just throw yourself at me if you get scared enough."

"You're wrong, sadistic potato," he mumbled, turning his head. Our noses bumped into each other and I felt our hot breaths mixing. "I'm not scared."

I slowly watched what was happening in the movie from the corner of my eye. I didn't know why I didn't back away. The movie was getting to the good part I suppose, because people were hanging on to their seats, and the sound effects were so quiet - it was heart-pounding.

After that silence, the expected surprise came, and the killer appeared. The sounds were so loud it was enough to give me a mini heart-attack. I was about to scream but unexpectedly... Brandon beat me to it.

His scream was cut short when he held a hand to his mouth. The rest of the audience were still screaming. I was too busy laughing to scream along with them.

"Po..." I tried to breath along my laughter. "Potato..." I couldn't help it. It was so fucking hilarious.

"S-Shut up. The sounds surprised me," he was trying to avoid my face but that just made me laugh out more.

"Loser potato..." I choked out in between laughs. "Scaredy potato."

"Shut up potato." He mumbled softly.

The rest of the movie was history. I didn't know what happened after that scene. All I know is that I was laughing my ass off at a certain frightened potato.


Trivia:

I wrote this after watching a horror film. Just so you know, I wasn't scared. *looks around* The sound effects just surprised me. That wasn't me screaming last night. And no, I most certainly did not stay wide-awake the whole night, replaying the scenes of that movie. Nope. Not me.

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