TRIS:
If there was someone I hated more than anything in this world, it would be Tobias Eaton. Or 'Four', as everyone calls him.
And yes, 'Four' as in the number. Stupid, huh? Of course only he and every other empty minded person in Middle School thought that that was a cool name and best suited him because it was the number on his football jersey.
I mean, I play basketball and my jersey number is six. Does anyone ever call me, Six? No. Why? Because to do so would be stupid. Period. End of story.
And it isn't only his name that annoys me. His face is annoying to look at; the fact that we're in the same class annoys me; his stupid grin and dark blue eyes annoys me; basically everything about him annoys me. And it all started in elementary school when he pushed me off of the school's swing set.
Now we're 12 and it's still going.
The swing set incident was simply just a start. An opening, you could call it. That very evening though, I decided to be the bigger person and move on from that. But did Tobias think the same? No!
The next day he just had to snap all my new coloured pencils in half; the very same coloured pencils that my dad had bought over the weekend as a gift for my birthday.
However, did it stop at that?
Ha! As if!
From then on, he'd find the smallest of ways to torture me whether it be 'accidentally' tripping me up or 'accidentally' hitting my books out of my hands. He even went so far as to 'accidentally' eating my lunch one day. He claimed that he confused our two lunch boxes together which was an entirely stupid excuse.
My lunch box was clear. His was the newest design out with a superman based theme and a place to put your water bottle. How the idiot had confused our two lunch boxes together was beyond me.
His treatment towards me kept on going though, with me doing absolutely nothing about it. I could take it. I was sure of it! But it wasn't until we hit Middle School that an unknown rivalry had started up between us.
It had begun when we got our test results for an unexpected Math quiz the day before. He had been confident that he did well and he did.
19 out of 20.
That was good. Great. Amazing even, considering that the quiz hadn't been planned.
When my test paper was handed back, I flipped it over to see that I had received full marks.
Without even realising it, Four Eaton was standing right behind me, peeking at my results. What made his presence known to me was the sound of scrunching paper.
It was his test.
They were in his hands which were now balled up into tight fists. He didn't even say a word after that. He just left without as much as a single glance. I didn't give much thought into it, just dismissing it with a shrug of the shoulders until months later when we received our scores for the next test we had done just a few days ago.
This time I scored 94%. I was content with that until a piece of paper landed on my desk.
In big, red marking, the percentage read 95%. Looking up, I was immediately met with arrogant, dark blue eyes. And for some reason, I let his boastful demeanour get to me.
Determined, I made it a goal to score higher than him in the next assessment.
Throughout the year, we competed with each other on who could place higher than other. Our way of finding out were secretive and unknown to each other.
Sometimes, he'd slip his results in my bag for me to see when I got home. Other times, I'd tape or glue mine to his lunch box.
Soon after, it wasn't just about academics anymore. Anything became a competition.
We competed for the title of class captain which he had obviously won. That was understandable. All the girls loved him and all the boys wished to be him. That was clearly an easy win for him. I'd even admit to that but that didn't give me any reason not to try.
Also in gym, by some miracle, we were always on opposite teams. The determination to do better than the other academically exceeded towards sports as well.
When his team would win, he'd walk past me with a massive grin and an ego as big as his head.
When my team would win, I'd make sure to scoff as we passed by each other.
At one stage, we had been partnered up together on a science project. Immediately, we both protested but the teacher set us straight and told us to get on to it.
And so we did.
It was a painful two weeks.
The first week was absolutely terrible. Pride and ego got in the way of our project and the rivalry between us led to nothing but disaster. Figuring out that it was best to set aside the competitiveness just for this project, we ended up doing alright as a partnership.
I learnt a few things about him and him, me. However, once those two weeks were up, the competition started up again. Anything we learnt about each other went through one ear and out the other.
The glares returned. The ego and pride grew bigger than ever. The slight bullying (him) occurred once more and the childish comebacks to that bullying (me) flew right back at him.
When the second semester of the second year of Middle School approached, I was more than prepared to show Eaton that I could beat him at anything he challenged me to.
That was until my father decided to move us across to Colorado.
-VI-
5 years later…
The time seems to be going at an awfully slow pace. Seated opposite me is my father, who looks extremely nervous as he fidgets with his hands.
I heaved a quiet breath as I silently watched him.
It's been 15 whole minutes since he's called me into the living room and not once has he spoken a word.
"Dad" I then let out, a sigh escaping also. He finally looks up to gaze at me, his expression expectant. I almost laughed at this. Almost. "Are you going to tell me the big news or not?"
He visibly gulps before playing with his fingers once more.
"Well, um..." he begins, rubbing his palms against each other. "You know Jeanine right?" I instantly nod.
On one of his business trips to Chicago he met an old friend by the name of Jeanine and they somehow reconnected. While he was there, they went out for "coffee" a few times and by the time he returned, I realised a slight change in my father's behaviour.
Happier. He seemed happier.
It took weeks for me to get out of him the reason as to why he was "glowing" so much and finally he came out with it.
I wasn't mad. Or sad even. It was just unexpected, that's all. After my Mom had died when I was young, I didn't think my dad would ever find love again. I was proven wrong.
Once a week, the pair would Skype each other and sometimes I'd join them. After a few days, I discovered that Jeanine had a daughter of her own. Nita is her name.
She seemed cool. After getting to know each other, we began to get along. I genuinely liked them and my dad knew about this.
Zoning back to present time, I raise an eyebrow impatiently. Finally, he spits the truth out.
"You know how, a few weeks back I told you I had business in Chicago to attend to?" I nod once more. "Well" he continues, "I, obviously, visited Jeanine while staying there and we discussed a few things and I think that we should move back."
I instantly freeze. Nothing but silence stretches between us but my father is quick to fill in the gap.
"I just… I feel like this thing between Jeanine and I is something worth investing our time and efforts in. I feel like it's… going to go somewhere, if you understand where I'm going with this." He whispers that last bit quietly.
And all I could do is nod. I think I know what's he's talking about.
I'm pretty sure that what he's talking about has something to do with a white gown, a circle band and is an event titled with the caption "the happiest moment of your life".
Yup, I'm quite sure that that is it.
After a while longer, I slowly flashed him a warm smile.
"I understand. And I trust your judgement."
My response had surprised him. He jolted up in seat before finally gaping at me, openly.
"Really?" he asks, the disbelief in his tone noticeable. Nodding vigorously, I shoot him a reassuring smile.
"Really" I answer. "I like them both. I think it's good that you're… loving again."
He gazes at me with soft eyes before standing up with outstretched arms. Walking into them, he wraps me into a big hug, his chin resting on my head.
"Thank you, Beatrice" he whispers. "Your mother, however, will always be my first love. Remember that."
I grinned at this.
"Of course" I reply. "But let's not turn this into a Cinderella moment, okay?" I ask, ruining the moment.
But he didn't seem to mind as he laughs and releases me, ruffling my hair while he was it.
"So…" he then begins, smiling brightly, "Pizza's or Burgers?"
I couldn't help but return the gesture.