Be My Girlfriend

Chapter Three

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There must have been a few instances that happened in my life that made me realize I wasn't putting my best effort on things I want to accomplish. A few ups and downs could have been recorded in mi kind of history. I had several bumps on walls here and there yet I continue to walk with a blindfold on and act like a usual idiot as if I've never learned anything from my mistakes.

Skipping school must top the list and often would I be called in the faculty room of my middle school for disciplinary measures. My mom, in spite of her poor health (that might have been triggered when dad left for another woman), would be dragged along. My brother would make me feel ten times as guilty than I should have until I burst into tears and run to her room and shout an apology while burying my face on her pillows. She would always forgive me and I would promise not to do it again. Until then, I kept my precious promise.

Promises are meant to be broken anyway.

Rushing my way through the busy crowd, I dodged over a few heads and groans of disapproval while trying my best to keep the pizza box intact. Shit or no shit, I have to earn some money until tonight before I get kicked out of the apartment, even though I doubt that it would be enough for the rent I'm due for two months. The scooter I was supposed to be mounting on stood useless behind an out of order telephone booth: main reason why I'm running for my delivery right now.

As soon as I touched the highway, the engine (that must have been a hundred years older than me) broke down and forced me to kick up a fuss in the middle of the road while I smashed it repeatedly with my helmet. A few curses later, I gave up and decided the delivery was more important than killing an inanimate object, which would obviously deem useless.

In spite of my innate ability of getting lost, a few minutes later, I found the right place and a half-naked red-haired guy greeted me with a faked, gentle smile, which kind of reminded me of Ootori. He tipped me double saying I delivered it a few minutes early and because I looked cute. Gosh, this part is what I hate about my job. Customers are strangers and strangers are more often than not, cannot be trusted. What happened to the good ol' 'Don't talk to strangers,' oracle chant?

When I got back to the shop, exhausted and spent (because I sprinted my way back), I consumed a whole liter of water and slumped on the corner where Shiki stood.

If you ask me about stereotypes, Shiki was one of those people who could pass as a high school guy who always got into serious trouble and who had the greatest number of girls around. At least for one thing, I was right. He always got into trouble. With his brown eyes and long ink-black hair, which he sported with a half-pony, he would have half of our female customers fall for him with a simple smile (and a single dimple) and a gentle face. But it always puzzled me why he never seemed interested to any of them. He could pass to me as a gay stereotype but then again, most of my guesses are always not right.

"What's up? You look haggard," he poked my cheek playfully and I failed to manage to give him an assuring smile.

"I'm broke." I told him. "I need money for my apartment rent," I pouted childishly and buried my face on my hands.

"Then why don't you ask your mom to send you some allowance?" he suggested rather boringly as he rummaged his pockets for some gum.

I gave him a glare and restrained myself from smacking my hand against the side of his head. "We're not rich, you know."

My mom's paycheck wouldn't even be enough to support her. She needed money for her medications due to her poor health and I know she has been working herself too much just to get them through, which is totally not a good idea. Seriously, over-work simply worsens things. It's also a good thing my brother is there to keep an eye on her in case something happens. And it's good enough that in spite of everything she's going through, she remains just as vivacious as ever.

"I guess I have to resort to loan sharks," I sighed. They've bottomed my list of options to where I would be able to get some money but I never knew I'm going to choose them in the end.

Shiki smacked me on the forehead painfully and added, "Not a good idea at all. Just go to your rich friends at school and ask help. They won't be full of shit (I guess)."

In a split-second, I shot up and to pat his head with a smile. I guess I have another option after all.

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Standing in front of the gate of the Ootori mansion is definitely a bad idea. After all, why did I even think of running to his aid in the first place? This is all piece of crap. Ootori is one of the people I don't like to see right now, not after he humiliated me in front of the whole class by declaring I'm his woman.

I hate him.

"Ashina?"

A voice called my name out and I recoiled. When I turned to look, Ootori stood there on his glorious bearing, as if he was the god of a tribe of some sort, his oh-so-lavish car parked right next to where he stood.

"Skipping school because of work overtime is a bad idea, you think so?"

He made his way up to me and I looked down, completely humiliating myself all over again. I mentally debated whether I should just go and run away or should I just let my guard down and borrow money from this guy.

"Ditching is a serious crime. Not to mention, working part time without the school's permission."

"I need this job!" It was rather harsh, I have to admit. I guess I just have to say sorry later.

I kept my eyes locked on my shoelaces.

"Hn—Ootori-san?"

"What is it?"

Okay, damned or not, I'd have to drop my pride and say it. "Lend me 50 thousand yen."

Silence—

"Pft." Next thing I knew, he was clutching his sides as his mirth dragged on.

I swear I'll strangle him to death.

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