FELIX

I arrive late to the dinner table after everyone's already settled. It's the time and place where I am forced to see my dad's bothersome face.

Everyone in the family is fully aware how much I begrudge dad, except dad. Sometimes, it feels like we just endure each other, other times, we simply don't agree. Between us, there's always a lot of clashing and head-butting. Whenever I get fed up with the dysfunctional family I'm so unlucky to have, Xian's house usually becomes the safe haven I go to. I adore my mom and my little sister, true, but it's not enough to help me weather the frustrations dad puts me through.

I pull backward the available chair reserved for me, collapse on it, and drag myself to the edge of the tampered glass table, facing a chinaware filled with rice. It's a dire period dining with the rest of my family, and frankly, it gets frustrating when dad is around.

As if it isn't enough that I have to literally force myself downstairs every evening, there were a bunch of ridiculous dinner rules he established and we must obey, like, using the right cutlery, finishing our food because he doesn't like food getting wasted... blah blah blah. He says it's our expression of gratitude.

"Pass me the salad," he requests. Mom lifts the bowl of salad seated at the centre of the dining table to his side. "Thank you, dear."

I look away, feeling weirded out by their love.

"So, Annie, how was school today?" He asks as he garnishes his plate.

"It was good," my eleven-year-old sister replies with food in her mouth. "We wrote a math test today, and I'm positive that I'll get an A+."

"That's impressive. Keep it up, and I promise to get you something cool for Christmas, okay?"

I roll my eyes as I continue with my food, eating as fast as I can, but not too fast that it becomes obvious I want to disappear from here soonest.

Dinnertime represents family bonding time but for me, it's like transgressing on my privacy and serenity of mind. I wonder why he sees it as the perfect moment to check up on his children. A stranger may just walk in on us and assume we are one loving and happy family.

"What about you, Felix?" He asks me, but with a more serious tone.

"Okay, I guess," I answer nonchalantly. Does he really think I will fill him in on how great my life is in school?

"How was the concert?"

"It was okay." I start to pick my rice with a fork, wishing this interrogation can end as quickly as possible so that I can enjoy the rest of the food in seeming peace.

"Just okay?"

Outwardly silent, but I grunt aloud in my head. I do not want to quarrel with him tonight and I plan on sticking to that. Masking my foul mood, I brighten up to answer him. "It was alright. We didn't win though, and you all weren't there to support me." I think that's satisfactory enough. He can stop bugging me now.

Who the heck am I even kidding? Playing on his conscience won't do anything.

"I'm sorry about that. Maybe next time. So, any assignments or class projects?"

Even his apology screams insincerity. Like, how on earth did I end up with a person like him for a father figure?

I've already given up long ago trying to impress him and make him proud of me after he snaked his way into my life. Now all I want from him is to leave me the hell alone.

"No projects, dad," I reply. "What can you even do about it?" That, I say under my breath.

"What did you say?"

"I have done all the assignments and projects," I lie very quickly. That's just precisely how he is. One minute he acts like he cares, the next, he's provoked by one little slip up. Miraculously, the food before me finishes so I won't have to bear answering his question any second longer. "I'm done eating." I place my cutlery down and find my way back to my room.

AGNES

My morning was going perfectly until I stumble into Ronald by accident. I collide into him along the hallway as I take a turn from the restroom, just before Literature class.

There's something obscure about him. Perhaps it's his buff size and superfluous attitude when he meets with people, or it's simply a feeling of arrogance. Nonetheless, people tend to ignore him while he tries so hard to please them.

"Hey Agnes," he greets, purposely blocking my path.

How I literally hold myself from stepping on his foot and walking out on him! The desire almost immediately dies when I find that the students around are all just minding their business. I opt for ignoring him, hoping he gets the memo and shoos away. Sadly, he still stands in front of me wearing his annoying goofy grin.

I step aside to evade him, he moves with me. I move back, he does the same. Then it becomes crystal clear that he's actually here to stalk me.

"Come on, Agnes. Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Absolutely not!" I shriek harshly without even realizing. "You are not the last person I want to see this morning, let alone be glad about it!"

"But—"

"Ronald, please stop this," I interrupt. I was not particularly irritated today, but no matter how happy I am, his pesky advances are just always out to get me.

"You look amazing today, but it doesn't suit the mood you are—"

"Can you shut up? I really don't want to be late for class. And if you haven't noticed, you are in my way!" I scold him.

"Agnes, I—"

Alright, that's it. I brush my shoulder against his violently as soon as I sight Tessa and Yvonne up close.

"Girl, what's up with you?" Yvonne asks, seeing how furiously I trudge along the hallway, away from that creepy psychopath.

"God damnit! I just hate the boys in this school! They're all so annoying!"

The way Tessa and Yvonne peep at each other tells me that I'm at it again – my melodramatic subconscious self has awakened.

"Who is it this time?" Tessa asks.

"That psycho guy, Ronald, of course! Seriously, he doesn't quit bothering me, does he?"

From their rolling of eyes, shaking of heads and finally a cynical snort, my friends secretly tease me to have me seem like an obnoxious person. Without saying a word, they already tell me just how pejorative I am.

"He is only another guy on your list of admirers in secret, no big deal," Yvonne says.

"Except it's not a secret. I wonder why that guy won't stop bothering you. You're way out of his league," Tessa adds.

Both of them laugh, seeing the irritant guise on my face. They are having their fun taunting me non-stop. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Can't you take a simple joke? Why so serious? We were just kidding with you."

Yvonne noticeably can't draw the line between a simple joke and an awful one. I don't seem to understand how they can take this so lightly, as if there's nothing to it. It sure begins from little advances like the one Ronald pulled off earlier, then before you know it, they're already asking you out. In their minds, we're dating for real.

"I won't talk about this to you guys ever again." My depleting energy reflects in my voice.

"You'd better," Tessa says and spurts another round of laughter with Yvonne.

I stand silent, watching and waiting for them to get over the thrill. "Are you both done now?" I ask nonchalantly.

They know the next thing I would do is walk out on them. And I almost do so as soon as the idea settles, but shrewd Yvonne puts an arm around my neck. "You know what is more interesting? Our dance rehearsal later today. I hope you did not forget that."

"And what about it?" My appearance becomes more prosaic.

Tessa shrugs flippantly. "Nothing. We just want to know if you remembered. Oh see! You're no longer angry."

"I am!" As hard as I try to be furious, somehow my mood lights up. A minor smile involuntarily spreads across my face. "And I didn't forget."

"It's going to be our first rehearsal, but I'm sure it will be awesome!"

Shortly after, we see the teacher coming down the hallway. We walk into the class to take our seats in front.

*

Classes for the day end with Economics; a class I dread so much but could never be fed up with when we have the best-selling storyteller for a teacher. Habitually, he uses most of his time to tell fascinating stories with little or no relations to the topic – topics that will result in being our take-home assignment.

My friends and I arrive earlier to the music hall, awaiting the dance coach, and while we wait, I notice the scantiness. Not a lot of people fancy the dance club and our dance instructor makes it worse by introducing classicals, like ballroom dancing and ballet. Last year, she tried to teach us ballet, but it turned out a complete disaster. Most of us weren't up for it to be honest.

Miss Francesca Aida, a half-French, half-English willowy lady, walks in majestically as always as the rattling quiets down. Without introduction, she speaks in her French accent. "Today, all the students interested in performing in the school play must register their names first. From next week, we shall begin rehearsals proper, oui."

We start to make small grumbling sounds, like, 'why register before joining in the school play?' It's not like there are many students interested in participating anyway.

I turn towards Yvonne and Tessa, both of them pouting in disappointment. When we believed we'd try some exercises, probably learn a thing or two, our eagerness crumbles right before us and there's nothing we can do about it.

I try to cheer them up. "Well, I guess next week it is then."

Far behind Tessa, I notice Ronald gawping at us – at me precisely. I just want to believe he's not thinking about registering for this year's school play, after everything that happened last year; him following me everywhere I go, even to this club. Because of him, I would have quitted, but thankfully, my friends talked sense into me.

Even if he decides to register this year, I will not let him disturb me again. It was a cruel summer holiday trying to figure out any effective attack mechanism to get him off my back.

The three of us move to the front of the hall to register our names.

"The listing will be out tomorrow or next," Miss Francesca announces before leaving the music hall while we continue to put down our names.

* # * #

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