2. The Mafia and me (1)

It was then, a cute smallish frame entering the class caught my eye. Tyla.

As if jolting back to life , I took my phone and texted her.

[ N : What up?]

For 10 minutes , there was no response. The boys around me kept blabbering nonsense, I turned to look for my bestie in the crowd. I almost missed her. She was in a black hoody and had buried her face in a book. Typical with girls!- not that I’m not a girl…

. . . .

“ You can tell me anything” I muttered to her after many hours of persuasion and force that day . She was clearly moody and I hated myself for not being able to cheer her up. The passing time made me grow impatient- we had French class in 30 minutes and the washroom… Her devil tears running down freely while she clutched to the sinks trying not to cry out loud … Poor thing

“ I-I..”

“Was raped?…” I gasped impatiently, continuing the statement for her. I foolish could I be?—she managed to glare at me between sobs.

“ I was ..humiliated..” I remained silent for her to proceed and she did

” You see I had this online date …” she paused for some scolding when it did not come she continued

“ Mark Cortex, my date, he suggested a meet up at the La Crème restaurant and…and he didn’t show up!…P-people we’re staring- the girl who probably came early for a date and her date doesn’t … even show up! The waiters were even worrying me for my order- when I had none … people even started giggling and .. and…” She finally broke down in tears.

I had to allow her to pour it out. It must be traumatizing especially when she hasn’t dated before. The d*** ! He ditched her and humiliated her and now she’s suffering it. *sigh* Why would she even date online? As if on impulse, I stepped forward and opened my arms- my highly respected gesture of comfort. She got the message and threw herself in my arms, weeping all she needed to.

I honestly felt good- Good that she was in my arms? Or good that I was there to comfort her? I didn’t under my sudden behavior but I didn’t care all that mattered was that she was in my arms. She lifted her head to me.

“Don’t** do anything to him… okay?” My expression darkened - Of course I would do something to this son of a— **Death was the only clear thought in my head.

Tyla knew I was a hell of a masochist- sometimes I thought that was the reason she befriended me- for protection.

“ Anything you say..” l lied whispering in her ears… Is this how Judas felt when he betrayed Jesus with a kiss?….The feeling is terrible…She nodded, following close behind me like a puppy.

Sometimes she just knew how to get to my heart without the map of my stomach. The girl could act so cute and feeble sometimes… you just couldn’t get over the cringe…you’d wish to cuddle her, tickle her , make her giggle, protect her , kill for her or even die for her— I know..😑I might be over doing it.

But! One thing was for sure… no one dare harm her…

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