Enjoy the new story I wrote, by either reading it or ravish it with your criticisms.
--------
Let’s say, you are a guy. And, let’s say, in front of you is a girl. Also, let’s say, that girl is your girlfriend, with her face red up to the ears. Let’s say...forget it. No matter how much “Let’s say” I am going to tell you, you won’t understand the situation I was in: One day, I was suddenly being called out by my girlfriend, Kim, to our usual café for unknown reasons. Her usual voice on the phone did not give me any hint of the whole ordeal I will have to face: as soon as she saw me entering through the doors of the café, she suddenly blushed red, and she did not say a word as I sat down before her.
What do you think she was thinking? As a normal male variation of the human beings, I am not capable of telepathy, nor am I any good with mind reading, especially on girls; therefore, I was as clueless as you are now. Yet, there I was with my girlfriend, and a very confusing, quizzical expression of redness was on her face. Confusing and quizzical for me, the pitiful, miserable guy who was trying his best to figure out what his girlfriend is thinking under her redden cheeks, that is.
Was she angry? I was not late. Early, even. Embarrassed? There was no reason for her to be so. Shy? I don’t think it was the case...Do you think she got a cold and she wanted me to take care of her? She could have just call me to her house ... As you can see, I was utterly confused ... “FOR GOODNESS’S SAKE! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” I screamed at her...in my mind. I would never be able to do that without either feeling like a jerk for making her cry, or get knocked down with a burning handprint on my face. Or both.
What other options do you think I had? None, apparently. Without any other choice, I quietly ordered cappuccino for me, and strawberry tea for her, then watched her reactions carefully. She still remained silent, but her red cheeks then seemed to turn into a pink flush of happiness as she smiled to me. It seemed like I did the right thing. I knew that she loves strawberry tea, and that is a sure-fire way to make she smile. It was the time for the next move. Casually, I asked her one simple question: “So...Kim, why did you call me here today?”
That was the worst thing I could have done at that moment. Much to my dismay, her previously happy mood did a 360-degree-flip right at the instant I asked that one simple question. Her smile swiftly switched place with a frown, her arm crossed before her chest, and her face was as red as molten lava from an exploding volcano, which is to say, not quite far from the truth, as she seemed just about to explode from anger right then and there. Like a volcano, that is. My panic mode kicked in right after. I frantically searched for the reason of her anger - my impending danger, with my palm sweated, and my heart raced at 100 miles an hour. My mind was unable to find anything, obviously; except for a thought about how ridiculous it is for women to assume that men should be able to read their minds when they become lovers.
After an eternity...of two minutes in silence, Kim, drumming on the table with her fingers, kindly saved me with a hint: “You of all people should know what day today is, Kevin”. I guess I was so helpless that my helplessness shown on my face then, for her to give me that hint. “I was just kidding,” I gave her a safe reply with a sheepish smile in hope that she will spare my life, “how could I forget this important day?” Now, I will admit to you, I did forget, as millions of other guys in the world did, when it comes to important days for their girlfriends. It is not because that I do not love her; I am just forgetful. But how can I tell her the truth and let her down? That is why, as I spoke to her then, I pretended to stir my cup of cappuccino with my right hand, while my left hand secretly took out my cell phone under the table and, with my superb texting skill, deftly sent an SOS message to one of our friends without even need to look. In less than ten seconds, I got a reply. I took a stealthy glance at the message, just enough to see a tiny part of the cell phone’s screen, and found out the source of her wrath: It was her birthday. So simple.
With acting skills that would have won me an Academy Award, I held her hand on the table, then I gently told her as I looked into her eyes, “Happy birthday, Kim, and thank you.” Being a curious girl as she always is, my girlfriend asked: “Why did you thank me for?” I did not answer her right away, however. Instead, I simply took a sip from my cup, intentionally creating a dramatic pause. She put me through all that agony, after all; it is only fair for me to tease her curiosity a little bit, don’t you think? I am just that kind of a jerk. At the moment I put the cup down, she complained: “Come on Kev, tell me please? Pretty please?” I could not help it but chuckled at her pouting face then, because, as I expected, she could not stand having a secret being kept from her for long. Of course, my girlfriend did not like it. She pinched me on my cheek with such force that it is hard to imagine that those soft hands were capable to deliver such pain. In face with such torture, the most sensible solution for me was to give in to her demands. Shameful, yes, but is pride ever needed in love? Or more specifically, when your face are being clasped with your girlfriend's iron grip? “Alright!” I pleaded, “I will tell you! Let me go!”
A triumphant gleam was in her eyes and a satisfy grin on her face as she released me. Who says female is the subdominant gender? I highly doubted it when I held my abused cheek. “So, are you going to tell me or what?”She playfully poked my face. “You ruined the mood.” I sulked. But in response, she just giggled and stuck her tongue out at me, implying that it’s my fault. After a shook of the head and a sigh of defeat, I smiled. It is worth it, being pinched a little and having Kim stuck her tongue at me, if she is happy.
“Fine,” I faked a groan “all I need to do is just to tell you, and you will be happy, right?” Kim chuckled and nodded, waiting for me to continue, her eyes shone with expectation... As if I would tell her that easy. Call me what you like, I know that I was a sore loser in this game call love. And as a sore loser, I slyly gestured to call her closer. Innocently, Kim leaned forward and turned her head aside, thinking that I would whisper into her ear. And I gave her, instead of the secret she wanted, a kiss to her cheek.
She was surprised, of course, so surprised that she was taken aback, her face flustered red and her arms flailing wildly at me. “Why did you kiss me?” she squealed, raining blows to my defending arms while other customers in the cafe stared and snickered at us, “Tell me the secret already!” After suffered a few hits, I managed to get hold of her hands and calmed her down by starting to recite what I told her earlier: “Kim, happy birthday, and thank you.” She looked at me, clearly still agitated by my kiss, but she closely watched my lips as I continued, “Thank you for being with me and make my life so beautiful. I love you.”
My words seemed to embarrass her even more than my kiss, because right after that, she sat down and drank her tea, looking away from me. Her reaction was so cute that I almost want to nibble her cheeks, blushing red like a strawberry, and tell her how cute she was then. Before I could actually do that, however, she said to me: “You had some nice things to say.” and I tiled my head in acknowledgment. Then she said, “Even though you forgot my birthday.” and I almost fell off my seat. “How did you know?” I questioned her non-verbally with my dumbfounded face. To answer, she took out her cell phone and showed me the message on it. A single word, “Crap”, dropped heavily into my mind as I stared at my SOS message on her cell phone’s screen. My “superb texting skill” must have failed me and I accidentally sent it to her instead of sending it to our friend. She was the one who replied to my call for help!
Kim stood up and went to my side of the table, then gently nudged me as she sat down beside me. She said calmly, but for me, each of her word felt like dagger piercing my heart: “When I saw you came through the door, I was so happy. I thought that you came here because you remembered my birthday. But I was disappointed when you asked me, and even more upset when you messaged for help and lied to me.” I pathetically dropped my head in shame.
“Still,” Kim continued, pacing her words with sips of strawberry tea, “I replied back, and waited to see what you would do. And Kevin, as always, you somehow manage to make me smile again. You and your lame sense of humour never stop amusing me. You even dare to trick me with that kiss!” She giggled, and rested her head on my shoulder, “So, did you really mean it when you said you loved me? Or was it another lie?” “O-Of course not! No! I-I mean, yes!” I jumbled with my words, trying to find a way to apologise to her “I do love you, Kim, and I am not lying. I didn’t want to make you sad. I am sor–” A sweet taste of strawberry stopped the words in my mouth as her soft lips touched mine. “Apology accepted.” She said, flushed with delicious happiness. And at that moment, I, too, had my cheek redden just like her.
Suddenly, Kim grinned mischievously, “Now, what should I ask you to buy for me as the birthday gift?”
Instantly, my face was drained of blood.
------------
I haven't find a satisfying title for this short story, so any idea or suggestion would help. Thank in advance.
