A Writer and His Subject

The continuous tapping of a laptop’s keyboard, the knocking of the raindrops on the roof, the plopping of the puddles as passers-by walk on through, and the constant sound of a rubber ball as it ricochets off a wooden wall formed the ambiance of a genius writer’s room.

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” The irritated owner asked.

“Nope,” I, the unruly guest, quickly replied.

Our presentation was delivered stunningly. The graphics used were perfect, the explanations were coherent and concise, and the people who presented it were heavily carried. To express my gratitude to Marcus as his best friend (self-proclaimed) for doing half the work, I decided to give him a gift.

“What did you say were you doing here again?”

“I told you! I’m here to spend quality time with you!”

Yes, the wonderful present which I gave to my great classmate that is Marcus De Vera, is the gift of my breathtaking presence! As he scowled at me, infuriated with my entire existence, his mother came into the room with snacks.

“Thank you, auntie!” I said as I happily took the food off her hands. “I must be bothering you this early.”

“No, no.” she waved her hand. “I should be the one thanking you. Marcus doesn’t have any siblings, and all he does is shout at Letty whenever she comes to visit so I’ve been worried whether or not he’s been lonely. I’m happy to know that he has such a great friend, visiting him this early in the morning, even when it’s raining so hard.”

I laughed as I noticed the ears of the main topic himself reddening.

“The pleasure is all mine. Marcus is the great friend over here! I can always count on him for help when I’m having trouble with my studies.” I grinned deviously, a brilliant idea coming to mind. “Does Letty come here often?”

“Not anymore. She used to come here every single day when they were kids. I still remember how they’d run around the house laughing––”

“Mom, don’t you have other things to do?” Marcus said, staring daggers at auntie.

She chuckled. “I guess I’ll leave you boys to your own thing. Marcus, you should try and be nice like your friend Wren here.”

You could almost see the veins popping out of his forehead as I smiled smugly at him. This is fun stuff. Next time I should go to Paulette’s or Amethyst’s house and pretend to be their boyfriends. Ah, the latter wouldn’t work, Paz would kill me.

I wonder if they’ve started dating yet. They were inseparable when we were classmates last year. I don’t think I’ll be seeing that happening anytime soon given the hardness of Paz’s head being greater than a diamond.

Speaking of dates…

“Marcus, what’re the characteristics of your ideal girl?”

There was silence and then there was the tapping of a keyboard. What followed shortly after the sound of chaos as I threw the rubber ball at Marcus for ignoring me.

“I haven’t given it much thought.” Disinterestedly, he answered.

“Give it a try!”

There were a few seconds where he stopped typing and caressed the back of his chin with his thumb.

“Probably someone ambitious. A girl who’s hardworking and humble. The kind who’s blessed with talent and yet modest with her abilities, never taking them for granted.”

“Ah, so someone who is aspiring enough to have a vision yet gifted enough that she’s capable of turning that vision into reality?”

“I guess so.”

“Like a painter?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“So, Paulette?”

A rubber ball can prove to be painful if thrown hard enough. I regretted throwing it at Marcus.

“Why haven’t you dated Paulette, yet?”

“I am not the slightest bit interested in her. She is not the slightest bit attractive. In fact, I do not like her.”

I faked a sneeze and rubbed my nose.

“Sorry, I’m allergic to nonsense. Could you repeat what you were saying?”

I started walking around the room. It was quite spacious despite being only for one person. Must have been one of the perks of being both a prodigy and an only child. I continued bugging him. He was playing a typing game so there’d be no consequence from distracting him.

He roughly scratched the back of his head and proceeded to intensely massage the bridge of his nose.

“Please stop moving around!” He snapped as I fiddled with the contents of his drawer.

I ignored him and continued with what I was doing. “Marky likes Polly!”

“How long are you planning on staying here?”

“How long until you admit your feelings for your childhood friend?”

“I’ve told you. I don’t see her that way,” he explained. “She’s an annoying little sister at best.”

“Isn’t she older than you?”

I saw my life flash before my eyes as Marcus attacked me with a pillow that day.