"Come on, come on!" Arthur, our head for this year's camp, shouted enthusiastically. "Everybody off the bus, and on for fun!"
Carol stepped into the line that was naturally forming in the aisle of the bus, and I joined her. Behind, a boy my age sneezes onto my back. Oh my gosh, gross!
He sniffles and predictably, not apologize. I shut my eyes for an approximately 3 seconds to remember to breathe, because if I act onto him, I'd be:
a) sued.
b) be called a 'freak' or 'sensitive' because it was petty as heck.
Someday, I'll be listing down all the reasons why I despise boys. The first one, they are super unhygienic. When it was my turn to walk down the stairs off the bus, Carol started talking, "Wow Gwen, look!"
I did, but all I saw was the cobalt road and a few more buses parking beside ours. Great, more people. Carol comes and hugs me tightly, "I have this feeling that camp's going to be great!" She pulls me aside to make way for other people descending from the bus. I smile weakly at her, and said a short prayer that I don't get run down by any bus soon because of my petite frame. Well, I call myself short.
In front stood Arthur, a 19-year-old statuesque boy who's not bad-looking himself. When he smiles, he has a pair of dimples to die for. For one second there, he looked at me, then turned away. "Okay, everybody, I'll be bringing you to the hotel first thing, and then we'll hit the beach for today. It's getting dark anyway. Tomorrow, gear up for some green lessons!"
And with that, he headed up left, where all of us followed.
"Man, I can't wait to hit the beach. Probably I'll get to spot some hot babes and bring em' down!", said some guy who was obviously trying very hard to grow a stubble on his chin. I rolled my eyes.
Why I despise boys, 2. they think they'd get any babe because they're guys and I don't understand their language.
Carol linked her arms through mine, and we started walking faster. And then I remembered, my two hands were very free. Where's my luggage? I turned to Carol and saw she was pulling a trolley luggage behind her, its wheels making a lot of noise as it hit the rocky road.
"Oh gosh, Carol!" I started, whispering so no one could hear me being so stupid. "I forgot my luggage."
Carol stopped humming a Madonna song and stared at me, "What?!"
I released my arm from hers and ran backwards back to the bus, and I could tell Carol was too because her footsteps were audible. The bus wasn't very far, so in a few seconds, I reached. The luggage compartment was closed, and in a second, the engine started roaring. The bus was moving. Nooo!
"Wait! Stop!" I shouted, my arms flailing helplessly above me, "My luggage is in your stupid bus!"
Why I despise boys: 3. they grow up to be bus drivers who does not double check if anyone forgot their luggage to avoid any mishap, like what I'm into now.
I have to give it to Carol, because she used her gift for good. She ran right in front of the bus, and spread her arms, shut her eyes, and waited. I just stood at the side, watching. She was like a heroine!
The bus immediately screeched to a halt in front of Carol, and I saw Carol's eye slowly opening, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Then she flipped her hair like how everyone imagined Megan Fox would do, and sashayed to the bus. I guess this was my cue, so I ran to the luggage compartment as Carol bangs on the bus door and order the driver to open the compartment.
After many failed tries of me opening it myself, the bus driver steps out gruffly. "So you forgot your bag, miss?" he choked.
"Uh, no, that's why I'm here. Because I like running randomly to a bus with my best friend having to sacrifice her life being run down by a bus like yours." I stated. He raised his left eyebrow like I was joking, and I spat, "Of course I forgot my luggage! Now just open it so I can lead a normal life."
He stumbles towards me, and I could tell he needs some exercise. Carol, who was standing behind him, snickers at my rude comment. The driver snaps open the compartment and then brought out the last teal-colored luggage bag out. I tugged at it and started walking away.
"Thanks, driver!" Carol said, and then ran back to me. I looked over my shoulder, and see the driver eying my best friend's butt. Then I raised my fist at him, and he walked up the stairs to the bus, closes the door and drove off. That'll teach him.
*
"UGH." I groaned as I let my luggage drop onto the ground. Carol and I were in a hotel room -- the walls were olive-colored, the window huge and beautiful, overlooking the sea, and the curtains draped across. My eyes turned to the two beds with a small table in between
with a table lamp perched on top.
Carol heads to the bathroom. One of her habit is to check the bathrooms first before she looks at anything else. I followed her as she switches the light on. The bathroom was big enough, thankfully. There was nothing I like seeing there, unless you find pleasure looking at the toilet basin or the toilet bowl, I'd pass.
"So, let's change into sandals and meet some boys!" Carol announces with a smile on her face. She switches off the light, threw her sports shoe to a side, and begin digging for her sandals which she packed. I frowned, and when she realizes the silence, she looks up at me.
"Oh, right, no boys. Sorry."
I felt bad immediately. Sitting down on the rather bouncy bed, I tore off my shoes too and grabbed my neon yellow sandals and put it on my feet. "Care, I've told you. It's not like they're my nemesis. I don't hate the entire male population -- for example, my dad."
She shrugs, "Then why're you always so worked up about it?" Then she walked over to where she left her sports shoe and placed it beneath her bed as I replied her, "You don't need an explanation for everything, Carol. The point is, they hate me. So --"
"They hate you?" Carol cut me off. "How can you tell? You've just stepped into here for the past..." she looks at her watch, "2 minutes."
"You know, in school. Around the neighborhood. None of the boys treat me like how they treat other gals, like you." I explained patiently. I didn't want to discuss about this, because I know eventually I'd have to explain again when Carol talks about boys and remember I don't have a thing for them.
"That's crap. But you won't buy into it. So, I'll just let it be. Let's go, but I just hope you not liking any guy don't automatically mean I have to be the same." She gives me a warning look.
Knowing how much she likes them, I smiled reassuringly. "When have I ever told you to stay away from them?"
"Never. Maybe except the time on my birthday, Easter's, Christmas, school's first day --"
"Okay, I got it. But not this time." I gave her my pinky swear. She grins from ear to ear. "Great, let's go!"
Yeah, let's.
Carol stepped into the line that was naturally forming in the aisle of the bus, and I joined her. Behind, a boy my age sneezes onto my back. Oh my gosh, gross!
He sniffles and predictably, not apologize. I shut my eyes for an approximately 3 seconds to remember to breathe, because if I act onto him, I'd be:
a) sued.
b) be called a 'freak' or 'sensitive' because it was petty as heck.
Someday, I'll be listing down all the reasons why I despise boys. The first one, they are super unhygienic. When it was my turn to walk down the stairs off the bus, Carol started talking, "Wow Gwen, look!"
I did, but all I saw was the cobalt road and a few more buses parking beside ours. Great, more people. Carol comes and hugs me tightly, "I have this feeling that camp's going to be great!" She pulls me aside to make way for other people descending from the bus. I smile weakly at her, and said a short prayer that I don't get run down by any bus soon because of my petite frame. Well, I call myself short.
In front stood Arthur, a 19-year-old statuesque boy who's not bad-looking himself. When he smiles, he has a pair of dimples to die for. For one second there, he looked at me, then turned away. "Okay, everybody, I'll be bringing you to the hotel first thing, and then we'll hit the beach for today. It's getting dark anyway. Tomorrow, gear up for some green lessons!"
And with that, he headed up left, where all of us followed.
"Man, I can't wait to hit the beach. Probably I'll get to spot some hot babes and bring em' down!", said some guy who was obviously trying very hard to grow a stubble on his chin. I rolled my eyes.
Why I despise boys, 2. they think they'd get any babe because they're guys and I don't understand their language.
Carol linked her arms through mine, and we started walking faster. And then I remembered, my two hands were very free. Where's my luggage? I turned to Carol and saw she was pulling a trolley luggage behind her, its wheels making a lot of noise as it hit the rocky road.
"Oh gosh, Carol!" I started, whispering so no one could hear me being so stupid. "I forgot my luggage."
Carol stopped humming a Madonna song and stared at me, "What?!"
I released my arm from hers and ran backwards back to the bus, and I could tell Carol was too because her footsteps were audible. The bus wasn't very far, so in a few seconds, I reached. The luggage compartment was closed, and in a second, the engine started roaring. The bus was moving. Nooo!
"Wait! Stop!" I shouted, my arms flailing helplessly above me, "My luggage is in your stupid bus!"
Why I despise boys: 3. they grow up to be bus drivers who does not double check if anyone forgot their luggage to avoid any mishap, like what I'm into now.
I have to give it to Carol, because she used her gift for good. She ran right in front of the bus, and spread her arms, shut her eyes, and waited. I just stood at the side, watching. She was like a heroine!
The bus immediately screeched to a halt in front of Carol, and I saw Carol's eye slowly opening, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Then she flipped her hair like how everyone imagined Megan Fox would do, and sashayed to the bus. I guess this was my cue, so I ran to the luggage compartment as Carol bangs on the bus door and order the driver to open the compartment.
After many failed tries of me opening it myself, the bus driver steps out gruffly. "So you forgot your bag, miss?" he choked.
"Uh, no, that's why I'm here. Because I like running randomly to a bus with my best friend having to sacrifice her life being run down by a bus like yours." I stated. He raised his left eyebrow like I was joking, and I spat, "Of course I forgot my luggage! Now just open it so I can lead a normal life."
He stumbles towards me, and I could tell he needs some exercise. Carol, who was standing behind him, snickers at my rude comment. The driver snaps open the compartment and then brought out the last teal-colored luggage bag out. I tugged at it and started walking away.
"Thanks, driver!" Carol said, and then ran back to me. I looked over my shoulder, and see the driver eying my best friend's butt. Then I raised my fist at him, and he walked up the stairs to the bus, closes the door and drove off. That'll teach him.
*
"UGH." I groaned as I let my luggage drop onto the ground. Carol and I were in a hotel room -- the walls were olive-colored, the window huge and beautiful, overlooking the sea, and the curtains draped across. My eyes turned to the two beds with a small table in between
with a table lamp perched on top.
Carol heads to the bathroom. One of her habit is to check the bathrooms first before she looks at anything else. I followed her as she switches the light on. The bathroom was big enough, thankfully. There was nothing I like seeing there, unless you find pleasure looking at the toilet basin or the toilet bowl, I'd pass.
"So, let's change into sandals and meet some boys!" Carol announces with a smile on her face. She switches off the light, threw her sports shoe to a side, and begin digging for her sandals which she packed. I frowned, and when she realizes the silence, she looks up at me.
"Oh, right, no boys. Sorry."
I felt bad immediately. Sitting down on the rather bouncy bed, I tore off my shoes too and grabbed my neon yellow sandals and put it on my feet. "Care, I've told you. It's not like they're my nemesis. I don't hate the entire male population -- for example, my dad."
She shrugs, "Then why're you always so worked up about it?" Then she walked over to where she left her sports shoe and placed it beneath her bed as I replied her, "You don't need an explanation for everything, Carol. The point is, they hate me. So --"
"They hate you?" Carol cut me off. "How can you tell? You've just stepped into here for the past..." she looks at her watch, "2 minutes."
"You know, in school. Around the neighborhood. None of the boys treat me like how they treat other gals, like you." I explained patiently. I didn't want to discuss about this, because I know eventually I'd have to explain again when Carol talks about boys and remember I don't have a thing for them.
"That's crap. But you won't buy into it. So, I'll just let it be. Let's go, but I just hope you not liking any guy don't automatically mean I have to be the same." She gives me a warning look.
Knowing how much she likes them, I smiled reassuringly. "When have I ever told you to stay away from them?"
"Never. Maybe except the time on my birthday, Easter's, Christmas, school's first day --"
"Okay, I got it. But not this time." I gave her my pinky swear. She grins from ear to ear. "Great, let's go!"
Yeah, let's.
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