Breaking the Ghoster's Heart

Episode 7

My hands shake as I pull out the pen and paper from my bag. I saw Jennie smirking while looking at me, more particularly, at my shaking hands. I smiled at her and covered my hands and heaved a deep sigh when I finally prepared the things I needed. "Ready?" she asked me. She lifted an eyebrow. I hate her already! It’s like she’s telling me that she will win whatever I do. very competent and confident. I hate that part too.

"Hey, Heather. You still there? " a voice whispered to my ears. It was Blake on the phone. Mentally, I prayed that his idea would be successful. I'm having a lot of doubts and what ifs in my head right now.

What if someone caught us cheating? I mean, I know this is already considered cheating. That would be embarrassing, right? At the back of my mind, I thought. You dumb girl, you should cheat because you’re born to be dumb in this universe, so, of course, you need someone’s brain in order to survive on this planet, you dummy. Quick! Just follow Blake’s command!

I c****d my head to shake off the thought. So, I believe everyone has a devil angel beside them.I should not be bothered by it. All you need to do right now, Heather, is to focus. Chillax and get a good grip on your dumb brain! "Yeah, I’m still here," I whispered back to Blake. The funny thing is, nobody in the room finds me suspicious. Yeah sure, no one notices me whispering to myself like a crazy kid because I’m sure they are used to the picture of me murmuring like a psychopathic lad. Damn it.

"Chill. You got me with this match. I don’t like that girl who’s very confident in herself. We need to defeat her pride. Got it? "

"Yeah sure," I said calmly, but God knows how much I shiver by the thought that we would defeat Jennie. If, by any chance, by the tiniest chance we had, we win this match, how long am I going to pretend like I’m a professional journalist and I so so love writing even though, in reality, I suck at it, huh?! Just by imagining, it makes me sick already.

I closed my eyes and sighed again. How many times have I had a deep sigh today? I lost count of my fingers. Anyway, when I opened my eyes, Levi Masselin was staring at me straight. He looks like he’s dugging my soul. He was sitting on the table in front of where we were seated. The way he sits looks cool, like a typical guy whom you wouldn’t want to mess up with. I've never wanted to meet or bump into guys like David Pluck in my life.

"Are you ready to lose to my girlfriend, Heather?" he asked playfully with a grinning face. Inside of me, I want to punch and wipe off that smirk. Why are they so confident with Jennie? Why do they have so many expectations of this girl? It makes me want to win over her.

"Stop it, Masselin. Let’s finish off this match early. " His girlfriend said and he smiled at her like a maniac who was head over heels for her. Ugh! Disgusting! Don’t make a love-dovey scene here, oh please!

"Oh sure, baby," said Levi and winked at his girlfriend, who just rolled her eyes at him. Levi cleared his throat and gathered up everyone inside the room. "So what do you think about politics? I would recommend that topic for them to write an essay. Any ideas? " Everyone agreed immediately with him. Someone raised a hand and asked, "Politics is a broad topic. How about we pick a specific issue? "

"Nice. How about the U.S. election presidency? " Levi asked everyone. They all agreed. This guy is really influential in the school. No wonder he is the Supreme Student Government president. "Cool. Okay, writers, for today’s topic. Make an editorial write-up about who you think deserves to be the next president of America. Just. In 30 minutes. Any questions? " Levi declared and clasped his hands. He is looking at Jennie intently. I even heard him murmur at her. "Choose Joe Biden, babe. He’s my uncle. "

"Stop coaching me. I know what I’m doing. " Jennie said aggressively and started to write on her paper. Oh no, already? She already had an idea about what to write in a matter of seconds! While I was writing something, I was daydreaming and organizing what I was writing for an hour.Goddamn this brain. It needs help. "Joe Biden, huh." A voice whispered to me. It was Blake’s voice, which, I conclude, was still listening to our conversation.

"Let's go with Donald Trump, babe – I mean...Heather," he continued, dropping a bomb on my heart.Did he just call me babe? Oh my God! Tell me I’m not dreaming! I felt like there was a flow of electricity inside of my veins. And I’m ready to fight this battle. I’ve never signed up in the first place. Grinning, I whispered back in a casual tone. "I had that name at the back of my mind. Let’s choose him. "

"Pretty good. We’re in the same boat. " He said and that’s the cue to get my pen and paper. Who knew I had some talent for writing after that? Or so I thought…

I remember having nothing to do in my room during my boring summer vacation because I am an introvert, so I hadn't gone on a vacation trip, which is how most teenagers spend their adolescent lives, well, not me.Staring straight at the screen of my laptop, I decided to write a poetry about life, but it turned out to be a sad poem. Perhaps because my life is depressing, it reflects on the message conveyed in my poem.Anyway, I recall it being posted to an amazing writing platform that allows writers to interact with their readers in a convenient manner.Just a couple of seconds, my notification bell bombs with votes and comments about that depression poem.

From that moment, I realized that I wasn’t the one who felt that kind of feeling. The feeling of being alone…left out in the world. Something like that. Others branded me as a sad girl on the internet, but the hell with that. On social media, you can't get rid of toxicity because it exists on every site you visit... even pornhub.

Someone commented on that poem. One of them is Blake. So that’s how our friendship started up until now. That’s pretty long, which saddens me because we never level up our relationship status. We’re like platonics. No feelings attached. There are no strings attached to our privatea lives.We have privacy in the real world. We just talk all day and night without mentioning our real names, place we are living, ethnicity, age, relationship status, whether he’s married or I’m single. Something like that. We created that stupid rule all by ourselves. I agreed to it because it’s safe and, at the same time, it’s fun. But I know…I know there will be time – okay – my gut is telling me that I will fall head over heels with this guy. And I know…it’s starting already. It’s f*****g starting! Who wouldn’t fall? What is he doing right now? Who’s dumb not to fall in love with this type of guy? He’s always there with me whenever I badly want help from someone. But here’s the thing: I don’t have that

someone in reality who could lend me a hand as soon as possible! Blame my shyness and crazy personality! Everyone in school thought of me as a freak who always talks to herself in the hallway or wherever the hell it is in school. They didn’t know I was talking to someone on the phone. Well, I don’t need to explain myself because I couldn’t care less about those judgments though.

Blake keeps on dictating the words and I wrote them down on the paper. Thanks to the help of my airpods, we made it smoothly. My fingers ache but I keep on writing because, somehow, I am enjoying the process. I didn’t totally write down all of Blake’s words. Surprisingly, I revised some phrases to make them better and more appropriate in the essay, which I didn’t know I could do. I was smiling all the way when we were now in the conclusion part of the essay. It satisfies myself because the idea connects the first paragraph and I am now writing my final sentence. It needs to be impactful, my gut is telling me to do it so. And I think I successfully did.

Just when I heaved a deep sigh and put down my pen, I saw Jennie, who was still writing her piece, glancing at my side. "Woah! That’s 20 minutes, Heather. You sure you’re really done writing? " Levi asked me. His eyelids drooped as he looked at my paper and at his stopwatch."Yeah. Whatever. Give me your paper. " He was about to get my paper but I shot him a glare. "Hands off. It’s not yet the time to submit the papers. Also, Jennie wasn’t done – "

"Not done, who?" I heard her sneer at me. She put down her pen and gave her paper to her boyfriend. "Make sure the votation is fair and just." I think she was gritting the words fair and just to mock me. Looking at her back, I couldn’t help but to clench my fist. She’s so confident of winning this match. She grabbed her bag and went out of the room elegantly. I saw her boyfriend smirking at me when he saw my reaction. "Nice try, Heather. You actually beat her in terms of punctuality. Hmmm, you beat her for about 45 seconds, "Levi said and looked at his stopwatch. "Anyway," he continued, "let’s finish off this match so you can rest."

I stood up in my seat. "Heather?" Blake asked me on the phone. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, kinda doubtful with that jerk." I answered and looked at Levi seriously, who was now doing his job. He made sure everyone reads our write-ups fairly. Only the numbers on each piece of paper indicate that one was mine and one came from Jennie.After reading the two papers, they will put a check mark on the whiteboard between numbers 78 and 13.

I couldn’t stand checking the votes on the board. It causes my heart to beat erratically.That’s when realization hits me. I ask myself a question: Why do I care so much about winning in this writing competition?