The Best Revenge

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“Some define literature as a writing characterized by . . .” I quietly jotted the important details in my notebook as the teacher continued her discussion. Taking notes wasn’t really my thing until Freshman year — when Scarlett joined the cheerleading team. She got a little too busy with the practice, so she had problems catching up with the lesson. She almost failed a subject at that time; luckily, the teacher was kind enough to let her submit the requirements. 

And as a good friend, I wanted to do something to help her. So I started writing notes for her, and eventually, I got the hang of it. Plus! It’s like hitting two birds with one stone. I can also use it as a reviewer.

“So, can anyone tell me about the significance of literature?” Miss Elaine, our English teacher, asked the class.

At an instant, the whole class went silent and straightened their sitting posture, afraid that they might be the ones who’d be chosen to recite. 

“Not me, please.” I heard Scarlett whisper from beside me.

I then turn to look at her. She was doing her best, keeping her head down, pretending to be reading something in her notebook. I immediately bit my lower lip to suppress my laughter.

“Anyone?” Miss Elaine spoke again.

“Literature serves as a looking glass that helps us visualize what things were like before.” Henry raised his hand to volunteer himself. “Other than that, literature also allows us, individuals, to express ourselves in different forms — may it be lyrical or a free verse,” he added.

Henry sure is worth the acclaim. He’s smart, wise, mature, and very responsible. Since freshman year, he has been branded as the university’s most outstanding student. Truly,  I won’t be surprised if one day I’ll see him on stage, giving his valedictorian speech. 

-

“You know, I think you and Henry would make a great couple,” I spoke to Scarlett as we waited in line to buy our lunch.

“No, thanks.” Scarlett raised her palm and shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to be the girlfriend of a guy who probably reads the encyclopedia as a bedtime story,” she added.

“Ya!” I elbowed her. “Don’t be such a meanie! Henry’s a great guy, you know,” I defended.

“I don’t mean to say it like that, Anna.” She rolled her eyes. “What I meant is, he and I are just way out of each other’s league. I don’t like studying at all!” she replied.

“And besides, I have already found myself a boyfriend.” She smiled as she playfully curled the tips of her hair with her finger. 

“Oh, I momentarily forgot that I was best friends with a campus sweetheart.” I disinterestedly sighed. 

“Stop that, Anna.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I know you’re not a big fan of JK, but I can assure you that he’s a good man.” She held onto my arm and leaned her head on my shoulder.

“Yeah, sure!” I looked her in the eye and gave her a sarcastic smile. “When pigs fly.” I scoffed.

Scarlett and I are quite the total opposites of each other. I prefer being part of the quiet side of the world, a bookworm who loves camping inside the library, and an aspiring pastry chef who loves trying out new recipes. Scarlett, on the other hand, is the fun one. She lives in the moment; she enjoys indulging herself in the spotlight. She’s beautiful, confident, and outgoing. So there’s no doubt as to why she’s pretty famous, especially around men. In fact, she has a long line of suitors waiting for her to break up with her current boyfriend, JK Ramirez. 

“Why do you hate him that much anyway?” she asked.

“Seriously, Scar?” I looked at her disappointedly. “In case you’ve forgotten, your boyfriend is a notorious playboy who always gets called to the disciplinary office for starting fights.”

She then looked into my eyes with her puppy eyes. “But—”

“No buts, Scar.” I cut her words off. “I will stand firm with my decision until I get enough ‘concrete’ evidence to show that he has changed,” I said, emphasizing the word ‘concrete.’ I am not a fan of their relationship; I don’t think JK is a good match for my best friend. He’s good-looking, but he’s a bit self-centered and a known heartbreaker.

“You’re my best friend, Scar.” I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “I’ll support you in every endeavor that you have, especially when it makes you happy.” I smiled. 

“But just not this one. It’s too risky. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I promise you, Anna.” She looked me in the eye. “I won’t get hurt this time. I won’t allow myself to get hurt,” she added.

I sighed. I love my best friend, but sometimes I just can’t help but disagree with some of the life decisions she makes. She can be pretty spontaneous at times and a little too clumsy.  

“Anyways, didn’t you say JK will be joining us for lunch today?” I asked, changing the topic.

“Right!” She nodded and once again plastered a smile on her face. “I already texted him. He said that we should just buy our food first.”

“Okay then.”

After buying our food, we went to find a table. The cafeteria was packed with students, so finding an empty table was not easy. Luckily, I was able to spot one near the corner. 

“Scar, there.” I pucker my lips to point at the table because my hands were full. I was holding the food tray.

I then looked at Scarlett only to see that she got stuck in a conversation with her team. I sighed. I should probably just wait for her at the table. I then walked my way to the corner, but I stopped mid-way.

“Watch out!” I heard someone shout before I felt the cold orange juice and sticky sauce bathe me. Then I instantly became the center of attraction. It took me a few moments to process everything — my food and tray were on the floor, and my blouse got ruined.

“What the. . .” I clenched my fist into a ball as I looked straight into the eyes of the student who had just run over me. I scanned him head-to-toe, and I felt my blood boil when my eyes caught a view of his skateboard.

“Calm down, Anna. Calm down.” My inner self negotiated as I took a series of deep breathes, trying to suppress my anger and frustration.

“Do you think that the cafeteria is a skate park?!” But I couldn’t stop myself from raising my voice the moment I opened my mouth. I was too pissed by the sight of my now wasted lunch.

“I tried to warn you, though,” he arrogantly reasoned out before he bent down to take his board. “It’s not my fault that you were blocking the pathway,” he added.

“Are you calling me fat?” I asked with a sarcastic and pissed smile plastered on my lips. 

“Should I bring you a mirror than for you to confirm?” he replied, without a hint of remorse. And with that, the last bubble of my patience burst.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting inside the Dean’s Office, sitting across from the man who I had just punched in the face.