The Formation of a Coalition

I knew that I already made up my mind to make him my accomplice, but it still scared the hell out of me. In every partnership, there must be trust. And to establish that trust, I had to bare myself and be honest.

'Telling him the whole truth was one thing.

But the consequences that could possibly follow is what terrifies me.'

I looked him straight in the eyes and stretched out my right pinkie. "From here on out, you're an accomplice."

"What?!" He chuckled and doubtfully looked at my outstretched hand.

"Just give me your damn finger and let me explain." I urged him.

He shook his head but still wrapped his pinkie around mine and with his other hand, he covered his mouth as if trying to conceal his smile.

"I can't believe you're seriously making me do a pinkie promise. Are you a kid?" He snorted as he held back his laughter.

"You will soon find out that I'm a lot worse." I smirked and tightened my grip around his finger. "This finger is mine now. If you betray me, lie to me or break any of the promises that you make from now on, I have the full rights to cut this little baby off."

Obviously thinking that I was either fooling around or simply out of my mind, he burst out laughing. "What?!"

But I raised an eyebrow at him and said with all seriousness. "This or that little guy down there. Your choice."

His pupils grew larger as he followed the direction of my gaze. Then his head heavily lifted back up with his expression slowly turning grave; probably imagining the worst case scenario. He took a gulp and cleared his throat. "Take my hand. My hand is all yours."

"Wise choice." I smiled triumphantly. "So--"

"On one condition!" He eyed me carefully. "This is a partnership, right? Not a slave contract. So you have to be equally liable and responsible as well."

I scoffed. "Did I say otherwise? The terms and conditions apply to me as well. Deal?"

"D-deal."

We closed the deal by stamping our thumbs against each other with a firm shake.

He ran his fingers through his hair, still looking fazed. "So what is it?"

"Now, this is the first promise: Whatever I'm about to tell you must stay between us. Even Teacher Kimmy must never know that I told you. If she finds out, I'll probably get killed before I die a natural death." My eyes shook and the hair on my nape stood up with a shiver then I glared at him. "And I'll make sure to take you with me. You understand?"

He nodded. "Let's not get killed. No one's going to get killed. "

"But if..." I paused. This was the scariest part for me: The 'if'. Nevertheless, there's no longer going back now. "... IF I start acting strange during this conversation and IF... this is a purely hypothetical if..."

This 'if' was the very reason why I couldn't bring myself to tell Katherine about the truth behind my sudden 'trip to Canada' last winter. And the only reason that I could even consider telling Craige now, was because I knew that Teacher Kimmy was just a door away.

"If?" He motioned me to go on.

'Impatient, aren't we?'

"IF I collapse or lose consciousness, you immediately go ram your aunt's door and wake her up at all cost, irregardless of the promise we made. My life will be completely in your hands IF that moment comes. You understand?" I searched his eyes and hoped that he was taking me seriously.

"Why is it always life and death for you?" He looked puzzled but when I didn't answer, he just sighed and nodded. "I understand."

'Here goes nothing!'

I took a deep breath and placed my trust in him.

"Teacher Kimmy is not my acting coach." I started.

And he nodded in agreement. "I figured that much over dinner. She's just not the type to work after office hours."

I laughed at that then bravely continued. "The truth is... she's helping me overcome something that I'm struggling with, both physically and mentally. Like a therapist."

"Is she licensed to do that?" was his first question.

"I'm surprised that you didn't know she is. She's known to be an expert in that field. Coaching was just a part time job that she took up for fun." I smiled at him then guiltily added. "But I've been skipping on my scheduled sessions since classes started which made her furious with worry. So if she finds out that we know each other, she'll always ask you about me, my friends and what I'm like in school. And I hate that. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to be bothered too."

He just nodded. "Okay, I'll go along with this setup and keep it from her. But I'm guessing that, whatever the reason is, it's important that you do this therapy, right?"

I nodded reluctantly.

"Then that means you shouldn't be skipping any of it, right?"

I nodded again, not liking where this was heading.

"Then why are you avoiding it? Won't it be better for you to just do it and get it over with? You're practically just delaying the process."

I eyed him suspiciously. "Could it be that she already told you the story and she put you up to convince me to attend my sessions?"

He massaged the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows. "You're being paranoid. As far as Auntie knows, we just met today. Besides, I wouldn't have let my precious right hand become a collateral, if that was the case... I just don't understand why you're trying to avoid the inevitable."

"Inevitable?"

He smiled softly. "I mean, you have to do that therapy anyway, so why prolong your agony?"

.

.

.

"... You have a point." And I hated that.

"Are you scared? Does this therapy hurt?" His voice was suddenly laced with concern.

'It's deadly. Or at least, our last session was.'

I sighed. "How do I put this... I guess, I just chickened out after the last session. I know she wouldn't do anything to hurt me intentionally. I trust her. What I didn't trust was myself."

I recalled my last session with Teacher Kimmy and just thinking about it made my body feel really cold. I wrapped my arm around myself and squeezed hard while avoiding his gaze. "You see, something's seriously wrong with me. And I don't even know if I should be telling you this."

"It's okay. You've got this." He raised his hand with a chuckle which made me smile despite feeling jittery. Then he went back to being serious. "But if you don't want to say it, I'll respect that."

Strangely though, I had a feeling that I could trust him with my secret.

"Since I was little, every summer break, Dad brings me with him to his company which became my personal playground. He's running a talent agency and he lets me join all kinds of workshops. And from there, I eventually discovered something that really piqued my interest: Acting." I smiled as I recalled how excited I was back then every time my dad comes over to pick me up.

My parents divorced when I was three, for reasons that are still unknown to me. And I ended up staying with my mom. Summer was the only time that I could stay with my dad. So whenever Summer comes, I was like a puppy wagging its tail, waiting for its owner.

"But you see, since I started doing it from a very young age, I became... conceited about my ability." I scoffed and grinned at Craige who was just listening intently. "Told you I'm mean."

"You were young. That's okay." Craige bumped a fist on my shoulder as if trying to comfort me.

"Not that young." I snorted and raised my head with a faint smile. "Just two summers ago, there's this new set of talents who recently got street-casted by the company. I got excited because they were about my age too. It was the first time that I'll be training with kids my age. I quickly became close with them in just a matter of days, not knowing that they just befriended me because they knew who my father was. So when I kept nitpicking at the way they act and straightforwardly called out their mistakes like I usually do with my friends, they eventually decided to... put me in my place."

The memory of that night briefly flashed in my head and as if on queue, my breaths turned heavy and a familiar constricting sensation on my chest made my chin tremble and caused my body to feel chills all over. He must have noticed me shivering, because he handed me the blanket that was lying on the cocoon-shaped rattan swing beside the couch. I took it from him and wrapped it around myself.

'This adverse reaction to a mere memory is exactly what I was afraid of happening.'

But I didn't stop. I couldn't. And with quivering lips and ragged breathing, I went on. "It was new year's eve and I attended the company's year end party like any other year. But towards the end of the party, someone spiked my drink that made me blackout."

I saw him flinch in disbelief. "You were fourteen then?"

"Fifteen. Just last winter. And when I woke up, I'm already lying on my back in a very confined space. Turns out, those bit---kids put me inside the coffin in the company's storage room."

My chest was tight, my breathing labored and my head was feeling light. Even my fingers started tingling and they felt numb on the tips that were as cold as ice. It wasn't until he touched my face that I realized with a gasp; I was crying.

'Like, what the f–?!'

That got me so nonplussed that I started laughing while trying to sniff back my tears. A familiar set of emotions continued to rumble in my chest uncontrollably as I carried on with my story; unable to stop. "I thrashed around angrily, told them that they'll seriously regret messing with me. That didn't work, so I threatened them and said anything that I could think of that would make me seem tough. It was probably fear that made me start reflecting on myself and ask for their forgiveness. That was when I tried to reason with them and sincerely said sorry many times. But it was only when I started running out of breath that I really started begging desperately for them to let me out. My head was all fuzzy so I couldn't really make out what they were saying but it seemed like there was an argument going on. Then one of the girls knocked on the coffin and there are still times that I would hear her voice in my sleep."

He held his breath in silence for long time. "What did she say?"

I heard ringing in my ears.

And as if in a trance, I imitated the menacing voice that haunted my dreams.

"You think you're that great? Why don't you play dead and just die already?"

"What the--?!" He started angrily and fell silent.

And so did I.

We both stared into space in stillness.

He felt disturbed.

I felt empty.

Then my hands started shaking...

My entire body was trembling.

No. It was more like shuddering.

Panic and fear once again engulfed me like it did back then and I began hyperventilating. My head became fuzzy as I slowly started losing grip of my consciousness.

'I... can't... breathe!'

The room tilted around me and I felt myself falling to one side.

I couldn't even tell which side.

And as I waited for my head to touch the ground, the scenes from that night flashed before my eyes like an old movie clip.

It was the same old story.

Me inside a dark and suffocating coffin.

Dying.

But just before I took my last breath, I felt warm hands firmly fastened on my shoulders.

The movie scene instantly shattered into shards of glass.

I gasped for air and breathed heavily.

My eyes wandered at first, before it finally focused on a pretty face that looked really familiar.

I tried so hard to rack my brain for a name.

Any name.

Then a name popped in my head which grounded me, "Clinton."

He was frowning at me but his voice was tender when he spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Clinton." I repeated absent-mindedly.

"What?" This time there was a tinge of irritation on his worried face. And yet that made me feel relieved.

"I can't believe I got it right the first time. Good job." I felt like a weight has been lifted off my chest and I started laughing again while tears overflowed like a waterfall.

I was crying and laughing at the same time.

Crazy, I know.

I was laughing because I felt relieved that I was able to snap out of it before the dangerous part.

Crying because the emotions from that night were still wrecking a havoc in my chest.

I was a complete mess.

With a thud, I slammed against his chest as he tugged the blanket and encircled his arms around me. And I found myself desperately clinging on to his shirt despite myself, still trying to catch my breath after that hysteria. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you remember something terrible. It's okay now. It's okay."

I smiled bitterly at his words. And with still trembling lips, I snickered.

"That's what I thought too. I thought I was okay. But I guess that's not the case."