Chapter 3 - We were supposed to be

"So... have you found out who it is?"

"Not a clue. The reason why I was at the studio was to know if I could catch him..."

Reign and I chat while filling up each other's mouthes with fries. I dip my finger into ketchup and smeared it on her face.

"...if it weren't for a mischiveous creature!"

I land my finger on her cheek creating a mark like some cult. I burst into laughter and Reign dabs a napkin on her face.

"Hey! I was just concern! And who knows you might end up kidnapped or slain by a psychopath. I wouldn't want my favorite friend to leave me in line."

"You mean you're only friend." Reign gasps comically.

"Yeah like you have a choice."

Reign and I have been bestfriends since I transferred to Damian High. But our story goes way back. Reigns dad and my mom used to be lovers. It's not weird. Infact, we find it quite funny. Reign would tell me how Mr. Gibbs would take my mom to the theatres and would purposely plan with the invited band on a bar. The vocalists would pick a volunteer to do an intermissiom and Mr. Gibbs will act so surprised but will do well with fancy jazzy pants. Mr. Gibbs would probably make a good father figure for me. That completely explains Reign's upbringing. But mom lost interest in him. She once told me he got to a point where all they ever talked about one night was that contract deal he almost got signed up for if it weren't for his smoking habits. Mom liked Mr. Gibbs but the spark never occured. And until this day, I have the audacity to tease mom about Reign's dad. It's hilarious whenever she tells me quit makijg references about Mr. Gibbs. Mr. Gibbs has always been nice to me. Extra nice as a matter of fact. I could tell even for just a single encounter when he and Reign picked me up from the house because mom couldn't make it home in time. Nevertheless, their past relationship definitely has nothing to do with my friendship with Reign.

"Do you have a lead?" Daughter of the performer finally speaks up.

"No. Well he did mention he's from here."

"How does he sound like? Is he hot? Let me hear his voice." Reign pace to grab my tape player from my bag but I cannot let her. Atleast not for now. For some reason I felt a sense of ownership from the tape. It clearly is meant for me to listen and only for me. I do trust Reign but I felt the urge to keep its content a secret. Not until I figure out who else may or may not be mentioned in the recording.

"Not today Reign. If something bad happens to me I don't want you to end up like me."

"Gosh Alia! So possessive. I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend." Reign winks at me with her signature smug face.

"He's not my boyfriend! I just feel oblidged to keep it a secret for now. I'll let you listen to it soon."

I grab my bag and palms search for the player. But I clenched nothing from inside. I look down my bag and took out my books and other stuff. Nothing.

"What's wrong?" Reign asks with concern. I gathered my things once more and stood.

"I left it at the studio. I'll see you later." I step to take a turn to my right without knowing someone was at my way. With force I bumped into him. His tray drops on the floor. Milkshake is everywhere, including my shirt. And vinegar? Who dips fries on a sour condiment?!

"Ow!" We blurt. Students are laughing. And Reign? Well she just whipped her phone out and had almost everything on footage.

"You better watch where you're going." He says as he stands.

"Sorry..." I hurriedly stand to show sincerity but my eyes switch from kitty to a tiger.

"I'm so...not sorry Emil! You were blocking my way!"

Emil let's out a laugh together with his pack behind him.

"I thought you were about to say sorry Alia."

"Nope. You've probably heard wrong. After all..." I grap a napkin from our table. "You have a knack for listening to fake news."

His friends let out a low tune of vowels. It sounds so offensive. And I'm glad they did and not just listen to whatever Emil has to say. He smirks and takes a step closer to me, grabbing my chin. I don't feel panicked for being that close to him. Instead, I feel disgust.

"It's not my fault I had to believe on information that doesn't have an evidence, it's clearly someone else's for not being able to prove their point."

"I don't have anything to prove to you."

"Yet you wanted to. Didn't you?" Everyone is silent. The entire cafeteria, his pack of dumb football players, Reign, including me. I stare into Emil's bright brown pupils. Like it's the first time. This innocent look I once daydreamed about is now a nightmare in disguise. If only Emil wasn't such a jerk.

Emil and I first met at Language 102. We were both competitive in that class but we eventually sparked a friendly battle. We would sometimes hang out together when Reign would have to stay by for rehearsals so we'd go to his place or mine and listen to our favorite radio station. We would mimick every dj's voice and have popcorn all the time. It was our way of getting away from all the school papers and examinations. We had our own world. And somehow, each other's worlds. He took me to the park one time and had me listen to a local radio station and by 2:05 in the afternoon, I hear his voice. He reminisced the first time we had failed an English popquiz and the moments when he'd visit me at home during late night and have us both lying on the ground listening to fm 90s hits. We would fall asleep on the ground and mom would wake me up the next morning and him no longer there. He stated that he loved having caramel popcorn with me and said that he'd only have his favorite snack with his favorite person. It was the sweetest proposal that any broadcaster wanna be could think of. When the radio signed off he landed a peck on my cheek and said that I'll have to refer to him as is and not by any cringe petname like honey, babe or sweetheart. Of course I said yes, who wouldn't. Emil is a sweet boyfriend. Was. The flashback happened so quickly. And then I speak up. I inch more to him and whispered softly into his face.

"Sorry for the milkshake. You can have mine."

I grab my milkshake from the table and splashed it unto his face. I don't skip a beat and grabbed my bag and rushed to the studio thinking about the tape. I hope I could it's still there. I leave the cafeteria roaring with applause. I wish I could see Emil's disappointed face. Just like how disappointed he was when I finally ended things with him. If our start was history, well not our break-up. It was the highlight of fresh year. But it's not him that matters. It's the voice behind the tape. And if I don't hurry and ge there in time, I might not be able to get the tape. And I might lose the chance of listening to his voice more and probably, find out who he is.