Under The Cherry Tree (How they've met part 2) | Teen Ink

Under The Cherry Tree (How they've met part 2)

October 26, 2009
By `snickers SILVER, Tarlac, Other
`snickers SILVER, Tarlac, Other
8 articles 0 photos 12 comments

“Are you ok?”

I snapped out of my thoughts. I realized that we’re still in the same position. It’s like we’ve been dancing Tango or something, and at the end of the dance, the girl would bent down a bit while the guy supports her at her back. This would be perfect if he were biting a rose by his teeth. Heck, what am I thinking?

“Uhm, yea.” I pulled myself together, using his shoulders as support, though it didn’t feel right. I stood straight looking away, avoiding his eyes. But I want to see the face of my redeemer.

Still, I feel like something isn’t right.

His hand, still attached on my back. And the other, I’m still holding it.

It felt,


“Uhm…” I tried to think of proper words to use. “You can let go now.” I said, pointing at my back using my eyes. I hope he gets it.

“Oh,” he lets go. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Thanks.” I said, giving him a weak smile. I’m still trying to avoid his scrutiny. Though I’m pretty sure I saw a grin carved on his smooth face. It’s the first time I got close to a guy, physically. I’m not used to hanging out with boys on our school, not even strangers, like him. It’s not that I don’t like boys. I just feel safer on an environment full of girls. I can communicate with them better. With boys, I don’t know how to put up the words I should say to them. Not that I’m suppose to say something. It’s just that… that guys are diverse from girls. I think.

One thing I’m positive about him is that he has good reflexes, if that’s what you call it, for a virtually skinny guy.

“Is that the-” I pointed to his left hand. I’m sure I saw him holding my favourite book that I’ve been craving to have.

“Oh this?” He knew what I’m talking about. “I like this book, it’s the last one actually.”

“I thought I had it?”

“Uhm. I don’t think so. I actually had it first. Then someone pulled me. Apparently, that’s you.”

“Er…” I don’t know what to say. I’m totally speechless. But I want to ask him if he could give it to me. If gentlemen still exist then that won’t be a problem.

“But thanks anyway,” I looked up as I hear those words. He looks… stunning. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve still been finding my way out the crowd right now.”

“Oh. But I…” How do I say this? I can’t just ask him to give me the book back; he said he came in first. I arched my head down while I play with my fingers.

“Hmm?” He leaned his ears close, he seemed eager to know what it was that I’m going to say.

“Can I… Er, Uhm. Do you really want the book?”

“Yes.” He answered right away. So much for being a gentleman. Pfft.

“Do you want it?” Again, my face lit up assuming that maybe he would allow me to have it. “Yes.” I answered.

“Hmm… I don’t think so,” he said playing with the book, scanning each page, his face curious. “I had it first, didn’t I?” The tone of his voice is different; he said it like he wants me to agree.

“I don’t know?” That irritates me a bit. “You said you first have it. Why ask me?”

“That’s clear then.” He smirked. He started walking towards the cashier. Ugh. I should’ve debated about whom most deserves it. I followed him quickly. I DO NOT want to loose that exquisite book.

“A-Are you going to buy that? Can I just have it? PLEASE?” I bent my head down and closed my eyes, hoping that he would be nice this time.

“Too late.” He said. I opened my eyes with a paper revealed in front of me. I read it:


Ugh. I now officially declare that I hate this guy whoever his name is.

I shift around, making him face my back. I crossed my arms making sure that he’s seen it. I hope this body language I’m doing made him realize that I’m infuriated by his juvenile, intolerant actions!


He tapped my shoulder. I forced myself not to move, I’ll wait till his conscience come.

“Hi.” He appeared to my front. But I turned around again, still furious.

As expected, he appeared to my front the second time. I tried to turn around again, but his hand held my shoulder making me face him.


He handed me the book. My jaw dropped.


“I don’t understand…” Yes, indeed. Who would?

“Merry Christmas.” He smiled as he walked off quickly out the bookstore.

I stood still, taken aback of his mysterious actions. Is this supposed to be a gift? I mean, he did say ‘Merry Christmas.’ I can’t believe it. I’m so astonished; no one ever willingly gave me a present, not in the form of cash. I don’t attend Christmas parties at school so I never get to see my gift, then my classmates get used to it that they don’t enlist me during exchange gifts.

He said he liked the book. He owns this. He had spent his money on this.

After being able to absorb this appalling situation, I run off, hoping that I can still see him. I want to talk to him, to pay for the book. Or, if this is really for me, I want to at least say thank you despite my unfriendly actions. But when I got out the store,

I looked left.

I looked right.

He was nowhere in sight.

The author's comments:
i actually don`t know how to end my stories. T^T

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