Chapter 4: The Bet *Plan

Watch a trailer of The Bet --->

The song is What becomes of a broken hearted by Didi Benami =)

There's a cast on the side, but you can imagine the characters in your head the way you picture them. . .

Happy Reading! :)

Chapter 2 *Plan*

~Drake

October 7, 2010.

The first day of the bet.

I still can’t believe why I agreed to do what Andre wants me to do. I hope nothing will happen in this month. For thirty days, I will court her, and on the thirty first, I will ask her to be my girl friend.

Sophia Taylor, what will I do to make you fall in love with me? I think to myself.

“Draky!” I hear my sister yells my name.

“What?” I call back to her. She walks to my room without knocking, her blue eyes, the same shade as mine, are full of hate. “And stop calling me Draky! My name is Drake.”

She glares at me with all her might. “Why did you eat my cake?”

Oh. That chocolate coated cake I found in the refrigerator yesterday. After class, I was so stressed that I had to find something sweet. And when I saw that cake, I couldn’t help myself but eat it, savoring its delicious taste.

“I didn’t know it was yours,” I explain. “It’s your fault; you put it in the refrigerator without writing your name on it.”

She stomps her feet automatically. “You should have asked first!”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at her. “It still is not my fault.”

“It is.”

“Is not.”

“It is!”

“Is not.”

“It is!!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

“Okay, okay.” I raise my hands in surrender. I can’t take her whining anymore, it is so irritating. It was just a piece of cake.

Girls are so annoying. They are creatures that are selfish, immature, envious, war freak, and self conscious. That’s why I've never been in a relationship before; I don’t want to be committed to a girl. I’m tired of their personalities.

I can’t even stand my own sister. I’m not even that close to her, considering we’re twins. Well, we don’t look anything alike, save the eyes. I am older than her by one minute and thirteen seconds. We’re always teasing each other so we just end up annoying one another.

Driana is nothing like me. She’s sweet and kind to everyone, except me. I know how lame that sounds. She’s intelligent, not that I’m not smart. Who am I kidding? I almost flunked one of my subjects when I was a junior.

Driana taps her feet on the floor impatiently, and puts her hands on her hips.

“Don’t act like a girl,” I say, “It's annoying.”

“But I am a girl.” She says, drawing out the word girl .

My head’s starting to throb. “Can you please just leave me alone now?” I have to take a shower and organize my things before going to school. “I’ll buy you a cake later.”

“The same one,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Fine.”

She’s muttering some unintelligible nonsense as she walks out of my room.

I still don’t have a plan, but I won’t let that stop me from winning the bet.

~Sophia

My parents' yelling is my alarm clock. They fight everyday; seriously, every-single-day, since the misfortune, not bothering to think about their sleeping child or our neighbors. I don’t know why they married each other when all they do is argue. I’m beginning to get used to it so I don’t question them. I should have learned from their broken relationship, but I didn’t, so now my heart is torn in half.

I thought love was the greatest feeling in the world. I waited for my prince for fifteen years, and when he came, he swept me off my feet. Our love was like a perfect love story. . . at first.  He was my shining armor. When I was with him, all my worries and problems seemed unimportant. All I could think about was how happy I was to be in love. In every relationship, someone’s bound to get hurt. Unfortunately in ours, it was me. When we broke up, my life came crashing down on me. It’s been almost a year since then, but the memory remains in my heart and mind.

Fairytales? Castle? Glass shoes? Prince charming? They are just fake, a trickery of the mind. The authors of fairytales have good imaginations; making their people, places, and stories seem very real. But the real world is hell.

I have thirty more minutes before I have to go to school, so I tune out the yelling of my parents by putting my headphones in and turning up my music full volume.

~Drake

“So, what’s the plan?” Andre whispers as the teacher’s aide gives the questionnaire for our quiz.

“I don’t know,” I hiss. Why can’t he leave me alone? He’s been bothering me with that question for almost two hours now. It started when I got out of my car. And right now, he believes that I have a plan.

“Come on,” he urges, “You can tell me.”

“I can hear you talking there,” Mrs. Young says, “please remain silent, so as not to disturb others.”

Andre slumps on his chair, and that’s my cue to begin my quiz.

The questions are a piece of cake. I read the topic twice last night so I’m not confused, and I answer faster than I intend to do.

I need a plan. Of course, first things first; I need to talk to her. How?

Accidentally bumping into her? Borrowing something she owns?

Think fast! Time is running out, in just an hour, I’ll be having Literature with her. From what Andre has told me, Sophia is smart, an only child, and a nice person.

Well educated, huh? An idea pops into my mind.

~Sophia

“Can you please lower your voice?” I whisper to the guy behind me, not bothering to look back.

I’m here to listen to the discussion, not to hear his chatter. He doesn’t stop so I twist on my chair and am about to glare when my eyes lands on a pair of familiar blue eyes. The eyes that stared right through mine yesterday, the eyes of Drake Swift.

Wait. Did he switch place with Ella? I don’t remember him sitting behind me. He looks at me questioningly and I turn around and try to follow the discussion.

Handsome guys are my weakness.

Looks can be deceiving!

He may have an appearance like an angel but I know that he’s wearing a mask. According to his sister, he’s a jerk. Thanks to Driana, I don’t have a crush on her twin brother anymore. Remember that, Sophia, never fall in love with a jerk. Oh, scratch that, never fall in love again because you will end up getting hurt, like before. But I can’t erase those eyes from my mind. The color of the ocean, the sky, the--

“Sophia,” Cristina mutters beside me.

“What?” Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I look around to see everyone staring at me expectantly. What now?

“Does that mean ‘no’?” Mrs. Coelho, our Literature professor, asks, raising her eyebrow.

What is she talking about? “Sorry, can you repeat that Ma’am?” This is why I don't like guys messing with my mind. I have to focus.

Sophia, take a deep breath. Erase the thoughts that are clouding your mind.

“Your classmate Drake is having a hard time following the lesson," she says, "He asked if someone can help him. Can you? Since you have the highest grade on the previous test.”

Oh no. I heave a sigh and mutter, “That’s okay, I think.” I don’t have a choice. Can I decline the teacher? Of course not.

“Meet up with him later after your last class," she instructs, "And tutor him.”

Turning around, I see Drake smiling mischievously. When he notices me staring, his facial expression becomes blank and he turns to listen to whatever Mrs. Coelho is discussing.

Tutor Drake Swift in Literature.

Fun. . .

Not.