What's In It For Me (2 page)

"Well, well, well," his tone quickly
changed from friendly to snide as soon as he saw me, "what are you
doing here, Sherlock?"

"I didn't know you work here," I told
him. To be honest, I was even shocked that he's working.

Andrew sat on a chair opposite me,
"Maybe you don't know everything about me, Sherlock."

I gathered my things and stood up. I
have no business here, in the coffee shop where my archenemy works,
"Whatever. I'm going home anyway."

"It's still raining outside," Andrew
looked out the shop's window.

I shrugged, "I'll make a run for it."
And I'll better run fast, my house was a good block and a half away
from here.

"Wait," Andrew stood up and headed to
the counter, "I think I have an umbrella you can
borrow."

I raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"What's in it for you?" I asked as Andrew handed me a plain black
umbrella.

Andrew shrugged, "I don't know, maybe
you can buy me dinner," his eyes widened as he thought of a better
idea, "or better yet, take me to your house now and make me
dinner."

"What about your work?"

"Nah, I'm just a volunteer staff here."
I blinked. Did he just say "volunteer"?

"Won't your parents look for you for
dinner?"

Andrew scratched the back of his neck.
A thing he always does when someone brought up his parents. I doubt
he has a very good relationship with them. During PTA meetings,
it's always his aunt Margot attending, whereas both my mom and his
boyfriend attend.

"I positively doubt that." Sure you
do.

"Okay. But you have to promise me that
you won't destroy me in my own home."

"I can't promise that, Sherlock. You've
been trying to destroy me since Kindergarten."

That's true. Very true.

***

"Mom, the wicked witch is back," my
younger brother Wesley yelled at my mom upstairs as me and Andrew
walked inside the house.

Andrew smiled at Wesley, "I like your
brother."

"Yeah, few people do," I said as I
shook my hair to remove traces of rainwater, "he's an alien, I'm
telling you. Don't make eye contact."

Andrew quickly turned to me, "Aliens
don't exist."

"Aliens don't -. Listen to you. Of
course they do. I can't believe how short-sighted you are." This
guy seriously needs work.

My mom, Rose Sherlock walked
downstairs. Her blond hair, unlike mine, which was red, cascaded
beautifully on her shoulders. Judging by her looks, firm skin and
very few wrinkles, people must've assumed she married when she was
a teenager. In reality, she married Robert Sherlock when she was 17
and he 20 due to the insistence of his authoritative parents and
her poor folks. He died in a freak accident just a day after Wesley
was born. I was five back then. Now my mom was going out with a
computer programmer 5 years her junior. People kept talking about
it as if it was a big deal but it never bothered the Sherlock
household, which was happy and complete as ever.

"Oh honey," she was saying as she
descended the staircase, "we already had dinner. You just go right
in the kitchen and -" She stopped midsentence when she saw my
guest.

"This is Andrew Alleyn from school," I
casually pointed at Andrew with my thumb, "He's here for
dinner."

My mom smiled at Andrew it almost made
him blush, "Of course. Andrew." Her mind travelled to the time when
I was five - the first time I met Alleyn. "From the
sandbox?"

I rolled my eyes in despair. "Oh my
God, mom, that was like, ten years ago."

But I can tell from the looks of her
that she can well remember that fateful day in the sandbox where I
first met the boy I would hate years later as if it was only
yesterday. It was just a funny anecdotal moment, of course.
Something a mother would want to catch on tape so she would have
something to blackmail her daughter with later on.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. My
mother was busy feeding baby Wesley so I managed to slip outside
the kitchen door undetected. I knew mom would be scared to the
point of insanity when she realized that I'm not in the kitchen
eating my lucky stars and marshmallows anymore. That's why I snuck
off in the first place. The playground was just a few walks away
from our house, which could pretty much be in our own backyard. I
loved the fact that the other kids would have to ride their
bicycles just to get there. However, when I finally got there, a
boy I've never seen before around was playing in the sandbox. He
wasn't even playing. Technically, he was just sitting on the sand
with his back on me. Out of juvenile curiosity, I approached
quietly. When I was so close I could smell Johnsons baby bath, I
saw that he was actually adding up three four-digit numbers. His
little fingers etching the numbers on the sand. For a
five-year-old, that was pretty mesmerizing. I was even more
mesmerized when he took my hands and let me add numbers with him. I
thought I earned a special friend that day, and I was right. But I
lost him the day I realized that he was harvesting more gold stars
in Miss Fletcher's class.

"That was thirteen years ago," Andrew
whispered close to my ear for added insult, "your Math's slipping,
Sherlock."

I nudged my elbow to his sides. "I was
never good in Math, jerk." I whispered back. I made sure my mom did
not hear that.

Then again, maybe she did, although she
didn't let on. She's my mom after all. "I'm sure there's food in
the kitchen. Help yourselves," she ascended the stairs. Just to
make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I would tell her later
that evening that Andrew, was not (oh definitely not) my
boyfriend.

"The kitchen's right over here," I led
the way to the kitchen the way a farmer leads his dumb
cow.

"Your mom's insanely pretty," Andrew
was still stunned by the encounter. Typical reaction.

I just shrugged and opened the fridge,
"You can have one of my mom's salads," and handed him a plastic box
of vegan salad.

"You know I'm a vegetarian?" he asked
incredulously.

"I Googled."

"I never told anyone about that, not
even Google." He said Google as if that was some kind of a
back-stabbing friend.

"I know a lot about you, okay." I
shrugged, "Besides, remember your petition for more veggies in the
cafeteria menu?"

He slumped, "Oh that."

"You almost lost the student elections
because of that." I mused.

It's weird that we've known each other
since forever but we've never talked longer than a few debating
dialogues. I know, for a fact, that he was vegetarian since age
nine, when he witnessed the brutal murder of his pet pig courtesy
of the local butcher. His parents argued that Apophos was getting
bigger and bigger for a pet pig. Truth be told, I felt slightly
sorry for him during those days. His grades faltered and he got his
lowest grade ever during this difficult phase in his life: a solid
A minus. My lowest was a B plus, during which I cried an entire
five hours straight. It has something to do by the fact that my
Social Studies teacher has a very different opinion than me when it
comes to the civil rights of women. Back to Alleyn, I knew that his
first kiss was Melinda Brooke who was two years his senior. I was
there that fateful day, armed with my trusty cam and cleverly
disguised as a balloon vendor with pink hair. It's not that I'm his
stalker or anything; I just made it my business to keep my friends
close and my enemies closer.

I pulled a bowl of boiled macaroni from
the fridge and poured a liberal amount of cheese sauce on top. Just
the way I liked it. I put the bowl in the microwave and pushed some
buttons.

"We only have Thousand Island dressing,
my mom's favorite."

"That's okay; I eat my salad without
dressing."

My eyes widened, "Wouldn't that taste,
I don't know, disgusting?"

"I don't mind the taste; I only eat for
the sake of not dying," Andrew shrugged.

The microwave finished its little magic
and I removed the bowl of macaroni cheese. I grabbed a spoon and
sat opposite where Andrew was sitting. Andrew watched as I ate my
dinner. Call me crazy, but I could swear he thinks my dinner's much
tastier than his. Which is totally true.

"You dying? I don't know, that sounds
pretty good to me."

Andrew chuckled.

"What?" I asked when I noticed that
Andrew was watching.

"I'll trade my salad for your
macaroni," he said.

I continued eating my dinner, "No way,
Alleyn."

Andrew looked at his salad. He
memorized its taste since he decided to go vegan at age nine.
Quickly, he dipped his spoon on my bowl when I weren't watching and
ate a spoonful of delicious macaroni cheese.

"What the -" I was taken by surprise. I
moved a little bit farther from Andrew.

"Why don't you try to be nicer to your
guest?"

"Guest your face! I'll kick you out of
here if you dare dip your spoon on my bowl again."

"Oh well, we might as well share my
salad," Andrew took a nice big lettuce leaf and spoonful of
tomatoes and dropped the vegetables on my bowl, "Enjoy,
Sherlock."

"Eew! Get your salad off my macaroni!"
I was yelling but for some crazy reason also laughing. Andrew tried
once again to dip his spoon on my bowl and missed. We were
laughing. We may not be friends and all, but because we've known
each other for so long, we felt very comfortable with each other.
No awkward moments at all. We went on like this until we finished
our dinner, talking in occasional one-liners and sometimes,
dialogues. When we finally walked out the kitchen, Reed Crowe, the
computer programmer, was already sitting beside Wesley in the
living room; both were watching the Original Star Trek Series on
DVD. I can't believe they did not wait for me.

"How's work, Reed?" I greeted casually.
Reed turned and smiled at us, "Great," he stood up and grabbed a
small plastic bag from the side table, "In fact, I have something
for you." He handed the plastic bag to me and I quickly looked
inside. I gasped loudly in excitement as I pulled out the latest
installment of Halo. Andrew eyed me intently.

"You are the best, Reed," I said,
emphasizing and meaning every word. For me, Reed has been more of a
father figure than my own dad has been. I keep wondering when he'll
ask my mother's hand in marriage.

Reed humbly shrugged, "I see you have
someone with you," he said.

For a moment, I forgot all about my
archenemy being inside my own house. I quickly turned to Andrew and
introduced him to Reed. "Uh Alleyn, this is Reed, my mom's
boyfriend. Reed, Andrew Alleyn, he's from my school."

Reed nodded cordially at Andrew and
Andrew nodded back.

"I guess you can take your umbrella
home now," I told Andrew and handed him his umbrella back,
"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," was all Andrew said
before walking out the home he never imagined he'd
visit.

***

"I already said no, Sherlock," Mr.
Parker, our principal, told me in his trademark
I've-already-decided-now-scam way.

I devised some plan to get the
principal see it my way. I couldn't have strained more how
important a spring ballet is to this school. This'll give an
opportunity to the ballet club to showcase its talent. Plus it'll
be great for the club members in need of a scholarship for
performance arts or aspiring to have a chance at Juilliard. Mr.
Parker's sister-in-law was a dean in Juilliard, so the arrangement
wouldn't be hard. I'll even gladly do it myself.

"It'd be good for our school. Think
about what the parents would say. Think about all the
praises."

"Think about all the bother, with the
championships coming up. I have to cut budget,
Sherlock."

I lit up, "Ah, don't worry about the
budget. I can do something about it."

He dropped his head in defeat, "You
have to talk to Andrew about this."

"Who?"

"Andrew Alleyn. I'm surprised you don't
even know your own president."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I know
Alleyn. Why do I have to?"

"Simple. He's the drama club president.
He practically owns the stage."

"But -"

The principal put up his hand to
disrupt, so I stopped talking. I cant believe he said Alleyn owned
the stage. He's the freaking principal for crying out loud. He
still have a trick up his sleeve. This is his secret weapon. He
knows full well how Andrew Jet Alleyn was my archenemy. Now he's
saying that I can't plan a spring play without coordinating with
the drama club. Screw that.

"Coordinate with the drama club or no
play, Sherlock."

I stood up and said my goodbye. As I
pulled the door and walked out I could here the principal
chuckling. What an immature person. I know he still lives with his
mom. Where will boys be without their moms? Ugh.