When Perfect Meets Crazy

Chapter 7: 07 - I like your panties. Very sexy.

I entered the house, confident in the knowledge that only Olly was home and she wouldn’t care

whether I looked haggard or not. She would ask but she wouldn’t pry or berate me the way my parents

would. And most importantly, unlike my parents, she’d think having a criminal stalk me was ‘cool’ and

not a reason to end my life. Honestly sometimes, her thought process worried me. A lot.

“Hey,” she called out with her head in the fridge as I locked the door behind me. “I’m hungry. Should we

order?”

“Sounds good,” I replied with a glance in her direction.

I could only imagine what she would do if she was the one being stalked. Knowing her and her

affection for the dark side, it was a good thing I was the one who ran into Masked Idiot. She’d make

him her best friend if she could.

She shut the fridge and turned to me.

“Pizza or burgers?”

“Any.” I shrugged half-heartedly.

“You looked spooked. Drained,” she commented.

My expression communicated the ‘so?’ very loudly.

“You good? It’s not like you. You’re always put together. Perfect,” she explained.

“Perfect my foot.” I scoffed and threw in an eye roll for good measure. ‘Perfect’ wouldn’t have an

unwanted stalker on her tail. ‘Perfect’ wouldn’t sort of be an accomplice to a criminal.

She frowned, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I’m good though.” I smiled. My facial muscles stiffly complied and while my heart wasn’t in it, it was

enough to fool her. I could win first place for best fake smile in the world. I perfected my technique a

long time ago. No one could tell the difference between my real and fake smile. Not even me

sometimes.

“Don’t ‘my foot’ me,” she countered.

I could just tell she was rolling her eyes so I rolled mine right back.

“You’re always neat and put together. My sister, the perfect... everything. Even the SATs didn’t spook

you.”

I frowned at ‘perfect everything’ even though a large part of me understood why she said it.

“They aren’t scary. It’s actually designed to help you pass,” I replied, my big sister streak kicking in.

I had passed the SATs with flying colors and I did it effortlessly. The whole point was so Olly knew it

was nothing to be afraid of. Fear and nerves were what threw most people off. I purposely didn’t study

half as much as most of my peers so she would understand it was like any other exam. So when her

turn came, she wouldn’t be plagued with nerves. Olly and nerves didn’t work well -probably because

she was so self-confident the other ninety percent of the time- and she almost always got nervous

about exams.

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

“Riiiight. Save the speech for someone who doesn’t know you’re a borderline genius.”

The way she drawled the words made it perfectly clear she didn’t believe a word I’d said. My efforts

were lost on her.

“Is this about the debate?” she pressed, eyeing me suspiciously. “Are you going to lose for like the first

time in your life?” She rolled her eyes, reaching for her phone across the table.

“Shut up,” I muttered, wondering just how much was a joke and how much was actual resentment.

She was my sister and I’d do anything for her but that didn’t change the fact that growing up with

someone who was the ‘perfect everything’ had to have been hard. Especially since she was always

getting compared to me.

I sighed, shaking my head to rid it of the unsavory thoughts. I had bigger problems at the moment -

namely the criminal who was probably sneaking into my room right this instant- and I knew she didn’t

hate me so there was little point going down that road.

“Don’t worry about it. Sure, losing came late in life for you but I’ll coach you through it. It’s the one thing

I’m better than you at.”

Again with the wondering just how much was a joke and how much was actual resentment.

“Zip it. You sing like an angel,” I countered.

Needless to say, my singing skills were less than stellar. I couldn’t hold a tune to save my life and to be

honest, I was half convinced I was tone deaf.

“I’m heading up,” I added.

“I’ll let you know when the food gets here.” She threw in a smile, the momentary antagonism more or

less forgotten.

“Okay.”

My skirt came off and sweatpants went on. The button-down shirt was also replaced with one of my

favourite sweaters, an oversized beige number. I needed that feeling after the day I’d had. I was

actually beginning to consider doing one of those ‘forgive me if I have ever wronged you’ social media

cleanses because this was more than simply bad karma. Someone definitely had a voodoo doll of me

somewhere and was sticking pins in it and placing new curses every three days.

I was about to finish setting up for a study session when Masked Idiot nimbly climbed in through the

window. For the first time in my life, I found myself grateful for the tree in front of the window that hid

him from view of anyone on the street. My friends had always said I was lucky to have a tree there to

help with sneaking out and whatnot but I wasn’t that kid. If I needed to be out late, I could very well

come up with a legitimate reason and my parents sort of -but not really at the same time- trusted me.

As long as I was home before midnight and they hadn’t specifically requested that I be home earlier,

they were fine with it. Anyway, most days, I came home straight after work so it gave them less reason

to doubt me. It gave them some sort of sense of safety especially since, given their jobs, they both

knew what kids could get up to. Just last month my mom had to represent a kid for drunk driving and

theft. The theft charges mysteriously disappeared after money changed hands. Lucky for him, his

parents owned a tech company my mom was representing so they could pull such a favor. It was a

paid favor but still. Their son got off with barely even a tap much less slap on the wrist for the drunk

driving. Anyway, the point was, seeing as I had never gotten into that kind of trouble, they believed I

knew better so they were a lot more generous with the reins. That and they were hardly home anyway.

“I’m all set up,” I announced, eyeing him contemplatively as I tried to decide what he’d do while I

studied.

“Here.” I handed him a spare notepad and a textbook I was done with. “Sit...” I trailed off, realizing I had

only one chair in my room.

I was definitely not going to let him take my chair and study table. It was my reading place in my room.

Plus, I was under no obligation to be a gracious hostess. I didn’t even want him here in the first place.

Unconsciously nibbling on my lower lip, my gaze roamed the room. The only other option was my bed Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

which definitely wasn’t going to happen. Sure, he’d been on it before but that was expressly without my

permission. I wasn’t about to let him at it again.

My gaze zeroed in on the beige rug at the foot of my bed.

“Shoes off,” I ordered, passing him a pair of indoor slippers.

Lucky for him, I liked the really oversized ones. I watched silently as he toed off his shoes, setting them

neatly by the window he snuck in through. I made a mental note to leave a pair of slippers there for him

henceforth.

“Sit. Study,” I commanded, gesturing to the rug. “Most importantly, don’t distract or interrupt me.”

He eyed the books I held out to him warily.

“I’m good, thanks.” He shook his head.

“You’re not in high school?” I frowned, painting a good picture of a confused person. I was fishing for

information primarily but I had pegged him for a high school senior. Granted, he could actually be in

college although he certainly hadn’t displayed cognition worthy of collegiate level.

A beat of silence passed.

“I am.”

I bit back a smile.

He was clearly lying. And not doing a good job of it. I had two things to go on now; his first name and

that he was done with high school. It was only matter of time before I found out exactly who he was.

“So you’re not a senior?” I pressed, my confused frown still in place. I really could make it big as an

actress if law didn’t pan out.

“I’ll write it next year,” he said by way of explanation, pushing the books back toward me.

I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. How was he even a criminal? He could barely lie straight.

Playing along, I frowned and cocked my head to the side, shook it and then settled for an even more

confused look. “Explain.”

And the actress of the year award goes to...

“I’m busy. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment. It’s better to just take my exams later when I’ve

wrapped things up,” he managed, stumbling over too many words for even an obtuse seven year old to

believe him. And the worst criminal of the year award goes to...

“Clearly you’re busy.” I cooed, my tone drenched in sarcasm. “I mean, in between stalking an innocent

girl, committing multiple felonies and exchanging fists for no acceptable reason, where will you find the

time?”

He raised his eyes heavenward, choosing sensibly -the first sensible thing he’s done so far- to remain

silent.

“Anyway,” I pushed the books back towards him, testing just how far he’d take his -frankly,

disappointing- lie. I could’ve lied better when I was five. Seriously. “I think you should take the finals

regardless. So you screw up the first time.” I shrugged. “I’m sure you already spoke to your school...?”

I let the sentence hang, hoping he’d jump in and supply the name of said school. It could easily lead

me to his real identity. He might not still be schooling there but chances were that he did at some point.

All I needed to do was to get my hands on their yearbooks for the last few years.

Unfortunately, he didn’t conveniently jump in with the name so I continued, “This school must know

about your... extenuating circumstances. They probably wouldn’t mind seeing as they’re willing to put it

off at all.” I couldn’t mask the heavy sarcasm dripping from my tone as I added that.

No high school I knew of was that lenient, especially not with a senior. Definitely not enough to let them

take time off. That was more a college thing. Was he perhaps going to the community college?

“Taking it twice improves your chances.” I smoothed my face into an amiable smile.

Seriously, if law didn’t work out, I could have great career in the acting business.

“You already think you’re going to fail. It’s not like anyone is going to penalize you for it so why not just

fail and at least get an insight on how to do better next time rather than not take it and get nothing at

all.” I pressed the books into his chest in a very ‘this is for you own good’ manner.

He frowned.

I didn’t need a mind reader to know that line of thought had never occurred to him. He might be an

actual criminal but I was more of a criminal mastermind than he was.

“Besides,” I continued, “even if you don’t take it, it’s never too early to begin studying.”

It was too early. Way too early. I personally would never do it but he didn’t know that. And unlike him, I

was kind of a genius so I could cover much in a short amount of time. Studying was more a habit

cultivated to please my mom than a necessity.

He eyed me suspiciously as though he wasn’t quite sure how to react to my act of ‘kindness.’ It was

time to end this. I clearly wasn’t going to get any more information going down this path.

“I have to be honest here, I highly doubt you’re smart enough to get it right on one try. No offense.” I

added the last part reflexively, then frowned as I thought it over.

I normally didn’t say my meaner thoughts out loud because, more often than not, people couldn’t

handle them and it was ‘impolite’. My parents would not have approved. Whenever it managed to

escape though, I always pinned on a ‘no offense’ to keep things clean. This was Masked Idiot,

however. A completely different case. Our situation was not normal so I was under no obligation to

follow normal societal rules. I could just be the unfiltered me without having to apologize for it. I didn’t

have to be nice to him like everyone else. He wasn’t in anyway connected to my parents nor was he a

friends or classmate whose fragile emotion I had to be considerate of.

“Actually, you can take offense if you please. I don’t care.” I shrugged.

He clenched his fists, anger rolling off him in waves. The grateful but suspicious half frown was gone

from his face.

Through a tightly clenched jaw, he bit out, “I am not stupid.”

“Well,” I hedged, tilting my head, “that’s seriously debatable and a lot in the opposing teams favor. I

haven’t seen you do one remotely intelligent thing since we met so... Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

If looks could kill, I’d have been shot, buried, exhumed and then shot again for good measure.

“Or don’t.” I turned away and made myself comfortable at the study table. “Sit and start studying,” I

ordered over my shoulder.

I heard him take a deep breath and mutter “not worth it” before taking position on the floor. I shrugged

and flipped my book open, losing myself in studying.

I resurfaced twice. The first time was to get food which I generously shared with him since he was

studying or at least doing a good job of pretending to. The creases on his forehead made it look like he

was actually stumped by the material and I wasn’t unkind enough to let someone study on an empty

stomach. The second time was for a bathroom break.

After the food arrived, Masked Idiot closed his books and spent the ensuing forty-five minutes on his

phone. After he got bored of that, and probably because he felt a guilty being unproductive while I

studied, he reluctantly went back to it, staring longingly out the window every few minutes. It was a little

past dusk when he finally gave up all pretense of studying.

“It’s been hours. Aren’t you done yet? Sheesh,” he grunted.

I smiled reluctantly, scanning the last few sentences in the chapter before calling it a day. I’d never

admit it out loud but I was mildly impressed he managed to stay quiet and at least try to study.

I heard more than saw him rise to his feet. He walked over to my set of drawers and randomly pulled

open the second one. I flew off the chair before my brain fully registered what was going on -in my

haste, I tipped the chair over- and hurried to him, slamming the drawer shut. Unfortunately, I was too

late. I knew instantly from the look on his fact that he’d seen them. Enough of them. And that was

before I even saw evidence of it is his hand.

“Nice underwear,” he drawled. “Great taste.”

An emerald colored lace panty hung from his index finger like a flag. The smirk on his face made me

want to be erased from existence. Cue instant embarrassment and a deep flush that my dark colouring

-thank God- hid. I immediately reached for my unmentionable but he moved faster, holding it out of my

reach.

“Now, this is interesting.” His smirk widened. “A boring straight ‘A’ student with a drawer full of pretty

interesting underwear. Very sexy. I approve.”

I could die. If it was possible, in that moment, I would. There was nothing more embarrassing than a

not entirely ugly criminal within your age bracket having your raunchy panty in his hand. Trust me on

this one.

“I said straight A, not boring,” I corrected through cotton mouth and I desperately grabbed for my item

of clothing. Damn it, give it back!

“Oh, it’s nothing to get your panties in a twist over,” he practically sang. To illustrate his point, he twisted

my you-know-what in the air. Okay, kill me now. Right at this moment.

I jumped to no avail. Damn him and his excessive height. Some of us hadn’t been fed steroids since

puberty.

“Give it back, now,” I hissed, making another grab for it. Success! I caught one end of it and had to tug-

of-war for it.

I was wrong before. This was infinitely more embarrassing than him twirling it in the air. Why did he

even open the second one? Why not the first like a normal person?

“Let go,” I snarled.

“Let me in your dirty little secret. I won’t tell.” He wore a wicked grin. “Who do you wear these for?”

Whoever you are with that voodoo doll, now would be a good time to yank the head off. Just kill me.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.” I coloured fiercely. Enough that even my dark skin couldn’t hide

it. “I just like them.”

I wasn’t lying. I really just liked them. Most girls my age wore them. I did too. It was just embarrassing

for someone, especially one of the opposite sex, to see.

In our struggle for my you-know-what, we ended up ripping it. At which point, he awarded me a sly

leery smile.

“Don’t say a word.” I hissed, snatching both pieces of it to dispose of later.

I tried not to let the loss reflect on my face. Those things weren’t exactly cheap. I distracted myself with

thought on how to dispose of it. The last thing I needed was for my mom or dad to see the ripped

panties. Heaven knew they’d never believe it didn’t involve sex which I explicitly wasn’t supposed to be

having yet. Not that the real story was any better. Oh, it got torn when I was playing tug-of-war with a

criminal I let into the house. Any further questions? Yeah, that was not going to fly.

My expression after I returned from hiding the pieces in the bathroom must have warned Masked Idiot I

wasn’t in the mood because he wisely sobered up and kept the rest of his innuendos to himself.

“Olly, that’s my sister, is on cooking duty today so for now, I’m free. My mom should be home soon

though so you might want to be leaving.”

He shook his head stubbornly.

“Fine,” I acquiesced.

It was a shot in the dark anyway. I hadn’t expected him to skip out now after putting up with all my

hours of study time. He was determined, if nothing else. I knew I could manipulate him into leaving with

the ripped panty incident but that would involve actually mentioning the incident. No. Nope. Never. I’d

much rather pretend it never happened. I’d carry it to my grave. Or at least to a drunk college party

where no one would remember a thing the next morning.

I would have to put up with him till he was ready to leave.

“Normally, I read a novel or...” I trailed off, eyes darting to my laptop as I debated whether to reveal that

nugget of information.

He wasn’t in my social circle. It was unlikely that it would come back to bite me but with the way my

luck was running lately, it wasn’t entirely improbable that it would so I shouldn’t be taking such a

chance. I worried my lower lip, eyeing him up as I contemplated my options. I had a match scheduled.

One I really didn’t want to miss. And he didn’t look like he had any intentions of leaving soon. Not to

mention, he had already seen the flickered glance at my laptop.

I sighed wearily.

I had to tell him otherwise he’d think I was ‘communicating with someone about his secret.’ I could feel

it already in the way he was looking at me. Honestly, the idiot thought everyone was in some way

interested in his identity. If he was a bigwig celebrity I might see why but he was just a stupid idiot who

played dress-up on days that weren’t Halloween. Or Comic Con. Only pre-pubescent comic geeks did

that for heaven’s sake.

“What?” His gaze hardened as he glanced meaningfully at the laptop.

I sighed again.

I was right. He clearly thought I almost slipped up about some shady business involving him. He

couldn’t be any more self-involved if he tried.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone.” I bit my lip.

“If it has nothing to do with me, then I won’t be telling anyone because I won’t care.”

“You’d better not. Otherwise, I’ll tell my dad, you know, the sheriff, about your little illegal fight club.” My

eyes televised that I wasn’t bluffing.

He bared his teeth in a menacing snarl.

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed. “Or I’ll pull your teeth out and boil it.”

I was accommodating him enough already. I wasn’t going to let him pull threats on me. I had been

more than generous already by letting him follow me around. I didn’t have much of a choice but still,

very generous.

My creative threat caused a frown to mar his features.

“What?” He shook his head.

“Your teeth,” I said slowly, pointing at mine the way one would when explaining something to a child.

“Yank it out. I have pliers for that.” I made a yanking motion. “Then boil it. Soup.” I stirred an imaginary

pot.

Granted, it was an odd threat but it couldn’t be that hard to understand. His eyes narrowed as he tilted

his head to the side, trying to figure out whether or not I was joking.

I flashed him my creepy ‘possessed doll’ smile before turning away. I set up my laptop on the study

table and sat back down. After a beat, he sidled up to me, watching greedily over my shoulder like

someone about to discover a juicy secret which he was because even Olly didn’t know about this and

she knew me better than anyone else on the planet. She still believed all my money came from my

multiple jobs and the occasional monetized academic competitions.

I booted up the laptop, opened a hidden folder and double clicked on the icon in it. The screen went

dark for a few seconds before being taken over by the opening image of a PC game.

“What’s this?” He frowned.

“A game.” He really wasn’t the brightest bulb in box. “You can’t tell anyone I play.”

“Your big secret...,” he frowned, suspicion coating his tone, “is a game?”

I did my best to ignore the stab of embarrassment that stemmed from his remark.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m an honors student. A black honors student from a primarily academic

oriented family. It may be a stereotype but it doesn’t make it any less true. My parents would be

mortified if they ever found out I played these games. Especially given how good I am,” I lectured,

wondering detachedly why I felt the need to do so.

I took out my earphones, plugged them in and logged into the virtual world where I was scheduled to

battle the Crone of the Underworld with a virtual friend.

“I know this game!” he exclaimed, leaning in to get a better look. “Hang on, you’re... Are you...”

Wide, surprised eyes swung to me.

“How are you that high up in levels?” he inquired, astonishment coating his tone.

“I’m good at everything I do.” I smirked, unable to help myself.

Since I took painstaking efforts to hide it, I’d never received a compliment on my gaming skills from a

person I actually knew. The ones I usually got where from virtual acquaintances I had battled with or

sold my accounts to so I wasn’t immune or desensitized to it yet. Now that I finally got one, I couldn’t

not revel in it.

“So humble,” he drawled.

My lips stretched into a lazy grin.

“You bet, Underwear Thief.”