Marrying my high school bully

Lorraine

A weary feeling of anxiety washed over me, knowing that it was the last day of training before the mini runway show.

Today, we were to showcase what we had been practicing all along, then the models that should participate in the show would be shortlisted. That was where the anxiety stemmed out from.

Victoria left with Emilia last night and ever since, the atmosphere between us has become more strained than before. My heart yearned to talk to him, even if it was the trivial conversations we used to have.

Stefan came into the training room dressed in a long flowing gown with dolman sleeves. His nose, which I didn’t notice was pierced, had a medium sized round ring on it.

But his queer way of dressing didn’t cause a dent to the beauty of his face. Maybe if he dressed more like a man, I’d make him my crush.

“Good morning, everyone.” He chirped with the same warm smile that he usually greeted us with.

“Good morning, Stefan!” We chorused, then I added. “How was your night?”

His warm smile got broader, “I’m fine, my darling.” The exchange of greetings were over, so he faced us all squarely. “As we all know, today’s the final day of practice which means whatever you do will decide your fate before the event. You’ll be shortlisted and if you don’t do well, I’m sorry to break the news but you won’t be able to model for the show.” He reiterated.

My nervousness skyrocketed and when I darted a glance at my colleagues, I realised that I wasn’t the only one.

He allowed us to digest the news before he continued. “Prepare yourselves because in the next thirty minutes, we’ll be on a bus to the event center where you’ll show off all you’ve been working on. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” We chorused again.

“Whatever you do, do it from your heart. I wish you all the best, sweethearts.” He said and left the room.

A tired sigh left my lips as I wondered why his speech felt so motivating yet draining at the same time. There was not much time to entertain unnecessary thoughts so I headed towards my own space and began to rehearse my steps.

Mine was unique, Stella used to say, and just made for me, but I needed a lot of confidence to execute it perfectly and make everyone stare at me in awe or I’d just be some silly girl trying to make everyone watch her put her legs in front of the other.

Over here, not everyone liked me because they thought that I was given preferential treatment by Dexter. I could imagine how much the hatred would intensify if they knew what our real relationship was all about.

Thirty minutes later, just as Stefan told us earlier, someone came to inform us that our ride had arrived. My heart skipped a beat, knowing that it was time for business.

We took our bags and a few minutes later, we hit the road. On getting to the hall, my lips parted narrowly in shock. I quickly closed it to avoid being mocked by some of my seniors.

The hall was magnificent, prepping my small little heart about what I’d see inside. As I jumped out of the bus, I caught the sight of three people that caused my blood to pump in different ways.

Dexter was walking towards the hall with Emilia and Victoria standing beside him. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from screaming as the sight of him wrapping his arm around Emilia caused me to cringe with anger.

When did he become such a pathetic liar?

I thought he said that he was done with her, why would he be messing around with someone who didn’t have the shame of knowing when to stop throwing herself at a man?

He had already gone with them, so I followed suit with the group and forced my mind to focus on the main reason I was here.

We got acquainted with the runway and I couldn’t deny that the glances I found Dexter throwing my way-his eyes which were blazing with discomfort helped in chipping off the anger that had piled in my heart like an iceberg.

Something came to my notice each time I returned the glance at him. He was willing to be anywhere but with Emilia who kept grinning like she had won a lottery.

Stefan called us backstage where we had to dress up and change our outfits for each walk to give one more piece of advice.

“Make sure you do your best.” He said, “What you are about to do is the first step to making your claims as a runway model.”

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The final practice was finally over and it was safe to say that I was dead-beat tired. My nerves were frayed by the numerous eyes that stared at me; most of them were judgemental, the others nonchalant, while some just wanted me to fail.

Fortunately, I didn’t allow their thoughts to get to me. Deep down in my heart I knew that I’d done well and even if I wasn’t selected for the show, I’d work twice as hard to be on the next one.

We were granted a short break to use the convenience room. I opted to use mine to search for a snack since the food I’d eaten had dissolved already.

“That was a good catwalk you showed off back there.” I turned around, knowing who exactly had the voice.

Seeing him wearing an astonished and I’m-happy-for-you expression made me swallow the surly statement that laid low at the tip of my tongue.

“Thank you,” I replied curtly.

An amused look flashed on his face and disappeared quickly. “Where are you headed? I could drop you off, besides you look so hungry and tired.”

I didn’t react physically but deep down, my heart was doing a little happy dance. “You don’t have to.” I waved it off.

“I know that I’ve been a douchebag and you are so pissed at me but trust me, everything I’m doing is for your own good.” His voice had gotten a bit tender, like he wanted me to believe what he had to say.

Emilia came up behind him with a huge scowl on her face. Obviously, she wasn’t happy to see her stolen piece of cake on another’s person’s plate. “You told me that you were going out, you didn’t tell me it was with her.”

He spun around and pinned her with an icy stare. “I’m not accountable to you, Emilia, you are not anything important to me. You are not even my wife!” He thundered, our eyes met after he made mention of the word ‘wife’.

“Then tell me, Dexter, is she your wife?” She shot back.