"Never thought Twitter can give you a heart attack"

PING!

The familiar sound of my tablet when I have notifications caught my attention. I left the book I'm reading and check it.

Seeing the sign on the notification bar, I know that it is a notification from Twitter. Someone followed me again, for sure another aspiring singer who follows you and expect you to follow them back and after a month they'll unfollow you so that it'll look like they have lots of followers.

I swipe the notification bar down to see the b*****d who followed me. My eyes widened in shock. I think my heart stops beating for a second-I never thought Twitter can give you a heart attack.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh, my FREAKING gosh!!!!" I shouted happily, giddily, damn it all the positive adjectives you can think of. I close my eyes and slap my face to check if I'm dreaming or not.

Slap! And I open my eyes again to see reality.

Oh, crap. It's freaking real. And cheek hurts.

DYLAN CASTILLO @dylancastillo is now following you.

I can't believe it! He followed me back. But why? He doesn't know me.

I gasped. Oh gosh! This is it! Maybe he knows me? I mean maybe he is attracted to me secretly, that is why he followed me back. Or maybe he recognized me now? Oh my gosh! He remembers me as the girl soaked in his coffee!!!

Tss. Shut up! Don't be so assuming.

But still the rush hasn't left me yet so I shout again while I keep on jumping on my bed. "OH, MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!! He followed me back on Twiiiiiiiii-"

Bam! A flying pillow hit me straight in the face.

"Why the hell are you shouting?" Jewel, my gay friend who lives in the next room asked me annoyed.

I smirked at him and said in a proud voice "I'm just so happy that is why I shouted."

I sit on my bed regally while a huge smile is plastered on my face, unable to contain my happiness. He cocked an eyebrow at me, curious about my happiness.

"Um. Let me guess." Jewel said while he taps his head as gayly as he can to pretend he is thinking.

"Someone finally asks you out and accept your ugliness?" He jeered. I roll my eyes at him but still the happiness in me remains intact.

Not affected with his mocking, I get my tablet and show it to him while proudly saying, "Dylan followed me back on Twitter."

His face turns sour. My friend also likes Dylan. He gives me back my tablet and walks out of my room.

"Where are you going?" I asked him before he can close the door.

"None of your business!" He snapped at me.

"Oh. I know. You're going to open your laptop, log in on Twitter and follow him right?" I mocked.

"Tss." He snarled and walk out of the door while slamming the door shut.

I flinched, and then laugh a triumphant laugh.

I hug my tablet and sigh. "He followed me back." I blissfully said. I look at his coy smile on his profile picture and smile dreamily. We're one step closer to each other, my baby.

While checking his tweets, I see his glorious body gracefully surfing the waves. I dreamily look at his face and body. He is so perfect. Just like Superman.

I've been stalking him, crushing him, and secretly loving him for almost 3 years now. That day I saw him walking down the hallway and looking as gloriously as he can, making the girls gaped at him and guys envy him. He is tall, handsome, and rich with a body of a Greek God. Since then, I've admired him from afar. That day I have an exam in my Humanity class and I haven't reviewed yet and I haven't eaten yet, so I'm in a bad mood, but when I saw him my mood got brighter and thankfully, I aced our exam.

But that's not the only time I've seen him and changed me. So I use him as my inspiration, silently stalking him, asking around whom he is and what his major, and luckily for me one of my friends is also his friend. I've learned that he loves sports, exciting sports, like surfing, football, dirt car racing and diving.

He is rich and he is taking up a pre-medical course for preparation in medical school. He is a model, very famous and one of the most desirable guy in our campus, he is 'Superman' as everyone describes him because he really looks like Superman. And the most crestfallen thing I learned is that he has quite a reputation with girls, he is a womanizer. But I cheer myself up and just focused on the thought that he haven haven't found the right one, yet.

Though I'm not the right girl, I'll try to be the right one. I sigh again, look at my tablet for one last time, put it back in its holder and go inside my bathroom.

Looking at myself in the mirror and check my features. My face stares at me like mocking me and shouting loud in my face that there are no features to be assessed. But when, I asked my parents if I'm ugly, they'll say no. But now I know why if they'll say I'm ugly they are like indirectly saying to themselves that they are ugly. So better to lie than mocked them.

I have a small nose, not flat actually it is kind of straight and pointy it is not just that prominent. My dark-brown eyes are small and Chinese-like though I don't have a Chinese blood. They said my eyes are fierce and tantalizing, but I don't believe the latter.

My teeth are all aligned and white and when I smile my grouchy face lights up. My eyebrows are bushy and terrorists can use this as a hiding spot, I barely wear makeup, which makes me look like I'm sick all the time. My hair is frizzy and midnight black in color. My complexion is naturally tan.

I look down at my body and assess my almost non-existing features except for my huge a*s. A pear-shaped body--it means that I have an almost non-existing b***s, small waist, and a childbearing hips. Yippee! The human race is sure to be preserved. And my hairy legs are short and stumpy. About my height, it is close to being considered as a middle-school kid.

I may not be pretty outside, but I know I have something to brag about, my talent and intelligence. If I'm going to ask the people around me what they think is my biggest asset there are three things they will possibly say:

1. My big fat a*s

2. My intelligence

3. My talents

And if someone is going to compliment me that I'm pretty, I'll make sure that they are not running a high fever. Because as far so I know that will never happen.

I walk back to my room and see my books, I'm a bookworm, but I'm not capable of buying a hard copy of it so I stick to my PDF and Epub books that are free from the web. And then, out of willingness my eyes landed on our family picture, our smile reaches our ears and our eyes sparkle with happiness.

I'm the only child-my parents died when I was 17 years old. They died while on their way to the graduation venue. This thought saddened me; I shake my head to eliminate the depressing memory in my head. I don't want to go there; this is not the time for being dramatic.

Lucky for me that I'm smart enough to be qualified in a scholarship program of Harvard University. I rely on every cent the University gave me in the past almost-there three years until it cannot satisfy my needs, so I look for a job that can fit with my schedule. It is a good thing that the Cabot House café is hiring that time I'm looking for one. The universe is conspiring with me so that my burdens will be lessened.

That is why I have to study really hard to maintain my scholarship. I envy my friends who don't have to worry about their tuition fees and can enjoy their college years partying and having fun, while I'm always stuck in my room studying, making sure that I will not have any low grades.

My daily routine is to wake up, eat breakfast if there is one, clean the room a bit, since my roommate is always missing in action, who either sleep in the house of his boyfriend who happens to be new every week or she passed out in some bar, at first I got worried and pick her up but then I got tired and let her live her life, she doesn't study but still manage to pass every exam with an acceptable grade-exercise if there is still time, take a bath, go to school, go to class, have a break time with my friends, which is the only social life I have, go to the library, go to a small church which houses 20 orphans for a short time and go to work until 10 p.m. or sometimes 12 a.m., if some staff asked my favor to cover for them.

Upon arriving at my room, I'll just change my clothes, check my emails, and see if there is food available to eat and if there is none, I'll stick with coffee, clean myself and then study until 3 a.m. if I can.

All in all, I just have 4 hours of sleep a day. 7 is considered a miracle.

But never did I give up, I keep on telling myself that I'll be a doctor someday and maybe Dylan will notice me, like how Superman notice Lois Lane, the only difference is that Lois Lane is beautiful and I'm not. But its fine, at least I'm smart. Plastic surgery is an easy thing, but having no brain, no surgery can help that.

My room is pink and white since I've moved here, my bed is small, but its comfort lifts me from stress and heartaches. My eyes landed at the beautiful picture of Dylan on my bedside table, I pick it up and stare at it dreamily.

Looking at Dylan's eyes is like looking at the sky. Calm, refreshing and captivating, his blue eyes are calling every piece of me. Dylan's hair is jet black and straight, unlike with the real superman that is slightly curly. His jaw is chiseled and his smile is mischievous. And his body is well-built and muscular. He is every girl's dream. Just like Superman.

Another sigh escapes my mouth, how can this perfect guy notice me? How? I slumped on my bed and hug his photo. Close my eyes and maybe in my dreams, there will be us.

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems