Chapter 79 The Interview Part III (1/2)

Two more rather unimpressive candidates went by. By this time, Beatrice and Sam felt disheartened and thought that they would never find someone that would truly fit the bill. Would they need to lower their standards?

Were their standards too high?

”Irene Chee,” Francis called out the fourth candidate.

Irene stood up excitedly, smoothing her black pencil skirt that reached slightly above the knee. She had managed to go back after class and change, making sure that her outfit was what a typical company secretary would wear.

Or rather, like the secretary of a CEO. That's what she viewed being the Secretary of the Student Council would be like. After all, the President would be Kyle, and Kyle is the heir to the Smith Industries business. It was only a matter of time.

Irene was a petite girl with an angelic face and rather curly hair. She managed to tame her normally wild curls into a tight bun, wore a simple grey skirt and jacket with a white shirt underneath and to top it off: glasses. She didn't need them but it gave the very 'secretary' vibe, didn't it?

Irene politely knocked and entered upon hearing the words to do so. Her back straight, she gave a small smile and sat down - slightly disappointed that it was only Beatrice and Sam. Still, she didn't let it show on her face.

”Irene Chee,” began Beatrice, ”Why do you want to be a Secretary in the Student Council?”

”I am here for the experience,” Irene replied, ”The Student Council is one of the greatest student body that allows one to be able to put into practice, and develop, one's skill. I am a person who wants to grab that opportunity to not only better myself, but also to help guide the Student Council to its apex.”

Sam nodded, slightly impressed, ”You mentioned that the Student Council allows you to put into practice and develop your skill. What sort of skills are you talking about?”

”It would be my skills to pay attention to detail and write reports, which would be useful for the position of Student Council Secretary,” Irene said.

”And you have these skills?” asked Sam.

”Yes. I have been class representative and was in charge of compiling the day's events to the class teacher,” Irene said.

”Show us an example of such a report,” Beatrice said.

Irene smiled apologetically, ”I'm sorry, but I don't have any with me right now.”

”It's okay,” replied Sam, standing up and going over to her, handing her a sheet of paper, ”Why don't you write one right now, about today's class?”

Irene smiled and took the paper with confidence, though inwardly, she was frantically trying to think of the day's event. How is she supposed to write it with them looking at her like that? Since she wasn't the class representative that year, she never quite paid attention.

She took several deep breaths before focusing on her paper. 'Come on, Irene, you can do this. It's a simple report like you've done countless of times.' She tried to remember what had happened that day and to pick out any important or significant event of the day.

She began writing. 'Today, on Friday, XX date,XX month of year 20XX ...'

Just then, she heard the creak of a door opening to her left and she looked up. The pen in her hand stilled and she had her mouth hanging open. Kyle walked out of the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulder and he was busy vigorously drying his wet hair with one side of the towel. He was in jeans, with the belt unbuckled and hanging loosely bythe sides. The button of his jeans was also not buttoned up and only partially zipped up. His shirt was also unbuttoned and slightly open, tantalizingly revealing the smooth skin and six-pack.

”KYLE!” hissed Beatrice and Kyle stopped, appearing shocked as he looked at the three of them, his shirt swaying with the movement and showing more skin. There was water dripping at the side of his face, some actually going down his neck and onto his chest ... slowly ...

Irene gulped and gripped her pen tighter. How she wished she had her phone right now to take that photo. How on Earth does a 13-year-old do that? Look like that? Have that aura which screamed of 'maturity' which makes one easily forget how young he is? Shouldn't that be illegal?

”Ooops! Sorry! I totally forgot that the interview is going on,” Kyle said sheepishly, putting down the towel that he was using to dry his hair. Now the rather damp side fell on his shirt, making it slightly wet and see-through.

Beatrice's eye twitched. <Yeah, right. He forgot.>

Kyle walked over to Beatrice and Sam, putting his hands up and together, palms facing each other as he apologized profusely. He then stood behind them and leaned forward a bit to whisper to Beatrice, ”Surprised?”

Beatrice ignored him and Kyle turned his head a bit towards her. He then smiled slightly, to show off his dimple and placed his hand at the back of her chair. He leaned closer towards her ear and said softly, ”At least someone is rather entranced by my entrance.”

Beatrice looked up and saw a shell-shocked Irene.

Irene had not moved in her frozen position, her pen unmoving in her hand while she just stared at Kyle. With him leaning forward like that, his shirt opened up more. The light behind him made him look like some Greek God and the way he leaned closer as if whispering sweet nothings into Beatrice's ear was ...

Irene gulped noticeably.