FOUR | LAKAD

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                It has been four days since I last saw the guy; ever since he asked what’s up with me. School, as usual, went by smoothly, except for a few—okay, lots of works to do.

Though the bell would not ring until seven minutes later, I still speed-walked towards my next class which is World Literature. I always like to come in early, just so I can have a few silent minutes to myself or to review my notes. As I walked in the room, I immediately plopped down my usual seat: at the back. The professor doesn’t really have any seat plans for us.

“I trust you kids to behave and be mature in here so yeah—go to your seats.” That was the exact words that he said at the first day of our term (though I’m fairly sure he regrets it now, the class is way too loud).

Students slowly trickled in as time passed, and when I grew bored of watching them come in, I rummaged my bag for my sketchpad. I briefly glanced up when someone sat beside me before focusing again on my bag. “Oh shit.” I mumbled when I rummaged my bag again for the sixth time for a pencil. I swear sometimes my bag’s made of Doraemon’s* pouch; aside from it’s kind of deep, there are too much zippers, pockets, hidden pockets, whatever! But anyways, I still can’t find any pen or pencils.

Are you eating them? I mentally fumed as I glared at my bag. I am pretty organized, so how could I really misplace a pen or even a pencil—

“Um. . . excuse me? Do you have any pen that I can borrow?” I asked my seatmate before I can stop myself.  She looked at me startled, as if I’m the reincarnation of Confucius. Maybe I am, maybe not—who knows?

I smiled sheepishly when she grabbed a pen from her purse and handed it to me. Murmuring thanks, I started drawing almost immediately; the itch to draw is so overwhelming so I just let my hand to the work. I started stroking different series of lines that I was so engrossed to it that I do not know what I am really drawing. I was so sucked in my world that I jumped a mile when my seatmate complimented me of my work. I leaned a little to see what I drew.

Mask.

I have drawn a face of a woman in half—her entire (or at least half of it, if it makes sense) face was smiling but her eye showed hollowness. Something that. . .

I smiled at her and once again squeaked a thank you. We both focused our attention towards our teacher who just walked in as soon as we introduced ourselves. And somehow as the teacher talked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I have seen Lucielle before.

 [ ~ ]

    The next thing I knew, I already told her about my father’s balding hair. Don’t even ask me how, for I have no idea what I’ll answer to you. Surprisingly, a substitute was seated in front, drifting away to the dark side—I mean, she’s sleeping. Almost ten minutes ago, the teacher that walked in was just announcing to us that we will be having a substitute, that our World Lit teacher was attending some convention or a seminar somewhere around the world. It’s pretty much free period as soon as the sub finished checking the attendance so the class was more louder than before- yes, before you complain, I intentionally did it. Just so you can grasp the nature of my situation. Cue the L-O-L, or the R-O-T-F-L-O-L, L-M-F-A-O or whatever abbreviation you have in there.

Lucielle and I moved from one topic to another. She told me of her younger brother and how he thinks he’s a vacuum cleaner in his past life, I told her about the time I tripped on my own feet and I swore I saw our dog sigh and shook its head and looked at me like I’m stupid. No kidding! We talked about music, movies, and hot guys (the topic lingered on Zac Efron and his yummy abs, by the way). Sometime during our fan-girling towards Zac, my mind wandered off the guy from the cafeteria a month ago. His face was really gorgeous, and not to mention his eyes; so intense, so alluring. I can see darkness among its depths, its secrets hidden beneath his exterior. Just like every one of us. Now I’m fan-girling over him. Before I can fan-girl further, Lucielle nudged me to announce that the class was over, even giggling after saying that we fan girl-ed too much.

She patiently waited for me to fix my things, and as we walked out of class, she continued chattering about random things that I would occasionally nod or ask or comment anything. Ever since my internal fan-girling, I was distracted.

“Justine!” she suddenly dashed towards someone, whilst I slowed my pace, not really knowing what to do. Should I leave? Should I wait? I gripped my phone tighter and awkwardly shifted my weight from one foot to another as they talked. I can feel their gaze a few minutes later, so I slowly lifted my eyes to awkwardly meet theirs. Lucielle is looking at me with a smile on her face.

Did she say something? 

“Hi. I’m Justine. Lucielle’s  friend.” The guy behind her has a shockingly deep voice. He was smiling at me.

“Wha- I mean, um. . . Maryssa. My name’s Maryssa.” I looked down my feet again. Didn’t I tell you I’m not good at keeping a conversation, let alone an eye contact? No? Well, I am.

“Nice to meet you, Maryssa.” I heard him say. I just nodded.

“Yeah. . . you too.” I awkwardly said. “I. . . I’ve got to go. Nice meeting you two again.” I said, looking at Lucielle.

“O-kies!” Lucielle chirped as she moved away from Justine to hug me. A gesture that left me surprised so I awkwardly (surprise, surprise!) patted her back. I gave them a small wave when I walked towards another hallway. Justine smiled while Lucielle waved back.

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a/n: I’m sorrs for the grammatical error. Lol!

*Doraemon –  it’s an old Japanese cartoon (it is, just not sure how old. I think it’s already there even before I was born) where a weird robotic cat can produce anything at his small pocket. The cat helps a boy named ‘Nobita’, who is. . . say, always bullied or some sort. Lol that’s all I can say.