3TS: The Chances of Starting Again

Courage

Courage. The word that turns boys into men. The feeling you need to stand up to enemies and evil things. The character girls love in a boy. 

I can't believe it, Journal. I just can't believe it.

We're friends. Finally, after two cycles of nothing and pain...I'm his friend.

Well, it wasn't easy. The next day, we were still having that there's-an-invisible-wall-between-us feeling. So, I had to make an effort.

When I stepped up to the door of the Chemistry classroom the next day, everyone was huddled there as if they were scared of something on their seats. I pushed through until I actually felt the same way when I saw the new "equipment".

Tubes, new tables fit for two, and chemicals in bright colors filled the room. The new smells overwhelming my nose made me feel sick. It was like being in a witch's kitchen, filled with potions and horrible smells.

I heard many of the students whispering to each other:

"I'm going to fail this class with all these chemical reactions we have to memorize." A nerd said while adjusting his glasses.

"Do you think we can blow up this room with those liquids?" I'm pretty sure a boy whispered that. Because...boys are boys.

"I think you can be poisoned with chemicals like these. If it touches your skin or something..." A girl said behind me.

"We're going to die!" Okay, a guy yelled that out loud, so it wasn't a whisper. Fortunately, several other boys laughed at his joke, so it lightened the mood.

And then the witch came from behind us. "Class, take your seats at the new tables." Well, Journal, she wasn't the witch. She was just our teacher who just really loved Chemistry.

The students stopped whispering and headed to the tables without a single word. It was like a haunting silence had entered the room. I could feel it. But we were probably just not used to all this expensive equipment, clean new tables, and screeching seats when we clambered into these high seats. But when we were settled, the room started to buzz with normal talk of the day.

I gazed around the room, seeing Juan high-five his seatmate, Arlene was trying to connect with her new seatmate by talking non-stop, and even the girls who got partnered with boys were already laughing or gently pushing each other like they were best friends joking over a funny incident they saw on the internet.

I glanced at Trent, who seemed to be locking eyes with the unknown in front of him. We were most likely the only ones who weren't talking to each other.

I cleared my throat, "You ready for this?" I smiled, gesturing to the table of chemicals. He zoomed back into the present because he blinked and glanced at me.

"I accept the mission." He smiled. Seeing he was joking, I laughed. It was a good start, Journal. At least he was also trying to get over his feeling of uncomfort.

The next few days in Chemistry were a blur of chemical mixing. Literally. The mixing of all these toxics were making my feelings swirl around with it.

Trent was full of small jokes. When the teacher was writing on the chalkboard, he would grab the tablespoon and try to stick it on his nose. Then, he would try to talk like Squidward in a quiet voice.

I would laugh (silently) so hard, that my stomach would hurt and I had to hide my smile because it would become so wide.

Sometimes, he mimicked the teacher...and got caught. She would scold him, but since he was mostly a good student, he didn't get detention.