My Imaginary Boyfriend

My Imaginary Boyfriend *Deepest Thoughts

"Write down your name at the top."

"Why are we doing this again?" I ask Caleb.

He's about to reply when Mr. Condie says, "Ready?"

"Yes," my classmates say simultaneously.

"You will write your fears on your classmates' papers."

"What?"

I don't know who started it, but almost everyone in the class talk at once.

"It's easy," Mr. Condie says as he gestures for us to keep quiet. "I'll explain it to you. Let's say you're afraid of failing in class, then write it down. You need to know your fears in order to overcome them."

"What's the point of this activity?" one of my classmates asks.

"The more fears there are on your paper means that people trust you to help them conquer them. This will give you an opportunity to share your deepest thoughts with people without having you judged for it."

Does that even make sense? So if you're paper is blank does it mean no one trusts you? This is sick, and stupid.

"You'll pass down the paper to your right," Mr. Condie says. "You only have ten seconds so that all of you can write on everyone else's paper."

I don't even trust anyone in this room. Well, there's Caleb, but. . . can I trust him with my doubts?

I can't even handle them myself, why would I want to burden him?

"This exercise will help you face your fear," Mr. Condie continues. "If you don't feel like writing on someone's paper, it's your choice. It's not required to indicate your name after writing down your fears. The activity will end when you receive your own paper. Let's start."

"Pass."

For the past couple of papers, I didn't write anything. Instead I read the words on my classmates' papers. It's because I can't think of any fear. Besides I still think it's a sick activity. Why would you write your deepest thoughts on a stranger's paper?

No one wants to be laughed at.

But when I get Caleb's paper, I'm surprised to see that his paper is full of words. Maybe that's the reason why I decide to write my own fear on his paper. It'll be impossible for him to decipher my handwriting because of course, I decide to change it. Furthermore, there are a lot of fears on his paper; he wouldn't know which was mine.

Before I know it, I finally receive my own paper.

To say that I'm surprised to see words written on my paper is an understatement. I know I'm not sociable; I didn't expect my classmates to share their fears with me.

I'm afraid to take Algebra the second time.

I don't want to disappoint my parents.

I'm afraid I'll never see her again.

Does he really love me?

I'm afraid to die.

I'm claustrophobic.

She doesn't like me! Stupid unrequited—

 "Can I see your paper?" Caleb asks, interrupting me from reading my classmates' fears.

"No," I say. "Why do you want to see it, you have yours?"

He grins. "I'm just curious."

"Aren't you going to collect our papers?" one of my classmates asks Mr. Condie.

"No," he says, "You can have your paper. If you want, you can now start talking to your friends about your fears. You might help them overcome theirs. Someone said that if you accept your fears, that's the starting point in defeating them. I hope at the end of the school year you'll get over your fears."

We're all silent as we process what he said. I want to tell him that it's not easy to talk to someone and admit that you're hiding a burden in your chest.

"Let's call it a day," Mr. Condie says. "Bring your copy of The Catcher in the Rye tomorrow."

"Did you write on someone's paper?" Caleb asks.

"No," I lie. "It's just a waste of time. That activity wouldn't change anything. I doubt the intern is credible enough to teach us."

I stop from putting my things in my bag and look at Caleb; he's staring at something behind me. Turning around, I see Mr. Condie.

Uh oh. There are only few moments when I want to slap myself. And this is one of them.

Mr. Condie clears his throat. This is awkward. If only I can vanish right now.

"Thank you for walking me here earlier," he says.

I force a smile, but I'm afraid it looks phony so I just say, "No problem."

I don't know if it's the right time to say sorry for the thing I said about him being incompetent when he says, "I'll see you tomorrow." He turns around and walks out of the room.

I thought he'll reprimand me, but he didn't. Now I feel guilty.

"You should have told me that he was behind me," I tell Caleb.

He scratches the back of his neck, and looks uncomfortable. "You shouldn't have said that about him," he says, "especially when you don't know him yet."

I thought he'll agree with me.

"Give him a chance, alright?"

"Yeah, whatever," I say as I strap my bag on my shoulder. "I need to go; I don't want to be late in my next class."

He nods. "Sure. I'll see you later."

I walk out of the room in a hurry. Music room is in the other building. Mrs. Dorothea doesn't like students coming in late to class.

When I round the corner, I bump into someone.

Ow, my nose!

It feels like I run into a wall. The impact is strong; I even fell down on the ground.

Shoot! My hips will surely have a bruise later.

A hand suddenly appears in front of me, and helps me stand up.

"Thank— Daniel?"

My eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

Daniel!

His face is partially hidden with his hair, but I know that it's him.

My heart beats furiously in my chest. Am I dreaming? I rub my eyes to make sure I'm awake, and when I open them again, I'm alone in the corridor.

I really saw Daniel with my own eyes. I'm sure it's him because I made him. Every part of him is familiar. He helped me stand up, and I got to hold his hand for real.

Is it for real?

Am I just daydreaming with my eyes open? Am I hallucinating? Am I going crazy?

The loud ringing of the bell makes me jump in surprise.

I totally forgot about my next class. Right now I need to focus on school activities. As soon as I get home, I'll talk to Daniel and ask him about his mysterious appearances in the real world.

*****

The song is Silhouette by Owl City. Hope you liked it! =) Tell me what you think about this chapter, and what might happen next? <3

Thank you so much!