The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

16 : Rain

October 2004

Kimberly

Erick tells me he's going to the library. And I say, "okay, have fun." But the smile on his face slowly fades as he taps his notebook and moves his head from left to right. Then he leaves his seat and goes out of the door.

I don't know why or what, but there's something different about him today. Maybe it's his hair because he spiked it up a bit with styling gel.

I look around the classroom. Everyone is busy this morning. People are going around here and there, exchanging homework ideas or answers, racing the clock for deadlines. Mandark is quietly talking to himself while studying. Even Miss Valero is unwilling to be disturbed on the teacher's desk in front.

I'm working on the introduction draft that I asked Benjamin to do last weekend, which he handed me earlier before Individual Work Period. In fairness to him, it isn't bad. It needs some polishing, and I add other stuff to spice it up, but it's already good on its own.

I turn to my left to give him back the paper, so he can re-type it on their computer, which he already volunteered to do for the whole project, provided I do some (or most, to be honest) of the writing and check on the contents first. I stretch my left hand that's holding the paper closer to his desk, where he's hunching forward, doing the assignment for History.

He notices and impatiently drops his pen in the middle of his textbook. Then he grabs the white paper from my hand. The expression on his face doesn't change as he examines the write-up. He looks like everyone else here: serious, but calm.

He lifts his shoulders, sits up, turns his head, and faces me. A few strands of his hair fall near his eyes. He needs a haircut, or he'll get reprimanded.

"Thank you," he monotonously says. "I'll work on this later." Then he quickly turns away to his side and places the paper in his bag. And he's working on the assignment again.

I adjust back on my seat and open the Physics book to the chapter we're assigned to study this morning. I cross my legs, place my arm on top of the book, and rest my chin on my hand.

I continue reading the words. I have to read them again until they make sense. But they look foreign and mean nothing.

Something is off this morning. I caught his eyes earlier for barely even a second, but that's enough to notice they're not the same. They lack the luster that I've seen from days ago.

The scenes from the last couple of weeks come playing back in my head, only this time they're in black-and-white.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I just added the colors and the music to nothing more than ordinary days. Maybe I just read between the lines to make me feel better; to make the butterflies come alive so that I get to feel alive.

The bell rings, and I see my classmates shutting their books and notebooks all at once. I hear squeaks of chairs moving, and voices buzzing. I hear footsteps going to and fro, from here and there, and out the door. I see faces, but they don't resemble people.

Then Erick is back on the seat to my right.

I slouch on my chair. I try to read the Physics lesson again. The letters are finally recognizable, so I sit up straight. The book is making sense once more. The first sentence is familiar again. And the butterflies inside my body hide back into their cocoons.

***

I asked for the chami, but the lady behind the counter hands me a plate of spaghetti. I open my mouth to politely tell that her she got my order wrong, but she's already talking to the student next to me in line, which is a bit long today. I let out a sigh, take the spaghetti, and pay for it at the cashier.