Thirty Five

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A/N: I hope everyone's safe where they are ;-; it's not exactly a lockdown here and neither do we have a stay-at-home sort of notice but we're being a lot more careful now. I really hope to speed up my updates just so that perhaps you guys staying at home won't feel so lonely ;-; I know most of my readers are from the States so I am pretty concerned and worried for you all. 

As always, tough times are here. Hope this chapter can somehow relieve some of it :'D



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[Vanilla]



I find myself fond of being described as 'observant' or 'attentive', words I've never once heard in my lifetime of 'odd' and 'know-it-all'. I'd say paying attention to my surroundings and, well, generally being aware of whatever was going on around me had become a critical characteristic, what with the need to assess problematic situations and, in seconds, deduce the several probable solutions.

At present, I'd realized just how walking around with someone who tended to have all my attention could make this critical characteristic of myself entirely obsolete. It was hard being hopelessly smitten by an unwavering candle. One never really knew when to look away. Or how, for the matter.

"Is something going on behind us?" I said to this very being, glancing over my shoulder and following the general direction of whatever it was everyone seemed to be interested in all of a sudden. I spotted a lone mother pushing her baby cart around the fountain but nothing else seemed to warrant the attention of that many people. I turned back. "Oh."

Leroy had snorted, then shifted his weight so that he was now between me and the crowd of spectators.

"Nothing. Let's go."

I felt his hand on my back but a glimpse over his shoulder confirmed that the entire crowd gathered in the middle of the plaza—before the stage and all the way up to where we were—had continued to stare openly. Violet Birchwood and her partner had taken centre-stage beside the announcer and they, too, appeared to be looking our way.

"Um. Miss Birchwood," the announcer's voice sounded nervous, even over the PA system. "I don't think that's... I mean, I'm afraid inviting guest students into the contest isn't really, uh, allowed...? It's purely registration-only." Almost at once, I pitied the awkward student, probably a member of the logistics club who hadn't the slightest clue how to deal with difficult situations.

Thankfully, Leroy and I had caught on pretty quickly; Birchwood had invited the two of us to compete against her in the tag team competition, just by calling out our names as we passed. Needless to say, this was rather absurd. We'd exchanged a look, which practically conveyed the extent of our shared amusement. Or so I hoped it did.

"Yes, but they're late." Everyone could hear Birchwood pointing out on stage. I tugged on Leroy's sleeve and made a small gesture to leave, exercising maximum discreet. Adding to my pool of numerous enemies was not going to do well for the rest of my high school days and mind you, I've got three and a half years to spend. "Leroy and whoever that is can sub in."

We'd started in the direction of the third street food lane, away from the plaza fountain and everyone else when Birchwood had so unfortunately made the poor decision of not memorizing my name, which, of course, had to be the one thing Leroy was not going to stand for.

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