Our Symphonies | satosere

14 ;

「 fourteen 」

"She's bad news"

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I don't know what's more terrible about this Monday morning: The fact that I have no other option but to eat the soggy food of our cafeteria for lunch today – because Lillie was dying from her period cramps last night and we even had to order takeout for dinner –, or the fact that completing the goddamn history homework just escaped from my unfaithful memory.

No one looks as vulnerable as Lillie when her due date approaches. She's always been a case of anemia, and her unconventionally chalk white skin is an evidence. Excessive blood loss makes her dizzy and out of breath at times. I often tease her as an irony that despite her own unhealthfulness, she still desires to become a doctor.

And although Lillie's daily diet is much healthier than mines, her metabolism often toys with her weight and makes her appear smaller and younger than me.

Currenly it was homeroom period and Ms Viola's busy scrolling through her phone while the entire class burns in the foreground (only figuratively). No but really, the students were in their wilding zone, and I'm glad that I managed to grab the backmost seat as I plagiarize Chloe's history work. I've grown to recognize what her handwriting says, maybe more than any student.

I doubled my pace after checking the time on my wrist watch. History is all about mugging up one day before examinations and doodling in the textbook as the teacher goes on with the lifeless lecture.

I flipped the page of Chloe's notebook, and when a loose sheet fell out of it, I frowned. Did I just tear a page out of hurry?

Guess not, because I discovered that it was a sketch of some sort: comic characters with saucer plate like eyes and dialogue bubble. A potential Manga? Holy-

"Hey, you done with the work?"

My reflexes kicked in, and like a wildfire on dry autumnal leaves, I shoved the paper to the very back of my desk's shelf, much to Chloe's dangerous inquisitivity.

"Yeah - it's almost done," I fiddled with my pen, glancing at her through the curtain of my lashes. "Do you need the notebook back?"

Chloe smilingly shook her head,  maroon ponytail boucing with the action, and she soon shook off the uncharacteristic Sherlock Holmes behavior. "History bell's gonna ring in five mins, so you should hurry up."

"I guess," I went back to copying the sentences at Light McQueen pace, and she sauntered back to her seat beside Lana, who I recognized from Biology.

I pulled the Manga sheet from the desk and took a sneaky gander at it. It was illustrated through light pencil strokes, and the handwriting was awfully similar. Is Chloe a secret Manga artist? I refused to draw an inference to this argument, jumping onto conclusions is anything but logical.