the girl in the corner.

episode 1: there was her.

in school, i was always the outgoing, handsome senior that everyone liked.

aside from that, though, the teachers also liked me and praised my grades. my classmates also appreciated me for that and none had hated me, thankfully, and i was on good terms with everyone.

this year, i was voted as the class president, a role too responsible for me, but i was sure i could handle it.

due to my popularity in class and around campus, many unnamed girls had grown a liking to me. i'd get a number of letters and direct confessions in the span of a month—thankfully, they weren't too consecutive to the point i detested school.

this year, most of the girls in our class had confessed to me of their feelings—our class mostly consisted of girls—but this one girl never spared me a glance. i was sure she never even knew of my existence before i was assigned class president. and i didn't know of hers either.

i only just acknowledged her presence in class when a friend of mine pointed her out to me. not one to pry on people's privacy, i didn't pay her much mind and acted like usual, and soon i forgot about her.

i mean, she's quiet and reserved, and she just sits by her seat in the farthest corner of the classroom bowing her head into her notebook and scribbling—that was what i saw that day. the teachers never called on her; my friend told me that she was called on when she first transferred here, but she didn't bother answering and just continued scribbling into her notebook, ignoring the teacher.

it wasn't like she was obliged to answer, was she?

since then, the teachers knew not to call on her to answer, for she won't.

i never heard her voice or seen her face. i for one always find the classroom full of students, and my friends always flock around me that i never even glance her way. she's like a ghost.

there was i, the most popular and well-liked boy, the class president and one of the highest ranking students, and there was her, an almost nonexistent being in her own world, scribbling, drawing, writing—doing whatever she did with her mysterious notebook that, most likely, contained her thoughts, emotions, and feelings.

there was i, and there was her, and we were polar opposites.