on the next spring | ✓

5

Inspirasi - Faizal Tahir

It was still in spring of 1997.

We were told to stay in the senior's classroom because our homeroom teacher wouldn't be around for a week. I was planning to make my way to the library and spend an hour or two restoring my energy by sleeping. And then it hit me.

I might be in her class. I might see her today. 

I wasn't caring. I was just curious as to how she was doing.

And so when I entered class 5-4, the first row caught my attention as I bowed to the pupils in the classroom. The class president was explaining to the seniors as to why we needed to interrupt their study session and stay with them, while I was busy looking at that one girl who was standing up before her desk while her classmates were sitting comfy on their respective chairs. The girl didn't even greet me a glance, but I knew her. Of course I did.

So, she is a 5-4 student?

"Please sit at the back, boys and girls. Do your own work, but be quiet and don't interrupt your seniors. They've got important exam to take this year." The female teacher welcomed us in, and when I walked pass her table, the girl looked up and our gaze met. She didn't do anything, she didn't say anything. 

We had neither talk nor meet at school as we kept our relationship as private as ever. One wouldn't have thought that I was a friend of the school's top student. 

Friend, huh?

I sat on a chair far from my other classmates. I was about to put my head on the table and fall asleep, but as soon as I heard the teacher's voice, I stopped. 

"Miss Lee, how many time do I have to tell you to follow the timetable given? This isn't the first time you forgot to bring your textbook to my class." The female teacher sounded rather frustrated as she stood up facing the girl. I was out of my conscience state, as I found myself all-ear. Was I really making her business mine?

I saw the girl smiling. She looked pale but her smile seemed so genuine. I didn't know if I had ever saw that kind of smile from her. "I'm sorry, Madam. I'll make sure to be alert." 

The teacher shook her head, as if she was tired of the very same answer. But not an inch did the smile faded. The girl continued on smiling and bowing as the teacher let her sat down and before leaving the classroom.

As soon as the teacher was out of sight, the whole classroom turned into a whole morning market. I didn't know what had gotten into me but I had my eyes fixated on the girl. Her expression, what she did. Everything. I saw her took out a multiplication table, murmuring stuff - most probably memorizing the table - seconds after, she wrote on the same notebook she had on spring last year. 

I watched as she smiled and greeted everyone who came across her table. Everyone that happened to walk in front of her, as if she was really happy to see them. Had she ever be happy to see me, I wonder. But I shooed the thoughts away of my mind. Why did that matter?

The next teacher came in, and she voluntarily stood up, admitting that she had forgotten to bring her textbook. The girl then got confused at every little thing the teacher said. I could see that on her face. She was like a book that day, I could read through her. By the time the period came to an end, the teacher let her sat down again, and she started laughing and making joke out of herself. 

No but what got her so cheerful and happy that day?

The her that I knew was someone neat and tidy. Even though most of the time, she would skip school, but everytime I peeked into her backpack, she got all of the textbook needed for those specific days. As if she had a plan that if nothing worked out, she was just gonna head to classroom and actually learned something.

Was it because of the thing that got her crying on the road a week ago? But she looked rather happy at the moment. She was out of place and zoned out a lot, she even spent most of her time writing in her notebook, but she smiled often and even laughed at the lamest joke just anyone threw. 

Something I didn't usually see coming from her. 

When I was about to leave the classroom that evening, in which everyone had left couple of minutes before, she appeared at the doorway. I stopped and was caught off-guard. I thought she left for home given her bag was nowhere to be found on her seat. She paused for a while, and she looked at me for a solid two minutes. I noticed the very same notebook she had been writing down on all day on her left hand. 

"What?" Was the first thing that escaped my mouth when the girl was still standing stiff in front of me. She then smiled, yet she didn't look like she wanted to smile. But for some reason, that was the brightest smile I'd ever received from her. She showed her palm to me, as a sign for me to wait for her. The girl then hurriedly made her way towards her seat, grabbed her belongings under her desk and went back at me. 

"Let's go." 

"Where to?" I asked. Somehow, I was nervous. It had been over a month since we last hang out together. 

She looked up, her gaze met mine. "Just follow me, bestie. You must hadn't hang out for a month, had you?" The synical smile she gave me kind of pissed me off, and so when she walked ahead of me, I quickly went after her, whining. "No. I hang out with the other guys, I have friends too, you know."

"Oh you do?" 

"Of course I do, I'm not like you."

"That's for sure, you're not pretty like me." 

As we were arguing, I caught myself smiling as I realized a thing the moment she looked up to me earlier and asked me to follow her.

I grew taller than her.