Roxas's pencil scratches lines and curves on his piece of paper, that was probably from a different class. He does care about his grades.
However, I can't judge him for daydreaming. I, too, love the cosmos.
Rather, I'm chewing on my fingernails, thinking on a better life for Oliver. Me being next to the window doesn't help me with my daydreams. It's worse, in fact. At least Roxas is in the back, and not a window.
And yes, I am using my peripheral vision.
A boom on the desk had me jolting up. I had no idea what was going on till Ms. Jennings opens the box, the big box, and pulls out the pretend babies.
"Settle down guys, here's what's going on." The class settles their rampages singing. They become like gray and blue, actually sitting down. I do not hold grudges to one's excitement, yet, I do not understand how they live like that. To be happy in one's reality.
She pulls out a doll, one with freckles and black hair. Her fingers wrap around the zipper, pulling it down on the baby's back. She pulls out a small circular contraption. Probably a crying machine.
"This is a crying machine." Knew it.
I mentally high-five myself as she continues on. " If it needs food, love, drink it's going to cry. You should do whatever you got to do to keep it from crying, as long as it's with love of course. Papers that you have received yesterday are papers that are for participation grades. It's pretty easy. you put down what food you give it, you put down what time you change its diaper, how many times you change its diaper, how many bottles you give it, and how many times a bottle you give it. Going a little bit down, you'll find a situation question, let's see here, 'how did you handle a crying situation?' as we can see, you'll just put down how you handled a crying situation. "
She takes a breathe, bless her, "Down at the bottom it's more for fun. You get to make up their name, their day with them, describe the clothes that you put on them, and how you did their hair. Any questions?"
Many hands were raised. Ms. Jennings sighs. "At least it is Friday, " She mumbles.
◇◇◇
I made Roxas get up and go get us our baby doll. Just because I made him do it, doesn't mean I was free from his eye rolls and his mean looks. So, he pulls his draw strings, twirling them in between his fingers as he walks his way up to the front, as he should. His back seemed rather warm as it crunched underneath his hoodie. The lines moving as he walked.
There was some goo in my stomach, or at least that's what it felt like.
Probably aggravation.
A baby doll was tossed in my direction. I try to catch it, I lift my hands out, but because of my bad hand eye coordination, I let it fall to the ground. I don't know what's going on. Ms. Jennings is pinching the bridge of her nose. Roxas, slowly walking, is sneakily laughing. Lastly, my stomach's heaved over, my fingers reaching out as I'm leaning towards the baby doll that's a seat diagonal from me.
"At least it's Friday," She mumbles yet again.
"Got it!" I say to Ms. Jennings. "I'm happy for you."
I was hoping he would choose the one with black hair and freckles, but he didn't. That's sad. I really liked that one. Instead, the one that got chosen, the one that Roxas thought was worthy, had long red hair and yellow eyes. "It's giving I slept with your best friend. Try again."
His face went into a snarl as he did not do what I asked him to do. He plops himself into the desk beside me as his defiant self shrugs his shoulders.
