Bookworm & Biker [ENG]

05-Mia Lowson

Olivia and I are walking down the crowded school hallway, filled with students hurrying to their classes. The floor is covered in old, communist-era tiles, the walls are marred with damaged plaster, and the ceiling is adorned with old, dangling lights. I’ve learned to ignore it, but I can’t understand why no one has done anything about it.

"Hey, would you sign this? We want to have a Valentine’s dance at our school," said a petite brunette in a black mini skirt, colorful crop top, and bold eyeliner accentuating her gray eyes. Olivia grabbed the paper and signed without hesitation. I scan the paper with my eyes, debating whether to join.

"I'm not sure." Olivia gave me a wide-eyed look. "No, you’re not unsure. Sign it. It’ll be fun." Elery handed me a pen, but I still wasn't sure if I wanted to sign. What if it happens again? What if someone tries to assault me there? Olivia grabbed my hand, but I yanked it back. "Sign it!" "Don’t pressure me, okay?! I... I can’t sign it." I returned the paper to a surprised Elery. "Mia, please, you’re a key person," Elery pleaded with praying hands. "No." I turned to leave. Me, a key person? I doubt anyone at this school even knows I exist without Olivia by my side.

At the end of the hall, I turned into classroom 213 and took a seat in the math room, where a lecture on improving relationships was about to begin. I waved at Olivia, who waved back and sat next to Elery. What the hell? Fine. I can't act jealous. Maybe they’re just discussing the dance. Watching them, they look like a good duo. They share the same goal. Elery leaned closer to Olivia. They’re even similar in height. Why do I keep staring at them?

The seat next to me was taken by Daisy, who was picking her nose and eating what she found. My stomach turned, and I looked away.

During the lecture, I couldn’t concentrate because my eyes kept drifting to Olivia and Elery in the middle row, chatting and laughing together, frequently interrupting the lecturer. Maybe it’s because I didn’t sign the Valentine’s dance petition. But it’s not my fault that Olivia doesn’t understand. She thinks it’s easy to overcome trauma. She doesn’t know what it’s like to lose a father. It happened two years ago, but it still feels fresh and painful. I blinked away tears and tried to focus on the lecture.

The lecturer, in a white shirt and jacket that made him look bulkier, with a thin neck and prominent Adam's apple, wore a blue tie. He held a pen in his hands as he paced back and forth. From a distance, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I tried to follow his movements. "If you take nothing else from this lecture, remember one thing: good relationships are built with a smile, not too long eye contact, and a brief touch." He moved from left to right. "Why a smile? Think about the last time someone passed by you and just smiled. How did that make you feel?" I reflected on this.

I remembered being fifteen and cursing my parents for everything. I hated them until my father went to prison. He got four years, leaving me and my mom alone. I was drowning in thoughts, unable to see light at the end of the tunnel, until I entered the library where the librarian smiled at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. That made me feel welcome, turning the library into my sanctuary and escape to another world.

"Why not too long eye contact?" He straightened and gripped his pen. "Because the longer you stare at someone, the more uncomfortable it gets. How would you feel if I never looked at any of you and just stared at the ground?" I laughed when he demonstrated. He’s right. It’s not pleasant. After a while, he resumed eye contact. "It’s not great. Now, the last point is a brief touch. You might think it’s insignificant, but I assure you, human touch is crucial because it creates an immediate connection. You just have to sense when it’s the right time. Now, I’m mainly addressing the girls," he paused, and I knew where this was heading. "Raise your hands if you’ve experienced prolonged eye contact or uncomfortable touches from a guy." If I raise my hand, what if I’m the only one? I felt Colin’s touch and that guy who touched my hips. I closed my eyes.

I was jolted awake by shuffling, and my gaze settled on Olivia and Elery standing up.

What the hell is she doing? She’s never been harassed. If she had, I would know. The lecturer approached her. "Thank you, girls. May I ask your story?" He handed Olivia the microphone. She took it and stood before the lecturer, who stepped aside to give her space. I didn’t understand what she was doing until her eyes met mine. I shook my head, but she smiled and winked at me.

"My dear classmates," she pointed to Elery, who joined her, "we want to revive the Valentine’s dance." She glanced at the lecturer, who whispered something to her before she and Elery sat down. "Does anyone have anything to say?" His gaze landed on me. I looked away. I don’t want to admit anything. I don’t want to share my story as an example for everyone. What if I’m just making a big deal out of it?

"Okay. You’re dismissed. Remember, a smile, eye contact, and a touch." He started packing up, and Olivia and Elery stood again, handing out papers and pens to everyone. The room filled with the sound of papers and students talking about the dance.

I’m not surprised Olivia sides with Elery. She seized a good opportunity. I find it disrespectful to the lecturer. I saw the anger in his eyes as he tried to keep it under control when he approached her. I took out my phone and walked outside.

The hallway was emptier and quieter than my mind, filled with painful memories of my father. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to the club. I’d definitely have a different mindset now. I wouldn’t fear men, I’d go out and have fun. I’d spend less time in books and more in reality, which I’m not ready to face yet.

I sat on a wooden chair in our classroom, a place I hate as much as these surroundings. Fortunately, my class is all girls, so I feel safer. I turned on my phone and opened the Wattpad app, where I read other people’s stories. I love reading others' stories. It’s a great app where authors and readers come together as a community. I don’t understand people who criticize it. Everyone starts somewhere. But I prefer to stay in the shadows.