The Space Between Us

ˏˋ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ˎˊ

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 -
𝑤𝑒'𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒.

  WITH ONE PERIOD remaining, I kept glancing at the clock, waiting for 3:00 P.M. The lesson just started five minutes ago, and yet it felt like I've been here for an eternity. The minutes went by at a snail's pace, with each one stretching into an agonizing eternity as I found it hard to focus on the words that came out of Mr. Robinson's mouth, accompanied by the equations he wrote on the board.

The feeling of déjà vu came over me as if I was reliving the same moment from earlier in the day. Just like in History, the minutes dragged on and on, making each one feel longer than the last. I kept shifting in my seat and fiddling with whatever my hands touched as I couldn't sit still with each passing second.

All I wanted was to be at home, locked away in the comforts of my room, and lay in bed for another week without having to worry about the schools' reopening and the work our teachers were mercilessly going to bombard us with.

Was that too much to ask for?

A huff left my mouth as my gaze went down to my notebook. I grabbed a pencil, flipping the book to the next page where I drew a bunch of stickmen having a snowball fight. It was a simple distraction that helped pass the time. As I continued doodling, each stick figure got more detailed with every minute that crawled by. Their tiny stick arms hurled snowballs at each other, and for a second, I could almost feel the cold air again, and picture myself out there with them.

As I was slowly getting lost in my daydream, the sound of the door being knocked on brought me back to reality. I blinked, lifting my head as the door creaked open. Everyone's eyes, including mine, focused on the door rather than Mr. Robinson and watched as a tall figure stepped through the doorway. My eyes widened in shock and my mouth opened agape as I realized who had just walked in.

It was none other than Blaine Connor himself, the star quarterback of our school's football team, one of the most popular guys in school, and also my ex-best friend- of course, he had to make a grand entrance. He raked a hand through his tousled brown hair as he took confident strides into the classroom, his usual smirk plastered on his face as if he hadn't been absent for nearly a week.

Nine-year-old Blaine was never the type to miss a day of school, even when he was sick. I used to tease him about it, calling him a "perfect attendance nerd," and he'd laugh it off, saying something about how he didn't want to fall behind.

But now, times have changed and things were different.

Way different.

Mr. Robinson paused in the middle of writing on the board and turned, clearly irritated. "Blaine Connor," he said, his voice sharp. "Late again, I see."

"Oh, c'mon, Mr. Robinson," Blaine replied nonchalantly, flashing him his signature charming smile. "I didn't realize a few minutes would turn your world upside down. I had some business to handle."

"Just take a seat," Mr. Robinson said, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning back to the board.

Blaine nodded his head and scanned the classroom for an empty seat. Some of the girls flashed him seductive smiles as his gaze lingered on their tables for a moment longer than it should until his eyes briefly shot in my direction. I stiffened in my seat as our eyes met for a moment and tore my gaze away from him, focusing on my notebook and closing my mouth. I continued doodling my stickman figures, trying to get my mind off his sudden appearance.