Theory of Romanticism

Prologue: What Even Is Highschool Love?

I hate highschool.

That's a sentiment shared by a lot of people in it. Though, it's completely fair.

You're going through your worst years in puberty in the single most hostile environment of your life as a teenager, why wouldn't you hate this?

Some people can soften the blow by falling in love but I don't have a guy who I fell for in high school. In fact, I have the opposite, I have a guy I hope fails so I can finally beat him.

I'm Kiera and that's Lucas, my classmate. He's the biggest hinder to me being the top of my class. Where I beat him in Oral Communications he fires back with a larger shot in Chemistry. I'm weak in the subjects he dominates and I dominate the subjects where he's weak... he's the roadblock in my path to the top.

I stare him down and--

"Hey what's up."

sigh

This is Jenny, my best friend. "You're staring at Lucas again, you totally have a thing for him."

"I do not!"

"Even if you deny it, it's hard to believe you. He's your exact type."

"No, he isn't."

"You sure?" She smirked, "Tall, plays music, is literally the guy who helps you at the subjects you struggle with, he's a nice guy." She continued, "Also he's cute."

"It sounds more like you're the one that's into him." I teased.

"No." She said confidently, "Don't deny it, girl! It's lunch and you're staring at a guy at a different table who's just talking with his friends, that's classic romance!"

"Wake up to reality, Jen. We don't live in a RomCom."

"I'm just saying..."

"Ugh!!" I groaned before continuing to eat.

When lunch ended, everyone shuffled out the cafeteria and back into our rooms. The next subject is Philosophy, the one subject where we're on equal ground. The worse part? We sit next to each other for this subject. It's a literal race to answer first.

Now before I continue, you might think I hate this guy. I don't. He's honestly a nice guy. I like talking to him and he doesn't make me uncomfortable. We're rivals so in the context of academics, I want him to fail. Okay? Okay. Back to the thing.

The teacher walked into the room. Ms. Lucy Torres is a kind teacher. She doesn't yell at the class and often plays along with jokes, we've never seen her bad side.

The lesson today was... goddammit. Rene Descartes. Lucas knows an ungodly amount of information on this... I'm gonna get smoked.

She asked a question to the class, "What was Rene Descartes' central philosophy--"

She was abruptly interrupted by the sound of hands, including mine, being raised.

"--in Latin."

Our hands slowly dropped, who the hell speaks Latin?

Wait- why is Lucas' hand still raised?

She called his name, "Cogito Ergo Sum, Ms." He said proudly, "Which translates to I think, therefore I am."

"Plus points if you can explain it."

He didn't let the grumbling of the class knock him out of his element. He stood confidently in front of his chair and started speaking.

"He stated that simply believing one's own existence is good enough reason to believe that he is real." He said, "In short, I think I'm real, therefore I'm real."