MBTI high school

Chapter 49:

Chapter 49: The New Student

– Me: Can’t I give my turn to someone else?

– Noulanne: No. This chapter is you speaking.

Urgh.

INTP, five years old, already tired and observant and the future Socrates of the planet.

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Today I arrived at school two minutes early. Statistically, that increases my chances of catching people in their natural state—before their mood gets contaminated by the day.

They were both there. ENTJ and a boy I don’t know. They arrived at the same time, which is intriguing. Either they share the same car, or… No, that’s almost certainly it. The boy’s shoes were far too shiny for him to have walked here. I wonder if someone polished them for him.

ENTJ walked straight, as always. His back is straighter than the principal’s. He wasn’t smiling, of course. He never really needs his facial muscles, except to frown.

The new student, on the other hand, was already smiling. Too much. He spoke loudly. He shouted something about “the golden prison” and “freedom.” I filed that away in my head. I’m not sure of the context, but the phrasing seemed important to him.

I sat at my desk in my usual spot, facing the door. Best strategic position. Allows me to observe who enters and who leaves. ENTJ went in first, then the new kid leapt past him like an absurd acrobat, arms outstretched as if he might take flight. He shouted:

– Tadaaaa! The new genius, ENTP, has arrived! Clear space in your brains—I bring innovation!

No one really reacted. Well, except ESTP, who threw a piece of chalk at him, dead center between the eyes. I think it was a test. ENTP dodged it with a nervous laugh, then pointed at ESTP:

– ENTP: You! You—I like you!

He sat down next to him, naturally, as if they’d been friends for ten years. In truth, they’re both five and share the same frequency: that of joyful chaos.

ENTJ, meanwhile, sat as far away as possible. He opened a spiral notebook and began writing. I couldn’t read what he was writing, but I’m almost certain it was a list of survival plans for getting through the day with ENTP in the same room.

ESFP approached him and handed him a drawing. ENTJ accepted it with a “I’ll-toss-this-horrible-thing-later” smile.

The teacher entered. She didn’t get a chance to speak. ENTP stood up and raised his hand as if about to pledge allegiance to the Republic of Fools.

– ENTP: Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m new here. And I have a declaration to make: Marry me.

The teacher blinked slowly, as if trying to reboot her brain. ENTJ didn’t even look up.

I began sketching a mind map in my notebook.

ENTP: spontaneous, theatrical, unpredictable.
ENTJ: calculated, methodical, exasperated.

Conclusion: they’re friends. Probably against their wills.

During recess, I watched ENTP fire absurd questions at everyone about the teacher.

Creepy.

At one point, he asked ISFJ if the teacher was married…

Then he pestered INTJ with ridiculous theories that ducks are green. And he stuck post-it notes on ENTJ’s back: “I am the class AI,” “Friend of the President,” “Warning: brain overheating.” ENTJ didn’t react. Until he simply said:

– ENTJ: You just gave me a brilliant idea for revenge.

ENTP froze. Then he laughed.

– ENTP: I knew I liked you, my little Terminator.

I watched in silence. It was fascinating. They clashed like two contradictory equations, yet their interaction created something balanced. A form of… chaotic stability.

I’ll keep observing. I have a feeling this kindergarten is going to be especially interesting.

For two minutes, ENTP shot me a look and walked over to me, smiling. A long shiver ran down my spine.

Sweet potato. I need to go.