Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Eleven: The Final Assault ~2 Jules

~Jules~

            When Sam got inside of the room, I get this weird tingle over my body.

            I was quite surprised she got here early; there was this part of me telling I probably shouldn’t have stared over the window for too long. Other than the fact I look scary when I stare, Sam may have noticed I was always eyeing on her.

            After greeting her, I had this pang of relief when she smiled at me like she didn’t notice me earlier. My heart beats faster whenever she walks by, and I always run out of words to say to her.

            I wasn’t a stalker, but it’s been a shame for me that I haven’t even talked to her longer than my greetings. Sophomore year and we barely talked with this scenario.

            Me: You’re absent yesterday.

            Sam: I had a fever. Any assignments from yesterday?

            Me: Just algebra. Page fifteen.

            Sam: Thanks!

            And then everything ends even though it hasn’t started yet.

            Before second year ends, I had the confidence to actually tell her she’s beautiful. Not the kind of way street people maliciously says—it was the indirect announcement that I do like her. I like the way her eyes flutter, or how she looks so cute when angry. I’ve seen her cry once, and that was when we were first years—a teacher had expected so much of us she discreetly cried over to Stella after classes. By that time I figured out how much I wanted to talk and comfort her when all she needed was someone to get her up.

            It was junior year when the happiest moment of my life happened. Not that everything started well, though. I remember that high afternoon when all classes are out, and students just stayed on the building for three hours. Miguel, a fellow classmate, had invited Sam over. With my eavesdropping skills, I heard what he asked her.

            “Sam,” Miguel murmured. He sounded like an angel, but he was really nervous. More nervous than I was. “I have something to tell you.”

            When my classmates heard it, they were all enticed and yelling over. Sam was looking at Miguel, who was turning really red. Stanley, my best friend, urged him on.

            “Come on, Sam! It’s fun! The mango has something to say!” Stanley said, grinning.

            Seconds later and Sam comes with him. I indistinctively watch the two of them walk away from the room. Hearing more gossips around, I found out they were heading to the building’s rooftop—where they hold badminton matches.

            For the first time in my life, I’ve never felt being more of a loser.

            Dismissal arrives, and little by little, students came out of the rooms. I stayed on our classroom long enough until it’s only me and Stanley.

            “Are you sure you want to stay here? Everyone’s out already,” Stanley told me. He turns off the air-conditioners, yet cool air still lingers the room seconds later.

            I pretended I was working on today’s Geometry, which had been undeniably easy. But then, it didn’t take Stanley long to realize I was just drawing stick figures at the back of my squared notebook.

            He sets his bag down on his chair, and came to sit on my arm table.

            “Who are you waiting for?” He asked.