Philophobia

開始

1.0 s t a r t

7.47a.m.

"So you just ended it?" quizzes Bronwyn.

"Yes, Bron, for the thousandth time. I ended it. How many more times are you going to ask?" I groan while slamming my locker.

Bron is my best friend. We've known each other since we were divas in diapers because our moms were best friends. They met in high school doing a project and immediately clicked. Since then, their bond has never broken. They still had occasional weird gossip sessions and went shopping together every week. Whoever said high school friendship never lasted, was clearly wrong. I mean, they bought a house next to each other. Friendship can't get any stronger than that.

Following our mothers' footsteps, Bron and I ended up really close as well. In a lot of ways, the both of us were really alike. We loved and hated the same things. The way we thought of things were very, if not extremely similar. On the other hand, the only way you can tell us apart was while she was open to affection and love, I was not. And usually, even though she accepted that this was who I was, she didn't fully understand it either.

"But I thought things were going okay? What happened?" she asks, leaning on the locker beside mine. She obviously is not willing to believe that it just did not work out.

"It was okay. Then it wasn't. That's it," I say as I roll my eyes. "What about you? How did your little summer romance go?"

"Keyword. Summer. It's fall now. Hence, it's over." she smiles, as if trying to pretend like nothing happened. If I wasn't her best friend, I would have settled for that answer. But I know better, so I smirk in response.

"Technically, fall hasn't really arrived yet. It's definitely still too hot to be fall."

"Well, it's too cold to be summer too." She retorts with a glare because she knows what I'm doing.

I'm trying to fish the truth out of her, but she won't budge. Bron was always like this. She loved keeping her life to herself. Best friend or not, she was secretive with everyone. The only reason why I didn't really mind was because I know she would tell me sooner or later.

Instead of pushing it further, I tell her it's time for the first class of the school year, wish her good luck then we part ways. Unfortunately, my class was on the complete opposite side of the campus, which sucked big time because then if we were to have an existential crisis, we would have to walk all the way to the other side. And that was way too much work.

Walking into the classroom, I was greeted with hello's and cat calls and whispers and laughter and digital beeping tones. In general, the typical 21st century teenage life. Girls were sitting on tables, leaning towards their friend's ear with a hand cowering the side of their mouth, gossiping I suppose. Guys sat at the back of the class just staring at the atmosphere and occasionally piping up when they had something to say.

"Deckard!" My ears perk up when someone calls my name and I already know who it is.

"Jax!" I squeal while he runs towards me. It's been too long since I've talked to him. Jax, short for Jackson, is one of my closest friends, practically a younger brother. I constantly had to get him out of trouble.

He was tall, pale, and wore glasses. His long arms and legs were boney and awkward. But don't let that fool you. He might look like a nerd and have a geeky obsession for comic books, he was great at sports too. He loved cross country running and basketball. Just the right amount of contrast. I guess girls love how adorable and dorky he is, because he is a complete womanizer. Besides that, females also fawn over his long blonde beach boy hair that is nearly shoulder length. Despite the countless times his dad bribed him to go for a trim, he refused to let a pair of scissors go near his hair. He was just that protective over it.