Staccato

Depth as Deep Woods

~*~

October 28, 2014.

It's Monday.

I have never given you a glimpse of how a day in school is like for me, have I?

When we were little, the teachers were the ones who gave us a somewhat special treatment. When we were little, so were our classmates, and none grasped the gravity of the fact that it is Stephen Williams's kids sitting right in the midst of them.

As we grew up, some of it died down due to familiarity if nothing else. 

But the star-struck adoration never stopped, not really.

Get into the car with Laurie (and sometimes, Les; mostly she likes to go with David, which ends up with David, too, getting the security that is meant for Les. David likes to call it 'annoyance by association'), get driven to school, get ogled at by others despite the years of the same thing happening - guards stepping out, all in black, from cars before and behind us, as we step out of ours and enter the school and try not to feel discomfited by the stares.

Trinity is a school for the uber rich, so it's not just because we are rich that we get stared at. It's because of our dad.

It might sound ridiculously conceited were someone else to say it, but when it comes to our dad, it's simply a fact - that our dad and his associates are the ones who shaped the world as it is today.

Leon and Louie swear that it's because of our good looks that we get ogled at so much. Laurie likes to be more modest and conclude that it's definitely because of our dad. Nothing because of what we achieved.

"Nothing because of what you achieved?" We're sitting having lunch in the cafeteria, and that's Joshua Kwon, the same who had accompanied Efrim to British Informatics Olympiad.

He is my best friend, as are Jake Hummel, and Quinn Forstner, and Alex Bechkam (whose older brother, Niles, is Leon and Louie's best friend, having been in the same academic year as my twin brothers).

They are the ones we sit with everyday in the cafeteria. They are the ones who would come over to our place when we were kids (unlike a certain someone who never turned up, until two days ago), and the ones at whose places me and Laurie would sometimes crash, and the ones with whom we have gone for numerous vacations. Just the ones with whom we laugh and have each other's backs for and love spending time with.

"Dude, you're the highest scoring student, what the hell are you talking about?" Josh asks me, quite harried and offended.

I shrug. I'm morose.

I don't think you'll be surprised if you hear why I am morose.

Or perhaps you will be.

It's because Efrim did not turn up to school today.

Yes, I'm an idiot to base my mood on his presence.

We are currently talking about the fact that I got selected by our homeroom teacher Mr. Anderson (the same who got treated to one of Efrim's spectacular cold-shouldering when he congratulated him for winning gold medal in the Olympiad) to represent Trinity in the Ivy League School Physics Association. Which means I'll have to occasionally write articles and try to report the latest developments in physics that are relatively unknown to people (and hope that the other Ivy League School represents don't stumble on the same developments as me). It's one of those slightly pesky things that your teacher assigns you because you get good grades and are kind of popular.

"Wait for him to say 'oh, but it's not as good as what Efrim does,'" my sister says in a high-pitched mocking voice.

I swear to god, she has only amped her efforts to make me feel stupid after that little fainting spell of mine two days ago.