The Way It Was Before

thirteen

Finn had been acting strangely. And I mean, more strangely than him being a serious student and him flinching at every physical contact we accidentally made during lab activities. He suddenly began asking me about books, specifically my favorites, with such eagerness that I couldn't avoid wondering, "If a boy reads your favorite books because you suggested them, does that mean anything?"

I didn't want to assume things, though. For all I knew then, perhaps he was simply taking up a new hobby.

"I didn't know you were into reading, Finn," I said with a curious smile. "No offense, but I have never seen you crack a book open. Not even our textbook."

"Well, I'm not, but..." He seemed to struggle to find an answer. "I want to be into it. I want to start reading anything and make it a habit. It might help me with my grades, and... with the stuff I'm writing right now. I need inspiration on how to do it."

Eyes bugging out, I turned in my seat to look at him. "You're writing? What is it, a story?" I exclaimed in great interest that had him pulling a bit away from me.

Finn shifted his eyes toward the wall; his smile was tinged with bashfulness. "Kind of. I'm writing a couple of songs. For the band. I don't want them to sound lame, so I'm studying how to write through reading. Just like how Eminem studied the dictionary for his rap career."

I nodded. "Have you already written something?"

"Yeah, some of them were... were kept, but most of them were all in the trash." His laughter came out in a quiet, self-conscious huff. "I have a clear idea of what my songs will be about. I just don't know how to write them and make the lines sound good together, you know?"

"Uh-huh, I know the struggle," I said. "What are they about? I could recommend you some inspirations."

He opened and closed his mouth as a pinkish color stained his cheeks. "I... uh... no," he replied, shaking his head. "Can't tell you. They're quite personal."

My eyebrows furrowed. "But you're writing them for your band... who will play it eventually. In public."

"I mean, not right now. It's too early. I'll let my ideas mature in my head first."

"Oh, okay. I get that," I said.

"Don't worry. I don't run out of inspiration."

Finn tilted his head to the side and smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that looked simple but meant many things.

──────

I spent lunchtime under the shade of a tree in the courtyard. Before I could celebrate my alone time with my chili cheese burrito, Sunny came over and sat on my bench to say hi.

We hadn't talked much since Finn's party. Not because we had a dispute or a grown dislike toward each other, but because she thought Aislin's insult that night still upset me, and she'd been forming an apology for it.

"It's fine. You don't need to say sorry," I said. I wasn't affected by the insult at all. Aislin had said uncountable mean things over the years that my mind automatically discarded whatever nonsense she spouted.

"I'm doing this on her behalf," Sunny said. "You know Aislin. She usually doesn't make an apology."

It wasn't a job she should shoulder because it was like she was excusing her friend's rudeness, but it appeared she couldn't be at ease if she couldn't get it done.

I smiled to console her. "You're a great friend, Sunny."

"Not sure whether I'm a great good friend or a great bad friend. I care for her and all, but sometimes, I just wanna punch the devil right out of her. What does that make me?"

"Um... a boxer friend?"

She burst into laughter, and all the lines of worry vanished from her face. "That sounds better," she said.

When her laughter subsided, I decided to change the subject. "Congrats, by the way," I started. "I saw the announcement on the bulletin board. You're officially a staff member of the Chronicle. I knew you could make it."

"I was going to tell you that!" she squealed. "That's another reason why I came here."

I laughed. "Excited to get to work?"

"Yup!" She paused. Her bearing became less enthusiastic and more earnest when she added, "Look, if you change your mind about not joining, tell me, okay? They're still looking for writers, and I really, really want you to join because I'm one hundred percent sure you're fit for the role."

"Okay." I smiled appreciatively and started removing the wrapper of my burrito. "Have you had lunch?" I asked and took a bite. It was quite messy, and I struggled to eat it without too much stuff leaking out on one end.

"Not yet, but I have it with me here." She pulled out a large pink lunch bag behind her. She unzipped it and revealed two plastic boxes full of food that had been arranged neatly. Seeing my amazed expression, she said, "I know. It looks like my meal for the entire day. But I have to eat a lot because of my high metabolism."

"Hmm, I see. They look delicious and very healthy," I commented.

"I kinda don't like it, though. The very healthy part. I'm not fond of carrots and onions, but my mom insists I eat them like I'm a five-year-old." Sunny picked up her mayonnaise sandwich and took a massive bite before glancing at me. "Do you want some?"

"Oh, no. Thank you," I said, thinking about her high metabolism. "Won't you go back to your friends?"

She shook her head while munching. "I like it here. Have I ever mentioned I hate crowds just like you do?"

We talked about anything but for a short time, as the bell rang for us to go to our respective classes. That short time was enough for me to understand that Sunny was determined to be liked and well-received by her peers, so much so that she had created a mask to please everyone. And it wasn't until she was alone that she took off that mask and realized there were plenty of friends she could make in the world, but very few would turn out genuine.