To Express Happiness || Fayne ✔✔

Late For Class! ⌚

''Not again!''

Biting his nails, Aaron looks outside his car window. He sees the usual : people rushing like the daylight, the cacophony of the car horns and obviously, the constant 'ting' on his phone as his mother texts ' Are you there yet?' . Texts. He hates them more than he hates his phone. He hates his phone more than he hates the world.  Seriously, who uses button phones these days? Being a student with straight As, reaching his class in time acts like a stern obligation, and he fails in it for the third time this week. 

But does he care? He flicks his hair back, releasing his feet from his worn-out sneakers, enjoying things flowing past him in the window. It seems like a time waste, so he digs into his bag for a textbook and pulls one out. He feels like a cartoon: studying, in the car, even when there's no test scheduled ; but at the same time, Aaron cannot waste time;  but hey, the world outside is so beautiful! However, how can you think of wasting 40 minutes in a space of 24 hours just by staring outside the window? 

Confused, Aaron opens the window and takes a deep breath, eyes closed. The pages fold and flicker with the as he hears them, exhaling shakily as he feels the moisture of unwanted tears in his eyes, and finally opens them as his car comes to a stop. He wipes his face with his bare hands, wipes his eyes a little more harder. This never happened.

He never opened the door this loud. The squeaking of his sneakers sounds  louder; so annoying that everyone shoots either a detesting or a blank glance at him. He is (damn) good at hiding, and he knows it, so he cracks a (fake) half-smile that lifts his flushed cheeks.  He settles in the desk, takes out that same textbook , with a dozen pens, an immaculate pencil and even a calculator. The sight of the textbook makes him have a silent gasp, lucky that it goes unnoticed. A deep breath, a pen uncapped, legs stretched and eyes wide : he's ready. 

Just then, it happened. He was so drowned in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the food on the teacher's table. His head started spinning. Damn his schedule. Couldn't spare a minute to grab a bite. ''Students. Pardon me for not giving you an appropriate 'hello' before your journey to the world of economics began between these very four walls. Hence this treat!''. The rest of what Mr. Nestor said clearly didn't fill his belly. He drew weird, injured marks with his pen, sometimes going in circles...sometimes a lengthy cross. He has to come out of it. Make his body and mind stay at the same page. He dropped his pen with his hands trembling fiercely as this was his turn to take the packet. Opening it, he found utopia inside a wrapper. Without picking up the pen, he grabbed the chicken wing and munched it like a shark, with some wrapping paper going along with the food. Scores are settled. Line is drawn. We live happily ever after....

...only when he hears a loud smirk beside him. ''You sure are hungry'' she said, with one killer smile, and the line splits into two parallel lines, only to meet at infinity.