The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

12 : Chaos

Kimberly

For the first time ever, I'm looking forward to PE class. But before that, I have to survive the first and second periods in the afternoon, Calculus and History.

It's our lunch break. I'm in the classroom, trying to finish solving a word problem from our Calculus textbook. It's a bit noisy inside because of those in the back. And I'm also trying my best not to get distracted by them.

Just when I'm about to underline my final answer, a piece of crumpled paper drops on my desk. The thing in the shape of a ball slightly misses my pen, which I assume is the target, considering its trajectory originates from the back corner of the room, where Mary Elizabeth and three of her friends, including Carlo—who doesn't belong to this section—are at.

The piece of trash lands on the floor at the exact time someone who just enters the room approaches that very spot. Benjamin quickly picks it up and throws it back to where it came from. Carlo misses the catch by a meter, at least.

"You better start practicing your catch," Benjamin's deep voice fills the room. "Next time you throw something in this direction, I'll make sure it lands back at you."

"Trash belongs with trash," snaps Mary Elizabeth.

"And the trash can is literally right beside you," he snaps back. There's a sharp edge in his voice that I heard of just now. Then he turns around, opens his bag, takes out a notebook, and quietly sits down on his chair.

I focus back on the Calculus problem.

"You're a killjoy, Benjamin," I hear someone says from the back of the room.

This is what I fear more than what these people can still do to me, getting someone else involved. And it has to be him, of all people. It's not just that he spoke out, it's also the way he said those words. Like he means them or that they matter, and like it's a threat. If he keeps on doing that, it's only a matter of time before our classmates pick it up and start involving him. But I can't just tell someone what not to do. If Benjamin wants to say something to these people, he's free to do so. Also, I can't deny how good it feels, knowing that somebody is standing up for me. However, it should have been better if someone is standing up for me with me. Why can't I just stand up for myself? Why do I have to be this awkward?

I still don't get why they're fixated on hating me. I didn't get them in trouble; they got themselves in trouble. And they're not even harshly punished. They weren't suspended, at least from what I heard. And that's because it's almost twenty percent of the whole batch that got involved in that thing they recently did. They're just given some hours of community service as punishment. It's not that bad, I think.

I was wrong to anticipate PE earlier.

Yes, we're still doing the waltz. And yes, Benjamin is my partner. But my head is not here right now, so my motor coordination is also not at its finest. I miss a step and almost lose my balance. But his reflex is quick and catches me before I mortify myself any further. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks as we go back into position and follow the rest of the class as we continue waltzing to the music.

One, two, three, four... One, two, three, four...

"Are you okay?" he asks after we stop.

I nod in response before looking away from those dreamy caramel eyes. And I watch as Miss Ramos walks back to the front of the gym.

I consciously distance myself from the rest of the class as we head to our classroom. But I feel that one of them is trailing me, so I walk faster and take a detour. I have this feeling that I want to be by myself right now.