Circumspect [BoyXBoy]

Chapter Four

I arrive just before Ms. Juve enters the room. I pant my way to my seat, and with a last deep breath, I pretend everything's normal.

We greet Ms. Juve as always, and because this is our first day, we're basically given a free day before meeting hell.

We sat down, and I notice the seat next to me was empty.

I would have looked for my seatmate, but I didn't care enough to actually be concerned for his safety.

After a couple of games, which I detested to take part in, Ms. Juve announced another game. A game where a rubber ball was passed while music is played, and when the music stops, the person holding the ball would have to do a consequence.

Not my type of game, but things get serious. I never wanted to go up in front, doing a pathetic dance to make me look bad, to embarrass myself publicly. So I put my awareness on high once the teacher plays a tune.

The ball starts in front, getting passed as quickly as possible. Everybody sings along, laughing when someone blunders and drops the ball, picking it up quickly, not wanting the same sad fate that awaits everyone of us.

The tune stops abruptly, the ball in someone's hands. Everyone cheers in relief that they weren't the unfortunate one.

I look at the unlucky one. Sylvest-err-Spencer. I keep forgetting that person's name.

I chuckle quietly, laughing at his misfortune. Dares were thrown around the room, 'Sing this' or 'Dance to this song'.

"So, what will it be?" Ms. Juve asked him, tilting her head to the side, a smile on her face.

Spencer pondered for a moment, and finally made his decision. "I guess I'll just dance." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. The class erupted in cheers.

He pulled out his music player, connecting it to the speaker. He walked to the center of the class, breathing slowly, preparing.

His body moved as the bass dropped, arms and legs moving to the surges and vibrations of the song. His joints pop in sync with the beat, making a rhythmic sensation to the audience. He moves fast, keeping the pace with the song.

The whole class is awed by the spectacle he performs. Even I was. I watched carefully, and I felt as if time slowed down, making his movements clearer to my vision. I watch as his body sways. I feel as though I was in a trance, hypnotized by his every step and turn.

I stare into his passionate eyes, his dedication into mastering the art of dance. Even if it is only breakdancing, I could see he put a lot of effort in it.

He opened his eyes, his gaze focused on me, emotions swirl inside me. The same butterflies, the same goosebumps, the same chills, the same warm sensation. His mouth tugged at one end, teeth biting into his lip. It feels like I'm falling for someone, all over again.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he lands his final move. The class once again cheers for him. Ms. Juve cheers as well, certainly pleased with the performance.

"You should try out for the dance club here. I was impressed by your execution. Also, you should compete in the talent show when it comes. You might win a prize." Ms. Juve said, patting his back. "You can take your seat now. Now let's continue on with the game shall we?"

High fives and fist bumps were raised as he walked back to his seat. He's so talented. I'm so envious of him. He's already got this handsome face, and now he's got talent in dancing. Why can't I be as good as him?

I giggle inside, thinking of my performances and concerts in the bathroom. I sing and dance in the shower with my very, very, very amazing voice and moves. Not a bit sarcasm in that, eh? I think the mirror cracked once. Or maybe it's just me.

The game played on, and I safely maneuver out of the danger zone when the ball passes. My ball passing skills are just that awesome.

The bell rang quickly, and Ms. Juve dismissed us for lunch break.

Crowds of students pass me, going to their own meeting places. Some the cafeteria, some the library, some roam around the halls.

It was suffocating to be surrounded by this many people in this environment, but I found solace in it. I just needed to tune out the unnecessary distractions and focus on nature itself.

I take in the scenery, the round hills with small houses and neighborhoods out in the open, the green forests brimming with wildlife down below, the slight cracks in the buildings due to old age.

In this world that never stops, you'll learn how to be in comfort amidst the endless movement and talking. You'll find peace in a busy place, you'll find silence in a room full of chatters, you'll be still while everyone is moving.

I see the familiar leaves of the same branches from the same tree. Down below, Bailey wasn't there yet. Neither was Jill or Jamie.

I sat down on one of the benches, putting my things down on the table. I pull out my journal and an ink pen, and open the black cover revealing blank beige canvasses.

I bought this journal on freshman year by mistake. I had intended to buy one for reminders, note taking, and for jotting down quick thoughts, but when I opened it, it was blank, no lines for writing, just blank pages. A small sketchbook if you will, just the size of a teenager's hand.

But instead of using it for what I had intended it for, I began drawing scribbles at first, doodling to pass time in class. I draw my favorite characters, superheroes, animals, and sometimes, I draw quick sketches of people, objects, or sceneries I see or pass by.

It all starts with a line, then to a pair of keen eyes, gaze fixated as if piercing through you like an arrow. The facial features came next, a sharp-angled nose, tender lips in a smirk, a pair of cute small ears. Then a wide square jaw, leading to a neck succulent to a vampire, tousled hair shaded black with the ink.

It turned out to be Spencer. The last person on my mind.

I take a good look at the drawing, not bad. Not bad at all. I didn't take any art classes when I was young, I just liked to draw. I shuffled at my previous works, seeing a bunch of portraits of people and animals, landscapes and sceneries.

I stay still on one page. A portrait of Kean from 8th grade. He looks to the side, calm and tranquil. This was on a day when the teacher was absent and we were given a free period. He just stared out the window, I was bewildered by the moment, I just had to take it down. As if he knew what I was doing, using that exact moment as a reference, he stayed still. The exact same posed until I finished.

I always look back at it, even for several minutes at times.

I sigh deeply. Can I go back to that time?

I put back the journal and the pen safely in my bag. It's now worth more than what I bought it for, filled with memories that I can never get back if I lose it.

I look at the watch on my wrist, half past lunch. It seems like Jamie and the others had something else to do. I sat in silence, quietly playing songs inside my head.

I hum to the rhythm, closing my eyes, swaying my body side to side, relaxing in the cold breeze.

"Um," A voice breaks my thoughts, "Would you mind if I sit here?"