Cevic

Chapter 21

“You don’t know how strong you are until you have to be.”

-Lea Michele-

 

Farewell

 

I had Biology, Art and English for the last few periods. Although learning human subjects was far from being fun, I wanted to treasure every moment of it, even the odd, different scents of different humans, the weird habits of humans of twirling their hair, chewing on their pencil ends, or using their phones under the desk when they thought the teacher was not looking.

  I wanted to treasure the startling blue color of the sky, the clouds that looked edible and reachable, the biting cold wind that blew to my skin, the fluttering snow that piled atop my head and shoulders.

  I wanted to treasure the taste and texture of hard, soft, sweet and bitter granola bar, the bitter taste of coffee that humans seemed to live on like it was a lifeline. I wanted to remember James’s shy smile, soft laughter, the funny caricatures he drew of teachers and the beautiful sketches of trees and flowers and people.

  I wanted to remember the beautiful way humans displayed their emotions for everybody to see, and the beautiful way humans trusted and loved one another endlessly, deeply, and without reason.

  Friendship. Trust. Love. Comradeship.

I paid deep attention during Biology, listening intently to Mrs. Creswell talk science, even though I scarcely made out half of what she was talking about. Even though producing a legible handwriting was virtually next to impossible for me, I tried my best to write as well as possible.  

  I wished there was a way to capture all these moments, every single detail, even the now-familiar crescent-shaped crack on the right wall or the scent of headache-inducing strong perfume that Mrs. Creswell used.

  I was going to miss this darn, smelly and small school.

Damn it.

Grousing about the paint splatters on my fingers, I headed from Art to English class, suspecting there was more paint in my hair, or on my clothes. We’ve been working on digital art the past few days, but we’d suddenly switched to paint. Holding a brush, as I’d foreseen, proved to be more challenging than holding a pencil. 

 “Hey.”

I turned around at the familiar voice. Isha stood at the hallway, holding a couple of books to her chest. She smiled faintly, and closed her locker.

 “Let me guess,” she said, tapping on her chin. “You just came from an Art class.”

I laughed. “Very, very intelligent guess, Miss Reynolds.” Reynolds. I nearly flinched at the surname.

  Isha smiled tightly. “I heard- that today is your last day.”

It would have probably been nosy Rezia. I nodded slowly. “Er, yes. It’s really abrupt. I wanted to tell you, but we didn’t have any class together-“

 “That’s okay.”

After Jackson had given me tips about girls’ complicated minds, I now knew that my offer to take Isha to the movies had made her think that I cared for her in the way James cared for Rezia and vise versa. It was my fault for leading her on.

  I adjusted the strap of my bag. “I just wanted to tell you that…if you felt like I was neglecting you the past few days, I apologize. It wasn’t intended.”