The Friendship Contract

One.

These days, I never really got a sense of contentment. There must be something that's waiting for me.

It's the same old routine again. For another year. Get up. Take a shower. Eat breakfast. Leave. Come back. There must be something.

My senior year. Seems like days since I was a freshman, having trouble with this new school called 'Nichimiya East Academy'. It was an international school. I was shocked as to all the faces of unfamiliar people and how diverse this environment was. It lives up to its name, I guess.

So, high school days should've been about drama. And so far, throughout my three high school years, nothing. Sure I've had some friends here and there, but it was merely casual. Of course, you'd think I'd be used to it. This was every single day. My family life wasn't interesting. I'm an average, C student. Not that attractive, but not a cow either. Call me the most average person on earth.

But,

There must be something.

"Ms. Smith!" She screamed from her oh-so-honorable desk. I jolt up, trying to figure out why she sent supersonic sound waves projected at me. Yes, my last name is Smith. Another very, very average last name.

"Yes, ma'am?" I ask, not really caring if she'd get frustrated or not, it won't change this routine anyway. Mrs. Quincemen. Our high-blooded history teacher who teaches us at fourth period on Thursdays and second on Mondays. She also happens to be our homeroom teacher. How lucky we were.

"Would you stop daydreaming and focus on our lesson?" She enunciated once again. I knew that, and to stir up less attention from passerby outside, I just sat down in silence. I said nothing.

"Great. Thank you."
Sarcastic tone. Why was she like this? I didn't talk back anyway. Such a waste of aggression.
'Use your sarcasm to someone who'll actually listen.'

"Excuse me?" She turned back while breaking the long piece of white chalk in her hand.

Oh, I said that out loud.

There must be something.

Once the first four classes faded away, much like how specks of sand falls through the curves of an hourglass, The infamous lunch time came. Normal high school things. You'd have to sit with your group, and kids with high reputations make fun of those who don't get as much attention as them. I, as the average kid, sit with a few people. My 'friends.'

Small talk. Exclusively.

They served a handful platter of apple, broccoli with tuna, and rice. I got a carton of Soy milk by the vending machine around the corner.

"Hey! Vanessa!" A masculine voice seemed to be nearing me, so I look back, and it was Remus.

"Oh, hi." I say as I take another bite of a freshly sliced apple piece. "I was wondering...if you'd like to hang later?" He put his hand behind his head, scratching it softly.
Now this indicated that they felt something for me.
Honestly, I don't get how many heroines in stories or films don't get the hint when people basically shove it into your face. How can someone be so oblivious? 

Well, then again, I didn't notice the librarian falling from a ladder right beside me until people started crowding in on her. But that was last year.

"Um, s-so?" Stutters. He was nervous.

Should I accept? Maybe it'll be fine.

"Okay." A smile was splashed on my face.

"Remus the Doofus! How are you? Still hitting on girls that are totally disgusted by you huh? You haven't changed." The tall captain chuckled, as well as the rest of his squad. I was indifferent. It was all the same.

Remus had been asking me to hang out for a long time, and sometimes I would say no. Sometimes yes. It was routine. There was nothing different about this.

The members of the boys' basketball team made fun of him as well for the past three years. It was normal. It was routine.

But there's something.
Something.

There must be something.

"I'd hate to continue this, I believe this wastes my time." One of the punier members shared. The captain soon lets go of him. Everyone had their eyes locked on the eventful scene.
But it was like watching the same scene from a movie over and over again for the past three years. Slowly I got tired of it. And it doesn't even affect me anymore.

"Oh my god Tequila, are you okay?" One of the intelligent kids approached him, and helped him up.
Fun fact about Remus— he insists that he be called by his second name because his first name was based off a type of alcohol. Much what I'd expect for an alcoholic father to name their second youngest child.

"No. Well, I guess I should say I'm okay but, no I'm really not." He walked away, and I think I saw a small tear on his right eye.

"Don't mind him Vanessa. He'll be fine." One of the girls said to me. I said nothing.

This was the same.

These days, I never really got a sense of contentment.

It's the same old routine again. For another year. Get up. Take a shower. Eat breakfast. Leave. Come back. There must be something.

I believed there was. And then I met them.

There was that something.

☀︎︎