Kajji-Tarra

Chapter 4: Class Dismissed

Khathari's POV

Dismissal finally came! Roro and I are usually the last to leave the class since we realign all the chairs.

By now, we'd build up lots of conversations, but today, he's been silent since math.

For now, he's just staring at his essay.

Did I do something wrong?

"Roro?"

No answer.

"Ro?"

Still nothing.

"Nharro?"

He's not talking.

I came closer and hugged him from behind, burying my face behind his back.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

I felt him turn around to me.

I didn't move away or even look at him. I buried my face between his shoulder and neck.

I strongly felt that I did something really wrong.

He hugged me back and ran his fingers through my hair.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I just... have something on my mind."

I looked up at him. His cheeks were burning red.

"You're not feeling well?" I asked while laying my hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

Nharro's face got even redder, and then he grabbed my hand by the wrist.

"Don't do that," he said while looking down and away from me.

He's being rather cold...

Why is he acting like this?

"Uh... so do you wanna play music in the park?" I asked in an attempt to change the topic.

"Y-yeah. Let's go."

We went to his locker, and he took out his guitar.

On our way to the park, things loosened up.

"Tari, sorry about what happened in the classroom. I don't know what got into me."

I gave him a pat on the back and told him it was already forgiven.

That small apology escalated quickly to the level of cactuses.

I have no idea how we got to that convo.

We approached our favorite spot.

It was a peaceful area under a tree with almost no people nearby.

Roro dropped all his things on the ground except his guitar. He placed it gently on the grass like it was a newborn baby.

He really loves that guitar.

I took out a notebook from my bag.

Roro and I made this notebook like our journal. This is our 8th journal since we've been doing these journals since 2nd grade. Basically, we write any of our shared ideas, songs, stories, or in some cases, our individual thoughts are written there for the other to read.

"So new song or old song?" Roro asked while taking his guitar out of its casing.

"I'm in the mood for our old songs," I answered while flipping through the pages of our journal. Roro and I have made lots of songs together.

"How about this song?"

I showed the page to him and pointed to the song, Shoulder.

"Hm... I was thinking more about..." Roro flipped through the pages and pointed at the song, ITWWE.