Our Symphonies | satosere

3 ;

「 three 」

"Gee, I'm sorry for you"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

My perfectly brushed hair were a Vulture's nest by the time we reached the uphill road, one that'll take us to my school.

Hopping off her cycle, oh my bad, Mango, May placed both hands on her hips, her narrow eyes examining the upward slope with contemplation.

"This slope is nothing as compared to the ones I've trekked before! A smol piece of cake if you ask me." She announced with an overdose of confidence before tightening the bandana tying her hair, a smirk on her pinkish lips. I still think that walking would've been better than this.

Not wanting to argue with her anymore, I rolled my eyes for the nth time. "Just make it quick."

She dismissively showed me a hand that spoke 'Leave it to me' before sitting back on her seat - cushioned saddle might I add - totally unlike the fricking carrier where my bum was having Vietnam flashbacks.

With a reassuring side look, she began pedaling up the hill; and in contrast to what I had expected, we didn't go plummeting down because her movements were actually quite stable and very rapid. She was standing on the pedals to apply more force, pushing them in quick courses as we ascended the inclination.

The locks of my hair danced with the vigorous blows of wind and I shut my eyes to rejoice the ride, pushing all my arguments in the back of my head and almost forgetting with whom I was and- where I was.

It often happened with me. Like even though I'd always choose logical reasonings over making senseless fantasies all day all night, sometimes when I'm in my zone I just lose track of time and diffuse in my own world of questionable things.

I mean, no one can ever imagine that a nobody-girl, me, in faded denim all-overs and dirty blonde hair who doesn't bother to say a word in class can think of such weird stuffs: Why's the water wet? Can we actually try drinking Cola over Mentos? Aren't pancakes and waffles technically the same thing but just cooked differently?

But considering it rude to stay quiet while sitting behind this chic, I did an eyeroll, deciding to spark a topic - like literally anything - to chat on.

"So, um," I began as she cycled on, and with my eyes tightly sealed, I said whatever popped in my head that moment. "You like Jazz?"

So that's what they call eloquence. (Note it down as a word of the day, you're welcome.) Well, to be honest, this chatterbox of a girl should be thankful that I was talking to her. Must've been a privilege, no?

I noticed her shoulders shaking with laughter which got me startled for a sec. "So you're one of the memelord types." Clicking her tounge she added, "Noice."

Holdup. "But that's not it -"

"It's alright hon! We've all got our own bunch of secrets now do we not?" She interrupted with an airy voice, and before I could deny, she put the brakes on. We had arrived at the school building already?

Mumbling a 'well, shoot', I swung my leg and leaped off Mango, almost tangling my feet in the chain before gaining balance and standing straight on my feet with a tight smile.

"Thanks for the lift." I spoke with immediacy, shifting weight between feet as I stared at my Belle's.

"Oh it's all gravy! You're very welcome." She coolly flapped the hand that wasn't on the handle, her smile intact.