5 Days of Summer

Chapter 25: Friday

Novie's POV

My neck and shoulders feel like there's a boulder sitting on it. I sit straight to ease the pain but end up slouching again. Yawning for the nth time, I get up from my chair and saying goodbye to Mrs. Cherry, I walk out of the library.

The sun's piercing rays, burning through my skin and blinding me for a moment, greets me when I step outside. I squint my eyes, covering the star with my hand while looking at the sky. I know it's weird; why would I look at the sun when I know it's hurting me? But then again, we humans are a masochist — we love to embrace what's causing us pain when we have the choice to walk away from it.

It was already lunchtime, so I went to my father's classroom and waited patiently outside. Why do teachers love to go overtime? I mean, they don't get paid even if they'll work their butts off beyond the working hours.

My soul jumps for joy when the students start walking towards the door, gossiping about the event tonight. Girls squealing and whispering with each other and giggle as they push one another. One student is asking her friend what she's going to wear tonight, which reminds me I don't have any formal dresses with me!

Why am I so stupid? I have three days to buy a dress, and yet I completely forgot; this is what I get for ogling too much with those boys!

Perhaps I can improvise? I'm not a student here, so maybe they'll let it pass? Who am I kidding! I'll stick out like a sore thumb.

I stop from pacing back and forth - which I didn't realize I was already doing. Why am I acting like this? Is this another dress to impress dilemma?

Dad finally got out of his classroom and, giving me his car keys and the books he used to, and asks me to head first to the car since he's going to the main building to log out.

"Hey, Noob!" Justin shouts as he jogs towards me and ruffling my hair. Does he know how hard it is to comb my hair? I hit him with my dad's books, making him wince in the process but eventually let out a hearty laugh. "Seriously, why do girls get so annoyed when we ruffle your hair?" He looks so curious, his forefinger placed on his chin as if he was thinking why. I roll my eyes and walk past him; he runs to catch up and shares his umbrella with me. It took me a long time to tame my hair, and all those efforts wasted because of some guy named Justin Aravesa.

We walk silently together, arms brushing past each other under the shade of the navy blue parasol.

If my ten-year-old self can see me now, she would cry out of jealousy and wish that it was her beside him instead of me. Joke's on you kid!

I look up to see his face; his neatly-combed black student-cut wavy hair, his brown almond-shaped eyes squinting due to the blinding light, his Grecian nose crinkling, and his pinkish lips –

I clear my throat and look on the other side. How come the distance between my dad's building and his car seems so far today?

"You seem quiet," he says as his gaze locks on the view in front of us.

"Wow, thanks for pointing that out," I snort and roll my eyes.

"I kinda miss your bubbly attitude when we were kids," he suddenly blurts out, looking at me, his brown eyes reflecting the light from the sun. It's so pretty! He goes back to staring straight ahead, breaking the spell his eyes have cast on me. "Your noise, your enthusiasm, your gutsy attitude whenever you approach me, your smile..." he trails off and let out a small smile.

"You hate me before — not really hate kind of hate, more like annoyed kind of hate," if only I could slap myself right here right now, I would, but he might think I've finally lost it.