The Ferris Program

Part 4

In Grade 10, when Uka and I were working for the second time as teammates, I suddenly asked her, "I was curious about this, Uka. When we first picked our first impression to choose a team. Was it Naravan to you?"

It was hard to ask her this, but I always knew she liked Naravan, the same boy that I had a crush on. He was the best student in literature, of course, girls liked him.

Uka shyly looked at me, hesitating. "No, my first impression wasn't Naravan at all."

I pushed, "So who?"

Uka didn't answer right away, instead, she looked down at her feet. After a while, she glanced at me, "They were Khaliun, and," she hesitated, "...you."

I was surprised, "Wow, we could choose a girl too? I thought the teacher told us to choose the opposite side of the class."

"I choose the people I have good feelings for. And also, you were the only girl sitting on the opposite block!" Uka tapped my nose.

I sniveled, "I forgot, I didn't notice."

"You dumb," she laughed, "haha, that's cute you never know how attractive you are."

"Ugh, I don't know, but Naravan doesn't find me attractive, also if anyone asks me who is the most beautiful, I will choose you. But the teacher asked me to choose an opposite teammate..."

Uka cupped my face, looking into my eyes tenderly, "I went all-in for you."

I thought she said about our well-founded friendship, so I replied "I'm glad, I would do the same if I knew I could choose a girl for a team."

Come to think of it, Uka must have sent me lots of signals about how she liked me more than a usual friend. However, silly me accidentally friendzoned Uka. Worse, I chased Naravan all the time.

Naravan is a well-known poet now, and I still have a soft spot for a literature smartie. But Uka is nowhere to be found, and I have never heard from her since her confession at UB square.

//

"Yes, I love you on your bad days," The Muslim girl confirms.

"Thank you, I need that affirmation."

"That's your love language?"

"No."

"But mine is, I love words of affirmation," she says.

Uka also loved affirmations, she always tried her best to have our teachers' praise in class. And well Uka was a top student, too, while I was the second.

"Okay, Pocket. I love hugging, seldom does anyone know that. You know, we're Asian. Unfortunately, Asian parents and society don't support touching at all," I state, "the worst part, is I can only hug cats."

"Poor you, do you need a hug now?" she offers.

"You don't have to please people, you know," I say.

"But I want to, even though I'm not touchy-feely," she says.

I know she wants to help me. From her talk so far, I sense that she's kinda distant in real life. A better word: untouchable. Still, she offers a hug now. Aww, that's so kind of her. My heart is fluttering a bit. I have a lot of complex thoughts, and thank-you doesn't seem to be enough for this girl. But, is it appropriate?

"I think it may make you uncomfortable, pocket."

"You're worrying so much, Peanut."

"Overthinking is my superpower," I giggle, "and I don't have much bravery sadly."

She thought a bit, "Uhm, I imagine you're braver."

I have a train of thoughts in my head. What if the Ferris program ends and I can't find this girl again. Or, will I be brave enough to go with her out of this program?

I stand up, coaxing her straight up and hugging her. Just now I noticed she's a bit shorter. And she's not really the most attractive girl in town, but she's kind. And I fall for kindness.

"You're warm," I comment.

"So are you, like cats."

"Have you had any?" I ask, sniffing her hair. Okay, again, she hides her hair under a hijab, no way I know what her hair smells like. But her aroma is nice, like flowers.

She snorts, "Come on, I'm a mama of 8 cats."

"Don't say you're also allergic to cats," I reply.

"H-How?" she stutters.

"How do I know that? Easy, because you're allergic to everything you love," I say, patting her head through a layer of fabric. "I know your code of love language - we can invent it instead of only 5 basic love languages. Now in your case, allergy!"

"Hahah, allergy is my love language?" she chuckles, "but I told you the truth, I'm allergic to those, for real. And yes, I'm allergic to cat fur. I just can't resist their cuteness."

I look at her with my eyes twinkling, "I'm cute too, you said so." Lowkey means you can't resist me.

She looks away, I go numb. Now that's a shift in her mood, I can feel it. I'm afraid.

"Hey, look at me," I say. Maybe she doesn't like to be flirted with, I think, so I should step back.

So I do as I think. I take a step back, letting her go.

"I beg you," I attempt to say.

I wait. Finally, she looks straight at me.

She opens her mouth to say something, but that's too low I can't hear clearly.

Suddenly, the Ferris Wheel gives us an announcement, more like a warning.

FIRST REMINDER: DON'T TELL NAMES. EVEN WHEN YOUR TIME IS NEARLY OVER.

Is the Muslim girl trying to tell me her real name, so Ferris warned her? That's why she's afraid?

I look around, seeing the dark fall on the scene. Time flies fast, I'm not aware it's evening already. Shaar, balloon, it's that late?

//

A/N:

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