Since, A Novel

xii. LIGHT IS THE ONLY THING CAPABLE OF FORGIVING

          "I'm Ara."
          "Cool," Nianne complimented. "Is that a nickname
          or . . . ?"

          "Lunara de Haan," Ara averted her head a little to the side.

          "That's pretty," was Nianne's reply, nodding. "But I'm gonna start calling you Ara. You can call me Nin, or Ninny. The boys made the other one, though; if you ask me, it's honestly annoying. Juno's gf broke up with him the other day when she found out about the nickname, saying 'what's with the nickname!' 'is that why you're not replying to me?!' and all that," Nin smirked, exaggerating the lines in a whisper. "It was crazy—"
          "Yeah, I said no gossip."
          "Fine, fine!" laughing, she lightly hit Ara's shoulder. "I'm sure they're gonna get back together again; on and off ass relationship," she mumbled. "Do you wanna know whose seat is that?"

     Ara didn't reply, instead she began sketching on the blank page at the back of the mathematics book, letting Nianne's voice become a background noise of her brown study. She had figured out along the way—Nianne's complaints about the teaching style of the new professor, her complaints about fellow mates who were non-vegan, her complaints about someone complaining about the same complaints as her—that the girl wasn't going to stop no matter how firmly she showed Nin of her dispassion regarding anything of the sort (because Ara didn't actually tell her to stop, but she also didn't exactly listen to her protest about the most ambiguous things).

     And Ara could not identify whether or not it was a civil act; her inability to object or bracket with things that were out of her understanding, or her familiarity; it was not that she was an introvert (she didn't know if she were), and it was definitely not of her nonchalance (to her, maybe it was one of the ways of being careful with what to say and not say, how much of it you wanted to tell or blurt out, how much of yourself you wanted to shroud, or save, or show) but of her impassivity about things that did not (or could not) necessarily move her, or things that could not reach her. Ara did not want that to be her fatal flaw; to be unfit of comprehending and understanding and relating with people. The sore of wanting to be normal and connect with people was cringing the bones in her body.

          "Good morning, class."

     In a second, all the students had hurried and came back to their respective seats, alarmed by the sudden presence of the lecturer. Everything then had retreated into silence.

               In a month, Ara somehow had a newfound comfort in walking with Nianne (whom insisted that they walk together as boys tended to be, most of the time, unbecoming and indecent toward girls—especially the ones who were out of their leagues—with the steadiness of having categorized them into two: ugly and pretty—of course) on their way to the locker room and Ara would be left with no choice but listen to the other girl complain about the inside of her locker smelling and feeling rusty; Nianne: "I've had this locker for what, like a year? And it's been like a roommate for me, and months ago, did you know, I really had high hopes that someone would consider taking off a lizard's eggs in it! Fuck's sake. 'Cause mine had two, and I had to call Trevor to help me get it out—poor boy, who could've known! It made him puke. Well, I just couldn't let my roommate suddenly have a lizard family in it.", or simply Nianne joining Ara in the girl's bathroom even when all she'd do was talk about her ex-boyfriend—to which Ara would be open-mouthed: "An ex-boyfriend?" and Nianne: "Course. Like four of them, anyways,"—in the cubicle while Ara took a piss, said it was better to be with her because she might lose herself trying to find the cafeteria—where Ara met some of Nianne's friends—who were four boys and three girls—introduced to her (some of them had bland reactions to it, and, of course, Ara would notice things like that, little things like: when a person continues to scroll on her phone after you said 'hi' and they reply with a soulless 'hey' like the school had just collapsed, or when a person isn't taking his AirPods off when you try to excuse them for mindlessly staining your socks under the table, which, were all too familiar coming from Ara's house and she definitely wasn't up for the act again). And these things would often come off as perverted and abnormal to her, because how could she act and think (making people her age tolerable) like she had six brothers and six daughters when it fact, she was her mother's only child?