Growing up in a large, middle-class (if not lower) family had its challenges. More than I can account for actually. I had five older sisters and two older brothers. Throw me into the mix and that's a grand total of eight children living under one ro...
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As the bell rings, signifying the end of third period, I gather my belongings while my English teacher continues to rant about her life. Everyone in my class is trying to get out as fast as they can and I can't blame them. No teenager wants to hear about how difficult it was for a teacher (who's probably older than their parents) to use the bathroom after having a C-section done. Especially not before lunch. "Well, I'll see you all tomorrow then." Mrs. Lim announces.
"She's crazy," a classmate of mine mutters to her friend as soon as they are out of the room. Yup, she sure is. I won't even argue with that.
Making my way over to Peyton's class, which is just across the hall from mine, I peer into the glass window located by the door to find her putting her notebooks away. Students from her class soon pile out and I can do nothing other than stand there and wait patiently for her. When she finally exits the room, we begin to make our way towards the cafeteria. "How was class?" She asks me.
"I got to listen to Mrs. Lim talk about how much of a struggle it was for her to pee when she had a C-section. You?" I answer, not caring if anyone could hear me and think how strange or weird I might sound. It isn't like I was the one who had the C-section done or anything. And plus, Peyton asked me how class was. I'm not going to lie.
"I have a test tomorrow," she huffs and then pouts. God, does she look like a little kid right now. And the fact that she is about a head shorter than me does not help me from treating her like a baby. Of course I laugh when I see her act like that. Next, I sling an arm around her shoulders as we continue to move down the corridor with students streaming towards and away from us. Just as I am about to say something to her, the two of us encounter a familiar face among the sea of bodies. "Oh! Hi Noah!" Peyton beams brightly while she waves her hand excitedly.
"Hey," Noah mutters in the most monotone voice I've ever heard. He doesn't even bother to look at her or wave either as he heads in the opposite direction from us. Wow, that was rather rude. For a second, my brows furrow but then my friend giggles.
"He's still shy." She points out.
"Yeah," I force myself to laugh along with her even though I don't find that to be the case.
"Matt said he's really cool once you get to know him though." She explains.
"Oh really?" I nod, pretending like I am actually interested in getting to know him more. I'm not. Seriously, who would want to befriend someone like that? Would it have killed him to make eye-contact with people or something? I mean, he's been sitting with us for a week now. I know you guys might be thinking: why are you so upset that he didn't make eye-contact? It's not even a big deal, why are you acting like such a drama queen? He's shy; there's nothing you can do about it.
But the problem with that is, I know he isn't. Call it a sixth sense or a woman's intuition, whatever you deem fit, but somehow I feel like this whole "shy guy" thing is nothing but a façade of his. Trust me, as you know, I am no stranger to façades.
