This Could Be Us.

1: Nice to meet you

The indecipherable buzzing of the students filled the school hall for the regularly scheduled Friday assembly programme

I swear to god, if I have to sit through another year of this with my sad excuses for classmates who are two-faced, fake ass plastic bitches, I can't promise I can hold myself back from pushing them out the window each time they open their mouths.

"Hey Audrey, standing around at the back of the hall, waiting for the others to sit down will only piss Mr Sam off more than he is right now. C'mon, let's go. We're sitting in the middle anyway."

Anthony, my bestfriend everyone assumed was my boyfriend since last year (but we both know he prefers dicks), motioned me towards our respective class rows and sat on the hard-wood floors. Habitually, I whipped out my pretty wrecked up rose gold S7 and placed it infront of me, attempting to hide it from the eyes of the teachers.

The air conditioning, essential to the good ol' tropical Singaporean weather, has yet to fully encase the hall in its cooling breeze. I could feel the small drops of sweat make columns down my back, dampening my school uniform. The tight waist band of my school culottes increasingly made it far more uncomfortable to settle down within these cramped four walls filled with over 1000 students.

I could care less about the stray curled baby hairs on my head that looked like it got soaked in layers of grease from all the sweat. Many of us, the graduating classes of the school, are at a point where looking decent is the best we could do on a good day. With the GCE Cambridge O level examinations starting in less than 4 months, what is proper personal grooming anymore?

"Gah dammit! I'm pissed on all levels with this game except physical! I fucking hate this game on a subatomic level with a passion." Anthony hissed playing his god-forsaken Toon Blast. Thank you oh so much, Ryan Reynalds.

"Again? Really Anthony? Exclaim like that again and you're asking for your phone to be confiscated for a whole month you idiot". As usual, I nagged at him not to get us all caught by the surrounding teachers.

Beside us, sat another class, the class that takes combined physics and chemistry, unlike us, who take combined biology and chemistry. They are the class well known for having the most student leaders, and also the "attention seekers". Some of them are like moths who constantly chase the lamp who doesn't want them around. In comparison to the snakes in my own class, they are harmless.

Seated next to me, was him. As in, Dean. I had always seen him around, more recently though, around the detention room with our seemingly strict discipline master, Mr Alex. He's probably there because he got caught smoking or he wanted to skip class and by the looks of it, none of the teachers really care at this point. Despite this, him and I never talked. We had common friends, but still, glances were only exchanged. From when i first saw him, he never really stood out, just your typical Malay dude with slicked back hair and the
standard gold Casio watch. When I saw him smoke for the first time some weeks back, I didn't expect him, one of commanders for his CCA and also part of the student leaders, to do something like that. Then again, who was I to say? I'm doing the same thing, except I am part of the football team. I suppose when you're graduating, giving a shit isn't exactly something we do.

This assembly programme is the most mundane one to date.

I tickled Anthony, but nothing. Not a single reaction. Eyes glued to his screen with the soft yet ever so annoying sound effect of the game, he paid me no mind.

Pursing my lips, I contempleted sparking a conversation with Dean. And so, I said "Eh Dean, do you have a ciggy to spare? Also what do you smoke anyway? Reds or menthol?"

His eyes widened, probably not anticipating to converse with with me. Nonetheless, a sheepish grin appeared on his face and he answered, "Reds are the best. Menthols don't taste as good."

He proceeded to dig through his worned out grey Kanken bag, revealing a small pouch holding a pack of Marlboro Reds. Cautiously, he placed two sticks into my palm. I muttered my thanks.

Soon after, a debate began between what brands tasted best. Him favouring his reds, and me prefering the menthol cigarettes. Within minutes of talking for the first time, a slew of comebacks and laughter came from our conversation.

"For someone who have fake eyebrows, you could at least make them even!"

"Oh you wanna play that game huh? Well, Dean, you could probably use your two front teeth as shovels to dig your own fucking grave once I'm done with you. "

Before we know it, the assmbly had ended and the dismissal bell rang. Well, Dean was pretty fun to talk to.

*bzz**bzz*

"Babe where are you? You're done with school right? Meet me at the mall. Love you"