My classmates are weird.
I don’t know where they got those ridiculous ideas of theirs, but what’s more baffling was that the rest of the class seemed to get along with it.
I watched with a questioning look as my classmates turned into pigeons: passing, exchanging, and even delivering folded notes to each other as if they couldn’t do it themselves directly.
What’s more strange was another trend that sprouted out of nowhere in the same month wherein students gave random (and pretty simple) objects to just anyone they felt like giving to. It was already February, and somehow I was tempted to explain the said event due to the gift-giving feels, but then again I just couldn’t.
Yana, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the passed notes and trinkets she was getting in the class. It was still a week before Valentine’s Day and I had a feeling she would be receiving more gifts by then. I could imagine her desk full of chocolates, flowers, stuffed toys, and whatnot given by secret admirers and bold suitors in and out of the class. She had already become popular in the campus, after all.
I was wondering what kind of chocolates Yana would prefer when she leaned against my shoulder to my surprise.
“Sleepy?” I asked, trying not to move a muscle.
“Mm… The booth is taking too much time. I can finally rest when it’s done,” she murmured.
Yana was pertaining to the construction of the Haunted House booth where she was assigned to help with. Even though freshmen weren’t allowed to join clubs yet, they were being asked to help during the School Fair.
The booths were primarily handled by different clubs. There was the Café booth by Home Economics club, Gaming booth by sports clubs, Karaoke booth by Music club, and so on.
The Haunted House was usually handled by the Math club and Visual Arts club and was considered as the busiest booth in the Fair, so almost no one wanted to be a volunteer. Our Math teacher though, fully aware of Yana’s charismatic appeal, assigned her to help in the said booth, hoping she would get to tag other freshmen along. And he wasn’t mistaken. I could see those guys getting excited to work on the booth just to see her there.
I, on the other hand, was assigned to help the Literature Club with their Book Event. The Fair was always scheduled the week of Valentine’s Day and with only a few days left to prepare, participating students were straining to finish their booths on time.
And I couldn’t help but worry about Yana.
I was about to tell her she could rest on my shoulder for as long as she wanted but our teacher arrived and we all sat properly. It felt suddenly cold when she moved away from me.
After class, I went to the emptied storage room being transformed into a (pretty decent) haunted house. I immediately saw Yana near the entrance as she was measuring a piece of lumber and marking it with a pencil.
“Just like your height, hm?” I playfully called over her shoulder which clearly surprised her.
“Geez… you scared me!” She made one of those theatrical expressions of hers and then raised her eyebrows. “And excuse me, I’m 153 cm. This is 152.”
I laughed. Of course she wouldn’t let that pass.
“Alright, alright.” I retreated and placed another piece of lumber before her.
“You’re supposed to be helping out in the Book Event, right?” Yana said to me before continuing her work.
“We finished early, so I’m free to help out.”
Thanks to the efficient and organized system of the Literature Club and the hardworking members, we were done ahead of time. Well, arranging books and doing inventory weren’t that difficult to begin with, after all.
After muttering something that I guess was an expression of gratitude, Yana brought out some brushes and paints from the Arts club. She then gave me instructions after one of the guys collected the marked lumbers for cutting.
And so, Yana and I were left on our own, sitting on the floor, our backs against the wall near the entrance. We were quietly painting character masks when she held out a finished one over her face.
“You will pass for a vampire,” I said, letting out a smirk.
She picked up a jack-o’-lantern, a skull, and a mummy mask and tried them one by one.
“I will still go for the vampire,” I finally said, convinced that it was the least cringe-worthy choice from the others.
I looked at my collection and picked up an alien mask to follow suit. “Eeeeeeeoooooowww,” I said in a warbly voice that made her laugh.
“Don’t want a clown?” she suggested while looking at my pile.
“Nah, I don’t like clowns. Reminds me of a creepy movie back then,” I said, pertaining to a scary film that hit the cinemas when we were little.
“Ah, yeah I remember that. Mom and I didn’t get to watch it but I remember covering my eyes whenever its commercial was being shown on TV. I would rather watch the funny ones when I was a kid, though.”
“The magical ones, I bet,” I teased her, remembering how much she had cried over something like that.
“Those with happy endings of course.” She beamed. “When the couple gets to be with each other in the end, sharing a peaceful life together with their families. That’s just all I want.”
“That happily ever after, I see. If forever does exist,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Of course, it doesn't. We all die in the end, but what matters is how we lived,” she said and proudly grinned. “It's nice, right? I made that quote myself.”
“I wonder if couples stay happy until the end,” I commented, still thinking of that happily ever after.
“Why don’t you ask your parents?” Yana was eyeing me curiously.
“I don’t usually ask them stuff like that. It’s kinda awkward, you know.” I knit my brows just by the thought of it. “My mom would rather know if my sister and I have been drinking enough water in a day. She’s working as a nurse in Singapore, that’s why.”
“Your mom’s sweet.” Yana was smiling. “How about your dad?”
“My dad works as an engineer in Middle East. We don’t get to talk much even when I was little so I don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he was the one responsible for getting my mom pregnant with me.”
“Well, at least you get to know him,” she said, looking down.
I thought it was her turn to tell me about her dad but moments passed in silence. The next thing I knew, Yana, with a paintbrush and an unfinished mask in her hands, had fallen asleep beside me, her back leaning against the wall.
Such a sleeping beauty.
I smiled to myself and freed her hands so she could sleep better. Not seeing a cloth nearby, I used my handkerchief and carefully wiped off the paint from her hands.
Seeing that she wasn’t waking up any time soon, I decided to finish all our work so she’d be surprised once she wakes up.