Being polite for me has always been a challenge; if being polite means engaging oneself to small talk, that is. Okay, I can listen to you, but don’t expect me to talk. It’s the compromise I can make.
My seatmate, however, couldn’t get it.
From school traditions to students next door, to my favorite hangout, food, and books, the topics she had come up were endless.
“Clarion High School has a good reputation. Have you not encountered problems while you’re here?” Yana had been asking me questions nonstop since we started packing school supplies to be distributed the next day.
Well, aside from the typical loud students every class had every year, I guess the rest were pretty tolerable.
I mentally sighed and looked at her as she carefully put art books in file envelopes. I wondered if she didn’t get exhausted. She glanced at me, trying to catch my eye, but I didn’t give in. But for the sake of being polite, I answered her latest question.
It had been a week since my seatmate, Yana, and I became student assistants of Ms. Morales, our class adviser. We were told to take the chance to be at ease with each other, which Yana seemed to have taken seriously. Personally, I would’ve preferred to do things quietly.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” she blurted, finally noticing that fact about me.
I had just placed the last stack of envelopes at the back of the room and looked at her as she sat sloppily in an armchair, crossing her legs. I would like to say something, but I wasn’t sure which one to comment on first: her honest observation, or her sudden change of demeanor?
I chose the first.
“So, you noticed huh.” I gave an awkward smile and made sure she would see that. Not my smile though, but my effort.
“Yeah, not that hard to figure actually.” She yawned and continued, “You only talk whenever I ask you something. You don’t open up conversations or continue a topic.” She blinked sleepily I thought it was cute. Wait—what? Such a strange thought.
I pulled a chair and leaned against the back rest, facing her.
“I—yeah I’m just not used to talking that much,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m such a boring company.” I laughed a little to ease the atmosphere. She looked a bit annoyed but I felt I could be honest with her. I somehow felt it was what she wanted.
“So it seems,” she replied in a quiet voice and sighed. She looked at me with her sleepy eyes before she lowered her head to her desk, using her folded arms as a pillow. “I’m tired,” she muttered and closed her eyes.
“Wait, you can’t be serious…”
Moments passed and she still wasn’t moving. “Yana, hey, you can’t sleep here. Let’s go home now so you can rest properly.” I crouched before her to check if she was really sleeping or what.
“Hey, Yana... Are you really going to sleep when we’re about to leave now?” I asked her as softly as I could. “C’mon, get up already,” I sounded like pleading I felt embarrassed for myself.
Looking at her from a short distance made me notice how angelic her features were: a childish face that resembles a heart when she smiles; a cute nose, pink lips that match her rosy cheeks, and of course, that eye-catching light brown, wavy hair that complements her beautiful skin. I realized I was staring long enough so I looked at my watch instead which read: 5:45 PM.
I touched her shoulders and gently shook them. It was unusual for me to get to touch another person. It felt awkward even in a situation like that.
I was running out of ideas on how to wake her up, it even occurred to me that I might have to carry her down to the clinic and let the school contact her home. Or worse, be left in my care if the staff were no longer there. But I didn’t even know where she lived. I didn’t even prolong that topic, like she said.
I knew I was getting exaggerated. And why do I feel guilty all of a sudden?
“Look, I’m sorry for not talking to you that much,” I started slowly. “It’s not that I don’t like talking to you. Please don’t misunderstand. Like I said, I’m just not the talkative type. Plus, finishing the tasks right away was the only thing I had in mind. It’s not as if I accept them wholeheartedly anyway.”
I let out a sigh. “To think it’s even my fault that you got dragged into this. It was so stupid of me not to get your name. I was… a bit distracted that’s all.” I’d been staring at her for a few minutes and she still wasn’t moving a bit. I touched her again, but on the head this time, as if petting her.
“C’mon, sleeping beauty. Prince Charming’s not here to kiss you so please wake up now.” Alright, this is the last attempt. If this doesn’t work, I give up.
It didn’t take long when sleeping seatmate finally uncurled and stretched to her heart’s content. Her half-opened eyes looked at me as she flashed a wide, triumphant smile.
“Finally,” she said, the playful smile not leaving her face.
“Finally what?” I stood up and let my legs regain circulation.
“Finally, you talked to me on your own.” She chuckled.
What the heck?