I've read about it in so many novels.
Everybody gathers around the Disator and places their hands in it's water, grabbing the crystalline figure that forms in their palms.
The main character is always blindingly brilliant.
They manifest Kalistas so rare that it's never been seen before.
Or they pull a "trash-tier" Kalista and evolve it to the peak.
In the end they trample all those who underestimate them beneath their feet until they beg for mercy.
I never wish to be like them.
However, that doesn't apply to my best friend, Lucian Castilia.
He has blonde hair, green eyes, tanned skin and a light smattering freckles across the bridge of his nose. He's tall and loud. People always look his way— I can never tell if it's because he's handsome or because he never shuts up.
Usually he talks about all the adventures he will go on. All the treasures he will find. The reactions people will have when he defeats towers in record-breaking speed.
Sometimes he makes weird jokes that I don't understand.
I don't understand him, but he's my best friend nonetheless.
Right now we're sitting in the auditorium of our school.
The first day of school was a week ago, and this is our first grade-level general lecture.
Today's lesson is a decently in-depth one about classes.
The teacher- I don't know who she is, I've never seen her before- seems really passionate about this topic.
It's too bad everybody here already knows what she's talking about. Anybody who doesn't live under a rock would be able to tell you the classes of Kalista in their sleep.
"Hey Adrian." I feel a cold finger poke my cheek.
I ignore it.
"Adrian."
"Moons."
"Loony-moony~"
"Adriannnnnnn."
"Moon-" I frustratedly cut him off, "what do you want?!"
He paused for a moment. "Sorry… never mind."
I freeze in my seat. I turn to him after a second. "No, it's ok. What's up."
He hesitated, something he rarely does. "Um. So.. well, last night, I uh- my mom told me to ask you to come over for dinner. She said she- she really misses you. It's just that she's been a bit… touchy, recently."
Tsk. And I thought something important had happened. Worried for nothing, like usual.
"Today?" I ask, turning back to the teacher's lecture.
"Yeah, if it works for you. If not we can do a different day."
"Nah. Today's fine. I'll text my parents when the lecture's over. Now pay attention." I push the tip of my finger again this jawbone, forcing his head to turn away from me and to the front.
He groans lowly in reluctance but doesn't argue.
Geez. Having a best friend like Lucius is akin to being followed by a puppy, a toddler, and and a parrot all at the same time.
It's exhausting.
- - -
Getting my parents to let me go to the Castilian house is probably the easiest part of my day.
All it takes it a quick "Castilia's today. Michelle wants to see me. I'll get ice cream on the way back."
Walking into the classroom, all eyes immediately fall on us. I walk in first, as usual. I'm rather dull looking, to be honest. Brown hair, brown eyes, oddly pale skin— almost sickly. I really hate it but no matter how much I try and tan, all I ever get is burned.
In the end, I decided to just avoid the sun altogether. That probably doesn't help either, though.
After me walks in Mr. Popular himself. He recently put streaks of green in his hair. Not really sure why. Probably his mom's, idea if I had any guess.
As always, he's yapping away obliviously, talking about who-knows-what.
I quickly find our seats in the back of the classroom.
We hadn't always sat here. No. We actually used to sit somewhere in the middle-ish. That was until the chatterbox became a " distraction to the other students."
And so we were moved.
I should have stayed in my seat in the middle, but he probably said something to the teacher. Now I'm stuck in the back row too.
I wonder what he did to convince him.
Did he bribe the teacher with something? Money?
Did he give a long speech on why he needed me by his side as emotional support?
Did he get on his knees and beg, tears at the edge of his eyes?
Or did he just keep bugging the teacher until he finally gave up and moved me too. Yeah, that's probably it.
Whatever. Doesn't matter anyways.
I'm stuck here regardless.
The teacher walks in and the class starts to quiet down.
"Please open your books to page 394." The teacher's monotone voice rings through the room.
I hear the black and green haired boy next to me snicker to himself.
I look at him from the corner of my eye and give him a dirty look.
He just giggles to himself some more, lost in a world only he understands.
I look down at my book, taking in all the triangles on it's pages and internally cry.
Geometry.
The bane of my existence.
I huff in sadness, my head hitting the open pages of the book.
After a moment, I finally accept my situation, turning my head to look out of the window that's always open.
The tree in the courtyard is the only decoration in sight- aside from a picnic bench rotting at the seams, giving it a strange sort of desolate beauty.
After a moment of watching the leaves of the tree whistle in the wind, I turn back to the teacher.
I can't afford to miss a single word. After all, my grade is an A- in this class.
It's dragging my GPA down.
Unlike the dog next to me, I actually care about my grades.