Carla and I went our separate ways the moment we stepped inside the school. I now sit in my new classroom as I wait for the opening ceremony to comence. I stare at the front gate from up the second floor window as the fresh batch of new students walk in.
I see them very nervous, eyes focused to the floor or on their phones. The majority stand in the corners to stay away from the unwanted attention, but there are some of them who added extra accessories to their uniform or look to be struggling in keeping their new hairstyle intact. They all seem to want to make a good impresion on their first day.
It is the first day of the school year. Not many first year students would know each other. It must be nerve wrecking and exciting to be able to leave your past behind and start a "new life" at a new school.
I remembered my first time stepping into my first year of high school. I wonder, was I like them too?
I saw a familiar face walking through the crowd. He was from the same all boys school that I came from. I remember exchanging formalities back then. He was a nice kid. Maybe I should exchange greetings with him later. I wonder if he still remembers me.
Remembering... I wish I didn't remember. having memories is rather inconvenient. It's brought more trouble than is worth. Even though those years were very much uneventful, that last week—
"What have you planned for your future?"
That exchange has been stuck with me ever since.
"I hope I never get to see your face again—."
Especially the ones that came after.
"I wish I could forget."
I take my eyes off the window as I felt someone's presence nearby. At first I had to do a double take. For a second, I thought I saw the image of the person who told me those words.
"Forget what?" He said cocking his head with a smile.
"Oh, it's you."
"You're such a mean underclassmen."
It was none other than my upperclassmen Adam Young.
"What do you want? I'm busy."
"If by busy you mean dramatically staring out the window all by yourself, then by all means continue."
I scoff, "It's better than pestering underclassmen."
"You're so difficult, but it's okay. That's just how I like them."
"Ugh."
"You like the new view? You're no longer on the first floor."
"I guess it's fine."
"It's enough to keep you entertained." He puts his hand inside his pocket as he looked at the gate, "You sure like to people watch."
"Touché."
My nosy upperclassmen laughed and sits on the chair in front of me. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand and with his crystal blue eyes he looked intently into mine, "What do you want to forget?"
I hate those eyes. It's like their prying into my soul. "It's nothing. It was just me murmuring to myself out loud."
"Oh, I never thought you'd be that type of guy."
"Hm? What type?"
"The crazy kind."
I felt a vein pop, "Hah, funny. Any particular reason as to why you're sitting here with me this early in the morning?"
"I came to get you for the opening ceremony. It's my duty after all."
"I don't think it actually is mr. President."
"Well, consider it special treatment for the new president."
I look out the window again, "I told you I'm not running for that position."
"You will. It's not for anyone of us to decided."
I look at him amazed. The school can't obligate me, much less him. How can someone be so confident that they will get what they want?
"How?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Whenever it's pushed by me or someone else entirely. I just know it will happen... it's fate baby."
"Now you're just toying with me. Are you one of those trust me bro's?"
His perfectly straight white teeth showed between his parted lips. His dimples formed at the edges of his smile, complementing his face, "Maybe I am."
Out of all the students I've met throught my life, I've never met anyone like Adam. Ever since I've met him, there's always been this feeling in the back of my mind.
Like a warning bell.
"Now come on,--" he said getting up his seat, "--let's get you to the opening ceremony."