"We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love." (Robert Fulghum)
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"I'm sorry!" whispers Nevin, but I keep looking at the blackboard, on which the math teacher is writing an extremely long exercise.
As much as I like math, the way our teacher presents it doesn't seem very entertaining to me. Fortunately, practicing besides the given homework helps me understand it better than in class, so I managed to keep up for the moment. Nevin, however, is a bit parallel, so I often have to waste my breaks explaining certain theorems to him, which he never understands, and he ends up wasting my time and copying tests from my paper, even though we don't have the same subjects. I wonder when the day will come when we get a one for copying, because many times our tests are almost identical.
It's at least the tenth time this hour alone that he's apologized, and I told him that it's OK the first time, but he continues, as if some words can change something. Every break I quickly left the classroom so he couldn't follow me, and I made sure to only come back in when the teacher was close to the class to avoid any unnecessary discussion. So far it has worked for me with the dodge phase, but it won't work forever, because sooner or later he will catch on. I put my pen down, deciding that this is getting ridiculous, and I should stop with this childish attitude.
"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" I ask him in order to test him.
Nevin is distraught and totally lost in space, which proves to me that he didn't understand anything from my previous behavior. Only now does he notice how many formulas he didn't write in the few tens of seconds he was paying attention to me, while I transcribed something, but not everything. I hope there are students who have written everything so I can copy the lesson from them, although I'm usually the one sharing the lessons with others, not the other way around.
"Because I upset you," he answers simply and confusedly.
I roll my eyes, tapping my foot obsessively. I turn my eyes to the window, watching nature grow deader as time passes. I prefer the cool atmosphere of autumn to the heat of summer, but I dislike the long rains, which send shivers down my spine. I also can't stand it when clothes stick to my body, exposing parts I cover with hoodies and jeans.
"And what did you upset me with?"
I'm ironic. I'm trying to get him to admit that he doesn't know the real reason why I've been avoiding him the whole previous day, which was, quite frankly, horrible. Predictably, Harlyn was upset after receiving a text from Michael letting her know they had broken up, but she was too caught up in the past, feeling remorseful, to not pay enough attention to it. I have a feeling that she will do it today, since she has braved herself enough to walk the halls of the high school, as she used to, like a queen of this place. I fear the moments approaching when she will be fully aware of their separation, in which I am involved, and I will have to give her detailed explanations. I'm not ready yet because I haven't put together a speech and I don't have an escape hatch.
