I shake my head immediately and divert my sight on our way. Nothing will change my mind about it, or so I think.

“Why?”

“I just have a feeling that I might not enjoy it along the way,” I dryly tell him, remembering the last same event we had last school year. I don't want that to happen again.

“You can, though, with your friends.”

Such thing he speaks seems familiar. I think I have read it somewhere before. But when I try to recall it, I see the wooden desk and pen in the classroom. I close my eyes. Maybe it was also one of the topics we talked about there.

I just laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I don't have such.”

“Oh, sorry. Don't you have any? I thought Michael was your friend?” he asks.

Because of that, I look at him. His one brow quirks up as he looks at me as if I am some kind of basic experiment.

My forehead furrows. “Not because I talk to him sometimes, he's already a friend.”

“I see. Maybe that's why I don't see you socializing with his friends,” he said.

Did he notice? Maybe he's just observant or he does really care for me. But if it's the former, why would he still ask me about Michael? It's neither the latter because why would he? But this dumb heart of mine couldn't help but hope for it, instead. Eventually, I just nod at him despite the many questions that troubled my mind.

“But one question, why did you choose to isolate yourself from everyone? We were playmates back in the fifth grade ... ”

That's my cue! I throw a sharp glance at him but he just quirks his lips up.

“Oh, shush it! I don't want to remember!”

“I am just asking. You can miss playing patintero because you are our leader,” he teases.

I couldn't help but to blush furiously at his remark. I also couldn't help but to remember those old golden days where I was the girl crush of anyone not because I majestically wore a mascara nor attractively put a lipstick on, but because I was a fastest runner, I was the last one to find in hide and seek, I jump high in Chinese garter, and all of the players wanted to be under my team whenever we play. It was all fine then. And I was happy. I swallow the lump acid at the end of my tongue. Remembering those days couldn't help me but cringe. Perhaps because of the changes? I was different then, e. Especially now, very different.

I heavily sigh and look at him. I bit my lips, thinking if I should just tell him. Would he understand? It's scary to justify an attitude when there's really no other problem other than me-me and those in my mind. I automatically register into my mind that no one would understand so it's better to be a mere silence, insignificant around the waves of noise.

But despite the convincing I do, I always end up doing the opposite. So here I am, inhaling sharply to say something as he patiently looks at me, like he's waiting and expecting for me to do so.

“Maybe I'm just more comfortable being alone. You know, when puberty hits, changes also occur. But you know what, they've been throwing me fake pity - that I wasn't confident enough to socialize and gain friends. See? If it wasn't obvious enough, I don't have friends. What I mean for friends is, you know, those friends that I can openly call my friends. But there's no one willing to be. ”

"I beg to disagree."

"Why?"

“For you are more confident than those who tell you the opposite. You've been eating alone in the cafeteria. You can manage to go to the comfort room without any acquaintance. You've been walking alone on your way back home. Aren’t you brave enough to handle those times of isolation in the daily basis? ”

My chest suddenly leaps so I smooth down my skirt for a diversion. Besides, my palms are sweating again. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he gives me a lopsided smile. He looks back to the front again, so did I. The words he says...It's just overwhelming to hear these from him.

I sigh. “I never thought about that, honestly.”

He halts and bobs his head to face me so I do the same, curiously looking at him with my knitted brows only to meet his gaze. I blink. He doesn't. I wait for the words he would say. There's none.

“Why are you staring at me for so long?”

“Sorry. Did I...make you feel uncomfortable? I honestly didn't know why I stopped.”

Me too. It's a weird coincidental similarity. I should be thankful for whoever connected the dots for us to do the same thing in unison.

I slowly shake my head. We chuckle for what reason as we continue on walking. I really don't like the atmosphere between us turns into silence so I ask him a random thought-provoking question I had searched in the internet last time.

I shudder when he suddenly pulled my wrist. At the same time was the passing of the raging tricycle.

The swift air that slaps my face adds tense to my nervous being. I glance at my wrist being held by him. And when I trace his grip on mine, my lips go agape for his knuckles turn white, the veins on his hand are popping in frustration, and he's gripping my wrist tightly. I could've been hit!

"Thanks."

"Be careful next time."

I nod. Never did I know it would lead to deafening silence again. Maybe that's why no one takes long to talk to me because I'm like this. I couldn't carry a light atmosphere that would give an enjoyable conversation.

While walking down the street towards the unknown destination, I gawk at him under my eyelashes, tracing his side profile. His nose is not that high but it suits him well. His lips, the upper part is thin while the lower one is plump. But there's really one thing that drawn me from the very beginning — his eyes. The lids are shaped as if they're from the hawk's; not narrow nor chinky, not that wide either. Not to mention the color of his irises. They remind me of a sweet coffee and caramel it makes me want to read and stare at them all the day.

I don't know and it is a hard pill to swallow but I think, I am falling for him again. This scenario between us is so rare. I don't want this to end.

“Freesia, I don't want this moment to end either.”