January 3rd, Tuesday
Ansidara sits in his psychology class ignoring how the teacher as she gently taps an index finger to the holographic board, emphasizing that trauma to a child could greatly affect the young growing brain. The result of any trauma possibly leading to dozens of avoidable mental illnesses.
He didn’t pay the slightest attention to any of this as he becomes lost in the thought of Solaforma, the fiery haired girl he just can't get a grasp on. Truthfully, in the farthest corner of his mind he has been trying to get even the faintest hold of just who she was, the girl who self studied in elementary school helping her to skip two grades before middle school. She is the only sixteen year old in the senior class. As time passed by without an inch of success his need to know who she was dissipated with the years.
He still remembers her on the first day of seventh grade, only nine years old but far taller than average and far more antisocial than a little girl should have been.
That is one thing he can never understand. He has no idea why she is so antisocial in a world where she is at a disadvantage. Perhaps she is shy, but her attitude when treating people shows the word shy doesn’t exist in her dictionary. Then he wonders why she doesn’t try to climb the social ranks like many who attended the school, or at least spoke to the other scholarship students in an effort to fit in.
She is something else entirely. Her own rare high school species where nothing fazes her, where she didn’t care for friendships, or being outcasted. Where she treated everyone with the same respect and care as a senile old woman. She isn't cruel, nor is she kind, she is simply a calm reserved, stone faced girl that choose not to talk unless direly necessary.
So then why did she steal his holo-tab
She didn't need to if she didn't want retribution.
Yet she did and it felt like a curveball from her personality.
He turns toward the window knowing that couldn't be right. Maybe she didn't take it but if so where did his holo-tab go, she was the last person to see it. Not to mention he couldn't track it. Someone had turned off the location but that couldn't have been done unless they got through the password or if they had the password.
He taps his finger against his lip in thought. Where was it?
“Ansidara?” A voice asks snapping him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, coming face to face with a wavy haired brunette girl. She has hazel eyes encased in long thick black lashes that batted with adoration.
She was beautiful and Ansidara knew no matter how many times she denied the comment from friends she had become intoxicated with the praise, now living for such affection from others instead of herself.
He doesn't like that. He doesn't like her desperation for love.
“It’s lunch.” She says keeping her hand mere inches from his own that lay flat on the cold white desk.
“Okay.” He mumbles avoiding eye contact with the girl's disgustingly sweet smile.