I covered her mouth once more before saying, “ You're going to get us in trouble.”

I slowly moved my hand away. Her eyes still stared at me, still widened. 

“What? When did this happen?”

“Hmm, should I tell you?”

With a mix of curiosity and anger, she pinched my face fat while saying “I don’t think you have a choice.”

“Ahh that hurts. And why do you want to know so bad?”

Hearing me say that, she lets go of my face and looks away from me.

“Uhm, am I mutted?” I said.

“I was just curious! And I should be asking you something too.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean why are you so talkative and confident? I remember at the start of school I would always see you by yourself. You didn’t talk with anyone and always stuttered when it was time to talk with your group.”

“Ohhh. You saw all that?” I said, in embarrassment. “Yeah I’m not really good with big crowds. I end up being too self conscious with myself. And I always try to be mindful when talking with other people. So I’m very timid most of the time.”

“I know that. But why aren’t you timid with me?? This is our first time talking to each other like this and you're not even a bit surprised.” She tells me, trying to find her answer in my face.

Yeah, she does have a point.

“I think it’s because we already had a moment where there’s really nothing to hide. I mean, I did pick you up from under your bust.”

“Stop reminding me!” She said, pinching my arm.

“Owww, alright my bad.”

“So, you're trying to say that I’m not worth being careful?”

I wouldn’t say that.

“That's not what I meant.”

“So how would you put it?” She asked me, grabbing her pencil tight.

“I just feel comfortable around you. Unless you’re still hiding your true self, I think the way you are is great.” I said, writing down the next slide on the smart board.

“What? What are you saying?” She asked me, still keeping an eye on me.

“I’m saying that I’m not worried about talking to other people who I feel comfortable with. To me, you seem like a very cool and fun person to hang around with. I can talk to you normally without having the feeling of messing up.”

She didn’t say anything. All she did was smile. And her smile was overflowing with proudness. But it wasn’t towards herself, it was towards me.

“Are you…okay?” I said.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She looked at the smart board and started to move her right hand, writing the new set of notes.

After a while, we kept writing and paying attention to the lesson in silence. No questions, no side eyes, no words. 

Should I make up a conversation with her? Nooo, I don’t even know what to bring up. But I feel like it’s too quiet.

I looked around the other tables. Everyone else was talking with each other. Laughing, giggling, covering their mouths, and even yelling.

It doesn’t hurt to try.

I looked towards her and tried to find something to talk about.

Hold on, I just realized she isn't wearing her glasses.

“Uhm.” I muttered.

She didn’t turn to me or even flinched. She kept looking up at the board and back down to her notes.

“Didn’t you have glasses?” I said louder.

“She looked at me with a cranky expression before putting her pencil down.

“What’s it to you?” She questioned.

I think she’s in a bad mood. Maybe I’ll just be quiet for now.

“I sometimes wonder. Why do you do those things to yourself?” She muttered back.

“Did you say something?” I asked.

“Nothing." she said, scooting away from me.

Yeah, she's definitely mad.

"You know, I forgot to ask you this but, how tall are you?"

Hearing my idiotic question, the tip of her pencil broke from the extreme pressure.

Ahh I should've kept my mouth shut.

Before saying anything, she dropped her pencil before letting out a big sigh.

"You know it really shows that you don't talk with other girls."

"Sorry about that…"

She gave me a tense look, then looked away to her pencil.

"I'm 4 foot 8."

"Oh. Really?" I asked out of disbelief.

"Do you have a problem with my answer?" she said, balling her hand into a fist.

"No. I'm just surprised. I thought you were an inch shorter."

She quickly grabbed her pencil and swiftly brought it near my right hand that laid on the desk.

"Is that an insult?" she asked in a sinister tone.

Oh shit! She might actually stab me.

"No, not at all! I was just thinking how tall you were when we first met. I never met anybody as short as you."

The pencil came in contact with my hand as her face became more pissed off.

"IN A GOOD WAY!" I told her.

"Miles! Quiet down or I'm contacting your parents."

I quickly blurted out, "I'm sorry."

Although I was scared of having my hand stabbed by a number 2 pencil, I shouldn't have yelled. It's not like me to yell. I only do it when I'm really comfortable or having a great time. But with all these eyes looking at me, I could hear what they're all saying. And it hurts seeing their judgemental eyes. Because they judge a side of me that makes me free. A side of me that causes a burden.

This aching feeling is back again.

I looked at my notebook and started reading my notes. Not because I wanted to see if I was understanding the concept, but to distract my brain from the pain.

"I'm sorry." she said. 

Turning to face her, her face was glued to her notes. Yet, her eyes weren't moving or even staring at what she wrote. Her eyes were stuck on the pencil, which laid right in front of her.

"It's not your fault. I just got too comfortable." I assured her.

"Let me make it up to you."

"Huh? You don't have to do anything. It was my fault for making you angry."

Not hearing a word I said, she placed her pencil in her notebook to use it as a bookmark and closed it. She pulled her black hair behind her ear before saying, "I'll make sure to help you whenever I can." she said with a firm tone.

"Uhhh. sure?"

"In exchange, you have to promise me one thing." she said, fisting her fingers inside her palm except her pointer finger.

Please don't involve me with another girl.

"You have to promise me that you'll never lose the real you. To anyone."

I frowned my face in confusion.

The real me?

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Just promise me Miles." she says once more.

"Okay. I promise I'll never lose the real me."

"To anyone?"

"Yes, to anyone."

She gives me a smug look before resting her face. 

"Good." she says with a good tone.

"What was that all about?"

"Just think of it as me acting like your guardian angel."

Now I'm even more confused.

"You're not making any sense."

"You're a good boy Miles. Just a bit shy. But don't let anyone else change the way you carry yourself. Intentional or not."

"Okayyy?"

I didn't know why she was being so friendly and considerate. I had originally thought she was planning something against me. But I couldn't think of what.

"Oh, one more thing I forgot to ask you." I said while getting distracted by her side profile that had been hidden from before.

"I swear if it's something stupid, this is going through your throat.” she says while opening her notebook.

Gulp.

“It’s not. I just wanted to ask for your name.”

She looked startled. Almost as if I was avoiding saying her name on purpose.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t realize.” 

She looked at me, eye to eye.

 “My name is Amaya.”

Amaya. It's got a nice ring to it.

"Nice to meet you." I said.

"Why are you being formal? We already broke that barrier periods ago."

I laughed. She was hundred percent right. Still, it felt necessary to say that after receiving her name. I never said 'Nice to meet you' to anyone before. Mostly because I don't get that far when I talk with my classmates. But it just felt right. Like a habit.

"Keep focus on the lesson. I can't always be here to give you my notes." She scolded me.

"You're right. Thank you, Amaya."

She didn't turn towards me or say anything, but I knew she reacted to my appreciation. I could see it in the way she writes her notes.

Hphm. Maybe I'll actually look forward to this year.

End of journal entry 4. Time stamp: 10:45:31AM