Raphael. When I looked behind me, I see my seated classmates drawing cartoon characters on their notebooks, noisy and my friend Gregory picking his nose. He sees me watching him and smiles. I nod quietly, and look back at the monotonous teacher that continues to ramble on about the relevance of algebraic equations to my daily life. I zoned out, lowering my head to rest it on my desk. The noise of the class mixed with the teacher's discussion was slowly drowning out as I let my thoughts wander. All of it was simply white noise. Soccer. Girls. Education. Money. The future. They were ideas that passed by my mind that I like to pick up, tinker with, consider, and then place back down in the messy hallway that is my mind. I was going to keep exploring memory lane until the room abruptly became quiet. It was a sharp silence. It was a kind of silence that wasn't forcefully requested by the struggling teacher. It was different. I slowly look around the class first, wondering
He smiled, he wondered how this conversation would go. "Oh hey." he started; typing slowly, finding words. "We won the soccer game a while ago. We got 2 goals while the other team didn't get any." He paused, watching the tiny scribbles of "Your friend is typing..." appear. "Oh. We had a game a while ago? Who were you against?" She said, sounding so neutral. "The section on the other corridor." "Who's good in their section?" "Uhh, " he stammered, trying to remember anyone he'd consider 'good'. He said a few names and smiling to himself, he waited for a reply. "No wonder. They're a piece of cake. Tell me when you beat the class with most of the varsities. I'll be proud, then. Haha." "Haha. We won nonetheless, you know." Laughing to himself, he couldn't believe it first. This girl is so fucking hard to impress, and yet... he enjoys it. "Yeah, yeah." She repli