Do not associate Raphael with me, I am not him nor is he a person I consciously wish to be. These are just ideas. These people are not real nor are they copied. This story is completely made up by me, with random thoughts. If you think it is bullshit then remember that I don't give a shit. If you think something is unclear, then comment about it and I'll try to fix it. Thanks in advance.
“Hey, where’s Raphael?” a voice said. Desdemonda turned around to see who was talking to her. It was a cheerful Samantha skipping slowly until she was beside her at the same pace.
“He’s with the guys, I think, by their usual room.” Replied Des, who slowly went to the front of her class and leaned on the wall to read.
“All right. You want to come with me?” she asked, offering her hand.
“No, I’ll just study. We have a quiz, see, and he’ll come by later on anyways.” She said with a smile, her eyes returning to her notes halfway her sentence.
“Alright, then." Replied Samantha, who caught up with a few guys who were walking towards the direction she was led to.
That was how Desdemonda’s morning usually ran. People were asking for Raphael who was most probably hanging out with his guy friends talking about anything and everything and about nothing. They seem shady being exclusive to themselves, actually. But that would be to the dismay of the teachers, who would be riled up with all the ruckus they would make if ever they were in the same class.
Yes, let’s go back to Desdemonda. She’s in front of her class studying about a quiz that was announced only a few days ago. She’s really determined to excel; it is what’s expected of her. She’s alone though, flipping through the pages quietly while people passed by. There are a few who would pass by the very corridor just to ask for her notes, and she’d give them copies she specifically prepared for these people.
But let’s go back to her morning. Why was she the one being asked? Well, everyone else was off in other people’s classes, hanging out most probably. If not, they’d be at the canteen eating before class starts. She’s the only person you know you’d routinely see in front of her class, studying.
And at exactly 10 seconds, a tall lean boy would peek by the corner of the corridor.
Exactly on cue. He would then slowly walk towards Desdemonda, greet her with a warm smile and sit beside her.
This on the other hand, would be Rhode’s early morning routine. After a few days of class hopping he found Desdemonda sitting by the wall, reading. And now the two of them would talk, amusing each other until classes start.
Ring, the bell went. Teachers were walking to their respective classes while students prepared themselves for the start of the day. Amidst the crowd of restless students, a particularly elevated head can be found tilted downwards, the figure coming closer and closer until it made its way to the class before Desdemonda.
“Good morning, Des.” He greets with a smile.
“Good morning, Raphael.” She answers back, smiling a bright friendly smile.
And that is how mornings usually start for students of this school. The school’s name, you ask? It doesn’t matter. What’s more interesting to talk about would be what this young lad will be experiencing through out this school year.
The classroom was filled with chatter of friends talking to each other. Some were still drowsy with the morning, yawning with drowsy eyes and stretching their limbs. Desdemonda was seated at the back of the class, where most of her friends were, while some of the rowdy boys were found in one side of the room. Coincidently, Raphael was there with his troupe.
Homeroom starts, teachers come, studies commence, and lethargy seeps into the room. He’s roaming the class. Sprinkling his sand until the teacher shouts to get the class’ attention. What a trickster.
Gregory was playing a trick on a drowsy Raphael whose head slowly bobbed up and down, resisting sleep. The teacher stomped on the platform, shaking up the whole class and shaking all the sleepiness everyone had.
“It’s just inevitable, when teachers speak this boring. She doesn’t even try to make the class interesting. Like she gave up hope years ago.” Raphael joked, Gregory laughing it off.
“Yeah. Like, in her past life time.” Gregory resisted his laughter, sniggering instead.
“Is there something funny you would like to share in class, you two?” The teacher said, catching the two boy’s attention.
“No miss, nothing’s interesting.” Raphael said.
“Good. Now pay attention.” She said, returning to her dull tone of voice.
“You made that pun just right now, didn’t you?” said Gregory, his eyebrow raised.
“Course I did. They were shaking in their seats already,” Raphael said, turning his head to the guys behind him. “It’s cool that the teacher didn’t notice though.”
“Yep.”
And that would be the usual classroom shenanigans the two kids were up to. They weren’t kids anymore, actually. They were at that ripe age where common sense, sarcasm, impulse, and beer were all mixed together, thus creating a mixture of hooliganism.
Raphael was correct; The pun went unnoticed by the teacher. there was someone else, though, who was pissed off because of that distraction. It was Samantha, who was on the other side of the class; the side of the class who were attentively listening, copying notes, and fighting sluggishness as if it was World War Two. Samantha hated quite a few things, and this was one of them.
“Ugh, what an attention seeker.” She murmured, her eyes returning to her notebook.
“Yeah...” Replied the girl beside her, leaning forward so as to not be heard. Samantha was surprised at first, but continued to listen. “But he’s so fascinating! And he can play soccer so well! That should count for something.”
This was one of the other things Samantha hated. It was one of those girls who drooled all over Raphael. He acts all tough and cool but when grilled by the teacher with questions, all he can answer back is silly replies. He’s even barely passing his grades! How can anyone be infatuated with this mongrel whose pride is pumped up by fan girls?
“I don’t quite think so,” she said, shaking her head and returning to her notes.
“Well, I bet you’ll change your mind soon.” She said, smiling with confidence. Turning to her own notebook, writing down things leisurely.
Comments
Post a Comment