Where We Are

04 | R E A L I T Y

"I think all of us are always five years old in the presence or absence of our parents."
-
Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

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04
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"Hurry up!" I whispered, giving a quick kick to the chair in front of my desk, whilst expertly keeping an eye out on the movements of the teacher, and calculating how much time it would take before he would reach our row to collect our homework.

"I'm trying! But I can hardly see a thing you got written down on here Ky," he hissed in response, without bothering to look back. Time was of the essence, with only one more student to pass by before he would turn to look our way.

A loud thud erupted towards the front of the classroom and books were now decorating the floor like confetti.

"I'm so sorry sir I wasn't looking!" The brown skinned girl said, standing up and making a fuss — the rest of the class catching onto our shenanigans instantly. She shot me one last look before continuing on with her gimmick.

"Thank God for Tamy," I quickly thought to myself, before delivering a quick pinch on Bryson's back, causing him to wriggle in his seat — garnering attention and muffled laughs from the amicable student-body.

He turned back to face me, an automatic tug at my heart surged from the action. His jet black hair was short and his dark eyes glistened with both contempt and amusement as his pale pink lips hinted at a barely there smile. He tossed the booklet onto my desk and played coy just in time as Mr. Pattinson eyed us with unmasked curiosity.

I couldn't help but notice how much Mr. Pattinson had aged in his few months of teaching, the wrinkles underneath his eyes and on his forehead being a dead giveaway. He was only 29.

"Okay! It's time for recess! Enjoy your break everybody," Mr. Pattinson said, looking more excited to get away from us all more than anything.

"Tamy, I love you, OMG! Such a lifesaver!" I gave my best friend a hug, whilst two pairs of eyes stared at us in fondness.

Every weekday for the last several years until our current last year in middle school was spent with the four of us, and I knew I would have a complete blast for the rest of my life knowing I have my entire safety net with me. A force to be reckoned with.

Tamika with her unresolved beauty and brains, ambition and independence that shone through even at the age of 12; Dylan with his quiet confidence, athleticism and passion for one day becoming Spider-Man; Bryson with his stone cold but cool looks and mischievous nature that made him fun to be around — yet was secretly the smartest of us all; and myself being the approachable, dependable yet reserved best friend — the one who would help you bury a body and take it to my grave.

"You totally owe us Bry," Tamika glared at him as he sat across from her on the bench table.

"Just pass me your book next time," he responded, giving me a quick smirk that had both Dylan and Tamika chuckling. The running gag about my awful handwriting would always be a thing.

I swung my left arm at him but he skillfully dodged the impact and only the air was punished.

"Guys—," Dylan intercepted, blocking me from my target, his blue eyes looked electric as he grinned, even through the mop of blonde hair that was growing long enough to impair his vision.