Miss, Do I Know You?

03 - Wednesday, September 9

Nature's unspoiled breath had always been my peace of mind, cradling me in calming introspection. But today, upon a park bench by the school, there was not much peace to be found. I had intended to spend my lunch break here, and yet all I was left with was introspection.

For nearly an hour, she had claimed her usual lunchtime spot, unmindful of my observant eyes that kept straying through the trees and stealthily snatching glances as if to confirm her presence, this time with a book shared alongside her habitual cigarette. Once she had paused, inexplicably, looking away from her book to gaze out into the park, and I had nearly died of fright that she had noticed me. I felt like an intruder, but it wasn't even on purpose. It was just her that drew attention.

Our acquaintance had been short—merely over a week of shared spaces and oblique glances—but little by little, she crept into my thoughts like a cloud of noxious fumes, always lingering at the back of my mind, despite my efforts to evict her. She had an alluring indifference, matched by a savvy awareness, and while she had always acted strange with me, an even stranger transformation had taken place in recent days.

Whenever my eyes dared to join hers, her demeanor stripped every thought from my head, as if her mere gaze was enough to swipe out unnecessary considerations. In class, she took special care to always call on me, but there had been multiple instances where we had found ourselves entrapped in a silent exchange where words dared not intrude, far longer than usual boundaries. Almost like she was testing me on something, as if she wanted something from me.

Some impulse, almost unsolicited, pushed me to simply get up and confront her, to ask directly for the truths that I wanted to understand. If only it weren't for the warning bell echoing from the school that wrenched me away from the thoughts and held me in reality, where more doubts and theories bred and spread in my muddled brain. It was all so confusing.

However reluctantly and unwillingly, I wandered down the hallway toward the classroom with unhurried strides. But my senses were more focused on the resounding drumbeat of high-heeled boots striking the polished floors behind me, a sound all too familiar. No matter what I did, wherever I looked, wherever I went, it seemed to be there.

A monotonous voice trailed along, as untimely and blunt as always. "Class is starting in half a minute," it intoned before Miss Martin drifted past without deigning to spare me even a glance, leaving behind a faint waft of meadow blooms.

Her words halted my advance, compelling me to lean against the wall and linger in audacious procrastination. The impulses of my own heart confused me; I didn't know if I wanted to provoke her deliberately, but I wanted to share in the exhilaration she seemed to derive from it herself. I didn't want her to monopolize all the fun.

And when I finally stepped inside the classroom, one pair of eyes stood out, casting a disapproving glance my way. "You were ten meters away from the door and still managed to be late?"

"No idea how that happened."

Miss Martin let out an inexhaustible sigh, a mental moan, before her gaze veered back to the rest of the class. "The results of yesterday's test were surprisingly good," she began, a note of dry humor seeping into her tone. "Given your enthusiastic participation in class, I was expecting a disaster, so thanks for proving me wrong. But there are some things that I'd like to point out."

Her fingers plucked a paper from the stack. "One of you went to great lengths to explain every answer in the multiple-choice quiz part where it was absolutely unnecessary. Thanks for the light afternoon reading, but I must admit that it's just pointless and left you with no time to finish the rest."

The following paper met the same fate under her scrutiny. "This one had obviously filled in the quiz part at random and drawn memes under every exercise. You know who you are. I gave you an extra point for each huff of air that I let out, but you failed anyway. Please see me after class to go over the reasons for it, and we can figure out when you can retake the test and whether you need extra help," she concluded, her voice dipping into a hushed register. "Or just be a bit funnier next time."