Not Your Normal Kid

As days passed by, like always, I didn't say sorry to her. Didn't admit I acted weird or anything like that. So now, it's happening—the line between us began to expand, like heaven and earth. Even though there's always been a line, this time it was… I don't know what to call it. Anyways.

Midterm exams were coming up, so I tried—just a little—to focus on my studies with Nitesh and his group. That group was something else. There were, what, six or seven of them? Each one was a unique creature.

There was one who wouldn't stop talking, like a broken cell phone stuck on speaker mode. Then there was this big guy who thought he was some kind of hero. Always lifting benches when cleaning the classroom or "playfully" smashing kids with one hand. And don't even get me started on the nerd—he'd been trying to beat her in studies for five years. Five years. Dude, people could circle the whole planet in that time.

Then there was the so-called playboy of the group, always trying to flirt with girls. He'd get used by them and tossed aside like a trash bag every single time. And finally, there was this one average guy. Just normal. Not much to say about him.

So yeah, I spent my time with these weirdos, and midterms came and went. We gave it our best or whatever, blah blah blah. Then came results day.

We were chilling in class when the teachers came in and started announcing our results in front of everyone. I was like, Why don't they just hand us our marks? Why do they have to brag about it to the whole class?

Before I even realized it, my turn was up. My result slip was in my hands.

Tenth position.

Not bad, considering I'm not a book guy. I only study because my imagination of my dad giving me lectures won't let me rest.

"She did it again," Nitesh said, leaning over. "Second position."

I shrugged. "Is that so."

This was the moment I'd been waiting for—the perfect chance to clear the air about everything. But when break time came, my legs wouldn't move. It felt like Egyptian mummies were dragging me into the floor. Just as I was gathering the courage to stand, I saw her coming in my direction.

My heart skipped, but before she reached me, she turned toward the chatterbox. They started talking, laughing about stuff I didn't even understand. Not my level yet, I guess.

Then, mid-conversation, the chatterbox said, "Hey, congrats on getting tenth place!"

She looked at me too. "Yeah, I heard. Congratulations."

And that's when it happened. Instead of saying "Thanks" like a normal person, I said:

"Sorry."

Out loud. Clear as day.

Both of them froze, staring at me like I was crazy. But instead of asking why, she just smiled—this gentle, quiet smile that made my chest hurt—and said:

"Alright. Don't do it again."