It's vacant period again, and when I heard some girl call out her name, my head automatically turns around.
I quickly turn back and frown to myself. I must be really bored to be responding to other people's calls. It's the fifth time during the past hour that her name has been called.
I have no idea how I kept count.
She never seems to notice me though, so I guess I shouldn't notice her too much, too.
Heck, she doesn't even seem to notice anyone, except maybe that stupid freckled-faced geek sitting beside her just 'cause he happens to know a few Chemistry jokes.
Tsk. His jokes aren't even that good. I can't imagine how anyone could find them funny.
She's never even spared me a glance. Not that I know of and not that I care. She just sits there in her own little bubble, looking distant and aloof, as if the entire world's one boring play she was forced to watch. I guess I could sympathize with that.
Sometimes, her eyes would look so distant and vacant it makes me wonder how she still manages to alert herself when the teacher notices her spacing out. It sometimes makes me think about what could possibly go on in that head of hers.
Well, again, not that I care.
It's just unnerving how women can find so many things to worry about, like other people's clothes, for example. Or how they dwell on the sad fact that their bags don't match their shoes and all the fortunes they have to spend just to satisfy their inane, worldly pleasures. And when they don't stop talking in their shrill, high voices. Oh, man. Makes my dynamites sound so angelic. It's even funny how some women claim to hate drama, when in reality, they're the ones who actually make the most of it.
Women. Can't live without 'em, eh?
Well, anyway, to be honest, this girl—she's not that bad. If you notice some girls, you would know. At least she can shoot down some meticulously-crafted argument during class with enough grace and tact (but still sounding more like Knox than Gandhi). Her focus is unnerving, too. Sometimes, she'd notice things that I'd overlook, and her ideas are always way ahead of anyone else's, and I'd always be annoyed at myself for not thinking of them first.
I expected her to lower her head when she walks through the hallways. Instead, she walks with conviction even though there is nothing remotely amazing about her destination, with her head held high with that dignified look on her face. I think of her as the kind of girl who doesn't look at people—and at me—straight in the eye, who cowers in her seat when the other girls make fun of her; not someone who can shut anyone up with smart answers.
All in all, she's turning out to be a real disappointment.
"You are looking at her again, Hayato," Takeshi's voice jolts me out of my thoughts. I manage to keep the surprise out of face, and I stare at him as he sits down right across from me with that silly grin of his. This idiot does nothing but smile.
"I wasn't looking at anyone, idiot," I spat out the last word but it doesn't seem to bother him.
"Oh, you sure aren't." He smiles one last time before he turns his back towards me and once again escape from all the possible macabre things I can do to him.
I turn my eyes towards her again and I wonder how long I've been staring at her, and I realized I could look at her for hours.
Or probably more.