Whether you believe it or not, I was late for first class.

After Dad dropped me off to school, I rushed into the music room. It was, of course, not locked and at this time of hour, there are still no students so it was pretty much empty.

People can easily come and go into the music room, as long as you have a music pass and granted a permission to come from any teachers at the music department. Me, I don't need to do that. I already have the privilege to go. Yep, that's how awesome I am.

I plucked the string of a bass guitar I grabbed from its stand, strumming some chords too. When I felt tired just from standing, I walked to the armchair propped by the windows. Staring at the windows, I could see that students of different grades walked back and forth the building.

I looked at my watch and saw it was still 15 minutes before first class. I paced back and forth around the room when I noticed the piano at the other room, it was actually a separate room but a large two-way door serves as its interconnection. I walked towards the piano.

Every time I saw a piano, Bonnibel would be the first thing to pop out of my mind. She was after all a genius in this instrument. But I no longer saw her playing piano. I don't even know if she still plays the instrument.

As I rounded the piano, I noticed that there was a hard-bounded piano score book laying on the piano stool that I haven't noticed before. I picked it up and easily became bored with it. It was mostly classical musical scores however, something urges me to play something from it.

I sat at the stool, opened the book on my lap, and searched some scores I could play.

As I flipped through the pages I saw some scores that I'm sure Bonnie would love to play and probably know how to: Liszt's; Tchaikovsky's; Bach; Chopin; Saint-Saens; Ravel; etc. I then realized that this is an advanced book since I'm trying to find some simple scores and couldn't find one.

Every now and then, I stopped and tried to play the music scores on the piano however, it was only for a short period of time.

I'm familiar with some classical music but I don't know why every time I played it on the piano it just feels different. How did Bonnie do this?

I slumped down my head on the keys; a loud and off-key tone rang through the room. I closed my eyes and remembered my dream last night: Bonnibel playing on their piano and just easily like that, I was off to the dream world.

Yes, I slept. And yes, that was the reason why I'm late for first class.

When I ran to my first period, Professor Trunks was already discussing something to the class. She looked at me with surprise and let me inside the room, she smiled at me. At first, that totally creeped me out until I realized that she didn't scold me again for being late.

I guess, for a person as tardy as me, being late for ten minutes would be a miracle. After all, I was always late in first subject ever since the first day of class; barely leaving only 30 minutes for the discussion of the professor – I even sometimes skipped first class.

As I sat at my chair and looked in front of the room, I tried desperately to listen to what my teacher was talking about. However, I was distracted. I slept at the music room and I know that was because I couldn't get enough sleep last night. I was now thinking that I'm probably too thick to wake up since I know that the school bell rings so loud.

However, the main thing that was really bothering me was another else. It was the fact that when I wake up, a jacket was pulled up to my shoulders. I was, of course, scared out of my wits. The first thought that pushed through my mind was that there was a poltergeist in the music room.

I started taking notes and listening attentively when Professor Trunks said that there will be a quiz after the lesson. But when you are suffering a stiff neck from slumping your head on a piano for several minutes, I'm sure as hell you wouldn't be focused too. But still I tried.

Of course, that failed miserably.

I was again brought back to that time in the music room. When I was busy thinking who put the jacket around my shoulders, I realized one thing: The book on my lap was nowhere to be found. I immediately checked around the floor, thinking that it was probably dropped somewhere but there was nothing.

A sudden thought passed through me that moment. The possibility that the owner of the book and the jacket being the same was large. That was the moment I realized that first class was already starting. I dashed off to the other room and grabbed my bag, stuffing the black leather jacket inside.

When lunch comes, I'll ask some music teachers and find out who the owner is. It was probably some good and thoughtful teacher.

I leaned my back on my seat. As I look towards the windows, I saw the dark graying sky. I wish I sat by the windows so I could see the people coming in and out of the building but no, I'm by the middle seat of the class. I stared again on the board and finally tried again to focus on the lesson.

By lunch period, the rain came down rashly. I asked Betty, one of the music teachers I really like, but she said that no one in their department have a black leather jacket like the one I have in my bag. That was that. I should have just left the jacket on the music room and let the owner find it again.

I sighed deeply, frustrated about what the stupid jacket was bringing me. I don't know what to make out of this. Somehow, I feel weird about it but mostly I just feel happy that the owner was concern about me. Though, I think it would be much better if that person just woke me up.

I was about to head upstairs so I could leave the stupid jacket when I saw Keila heading downstairs.

"Hey, Marcy. We're you going?" She said. She is one of my close friends as well as my bandmate.

I nodded upstairs. "To the music room."

"Huh?" She seemed confused. "It's only minutes away to the next class."

And true. I looked at my watch and saw she was telling me the truth.

She laughed. "Come on, guitar hero," she hooked her arm on my shoulders. "Don't tell me you're ditching class for music again."

I rolled my eyes and let her pull me into our boring history class.

Every class I took that afternoon felt so long, I couldn't wait until classes would be over. The rain not even bothering to stop for once, made me feel sleepy. And I can tell that I'm not the only one suffering. Several students were already crouching down their seats, yawning with lidded eyes.

I shook my head awake and tried to listen to the professor.

Finally the bell for the last period rung, signaling the end of the school day.

Immediately, students kept pushing towards the door. I don't know why people have to push their way into a cramp corridor. Me, I always wait minutes after so I won't have to be squished there. Other classmates greeted me saying their goodbyes and see ya laters. In return, I nodded my head and greeted them back.

For another several minutes and so, I practiced with my band in the band room – another interconnected room of the music room. This was our routine every Friday. After a few songs, they left me, leaving me alone to close the door. Yep, they always do that to me. I can't believe we're all friends!

As I walk outside of the room, I realized that the building was more quiet.

Students might already gone home since classes ended long ago.

I was already outside of our building when I forgot to left the leather jacket in the music room.

I groaned out loud, frustrated that I forgot it while I was there but I was already feeling lazy from going up and down the stairs all day and the sound of just doing it tomorrow feels good to hear.

What's more is it's already late and I don't have my car around. That means I'll have to take a ride back home or start walking in this rain.

I slung my bag in front and zipped it open. Earlier in the morning, I grabbed an umbrella from my room after realizing that it might rain. Though I can't help but think that it was a bad day for it to rain now that my car was broken. The fates really want to punish me bad.

As I open the umbrella, I heard some shuffling behind me. Of course, my curiosity got the best of me. I turn my head around and saw the least person I was expecting to see. Bonnibel Becket.

We talked occasionally but it was never the same back as then, especially the last time we met. We were friends back then since we were kids and we went to each other's house all the time since our families were very close – well, just my mom and her's.

Bonnibel and I just stopped hanging out when she transferred here in seventh grade. I came in ninth grade, and she wasn't very excited to see me in her class. By the time I got here from my old school, Laura and her squad had kind of swooped in on Bonnibel. They had this weird bond that I didn't understand.

They talked about clothes and TV shows I never had interest in. It was like watching a Seventeen magazine article come to life, where the models look like they're laughing about something you wouldn't just understand.

I don't think Bonnibel or I really missed each other that much but my dreams last night stirred up many hidden feelings behind those memories. And it just dawned to me right now, I missed her.

Sometimes though, I wonder how she's doing when I see her in school because she just seems so… different now and so far from me.

When my mom died two years ago, months after my transfer, she along with their entire family attended the funeral rite. We hadn't really spoken outside of school for so long but seeing her in mom's funeral wasn't strange. She greeted me and said her sorry.

Before they left, her mom hugged me tightly. That was the moment when all the tears I tried so hard to hold back rushed out of me. Seeing Mrs. Becket just made me think about my mom.

I guess, I looked pitiful as I sobbed at the shoulders of her mom, because Bonnibel also gave me a hug and lent me a handkerchief – to wipe those snots dripping down my face. Augh.

Now that I think about it that was probably the first time Bonnibel saw me crying. I was the kind of kid that always faced every hard challenges, a pretty, tough kid you could say while Bonnie was the kind that was always behind me, saying that it was not a good idea and that we should probably just get home early unscathed. Of course, being the kind of kid I was I didn't listen to her and being the kid Bonnie was, she wouldn't leave me alone.

So seeing me at my worst, crying, probably made Bonnie see me in a new entire light.

I was very surprised when she stayed beside me. I didn't asked her if her family was waiting for her outside or if she would just took a ride back home. In contrast, she also didn't spoke to me at all.

Well, at first. She was the first one to start a conversation, which is also about my mom until we started reminiscing about our younger selves. She didn't stay long but I have a feeling that her motive was just to make me smile or happy because after that she finally took off.

I didn't dare ask her why she avoided me all those times when we were at school. I'm scared. And I'm very, very sure that I was vulnerable at that time and I think Bonnie knew it too.

We didn't talked like that again until her mom passed away, a year later after Mom's.

It was very sudden. We received the call from Greg saying that she died while on labor with their youngest brother, Benedict.

When we went to the Becket's funeral service, I saw their family. My father was the only one who talked with them. I didn't dare talked to her. Now, I'm just regretting that moment. So after several days, I went to their house for the mourning (or remembrance. It is a tradition to spend days of mourning after the death of family/close relative).

I saw a lot of schoolmates and of course, her clique leaving as I walked in. We greeted each other and they pointed me in Bonnibel's direction.

I stood around, feeling a little bit uncomfortable with my surroundings. I haven't been in to her house for a long time now. Even with all the mourners and tables of food, the place seems so large. It just looks familiar yet not that the one I'm used to.

I noticed Bonnibel with her father, surrounded by their business partners. She made eye contact with me and excused herself.

"Hey," she greeted with a smile not even reaching her eyes. "Thanks for coming."

I smiled at her. "It was a nice service the other day."

We talked for a while but I didn't stay long to actually make her laugh like what she did. We just talked about our Mom's being awesome and all.

"Anyway, I better let you get back to things. I feel like I'm holding you up now," I saw a hint of smile on her lips but I continued. "But listen, when your mom visited months ago after – uhm – my mom's passing-"

Bonnibel nodded her head, understanding what I'm talking about.

"She gave me this book my mom used to have," I saw the confusion in Bonnie's eyes so I explained it. "When they were in high school, my mom gave Mrs. Becket a book for a Christmas gift. My mom highlighted a lot of words in it as well as notes for Mrs. Becket to read. Apparently, your mom also replied to those notes and wrote somethings on it. Sadly, Mom didn't know this."

I shrugged my shoulders and gave her the battered book from my bag. It was hard-bounded and notes could be seen slipping from the edges.

"I already read it and it was a lovely book," I smiled remembering how the book ended.

Bonnibel touched the cover and opened it.

"Oh, be careful on it. The notes were slipped on certain pages so it might fall. That's your mom's rule when she gave it to me."

Bonnibel chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, mom doesn't like it when her books are trashed so easily." She smiled but easily got confused when she started to flip some pages. "Who's-?"

I checked out what made her confused. "Oh yeah, that. Mom's highlights were the yellow ones. Mrs. Becket's were the-"

"Pink. Yeah, I should've known," Bonnibel said, finishing my sentence.

I nodded my head. Bonnibel was reading some notes written by her mom when I heard some sniffing coming from her.

"Oh, well," sighing, she closed the book and looked at me. I could see that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Marce. This really means a lot to me." She smiled, and I'm thankful that it was the same kind of smile I used to see before.

I nodded my head, I gave her the handkerchief she lent me months ago, and then she hugged me. I almost jumped back in surprise but I wrapped my arms around her too.

"I know that we're not… best friends or whatever," I started. "But if you need anything, I'm always here, Bonnie."

But after that, it seemed that the fragile line that we're both walking just snapped. We didn't have a passing glance together and we didn't acknowledge each other. I couldn't save our friendship anymore because I was also at fault.

A/N:

Hey everyone! Thank you for picking and reading this story up. Just wanted to say that some scenes we're inspired from Sara Farizan's book, Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel; there are certain scenes there that was also in this chapter. :)

I also hope my characters are not that OOC. I tried my best to portray their characters as what I can tell in the series. Though just want to remind you all that this is AU. :D

Laura is obviously LSP too, if you're curious who she is.

And then, I also changed the summary of the story because I was planning for this to be not just a two-part story but a long one. So yep. This will be boring, just kidding. I'll try to keep this interesting as possible.

As for this chapter, I think it became quite angst-y at the end. Just bear with it for a while. :)

So, that's all. If you have questions just ask me. See ya on the next chap that I will be posting next week (Hopefully *fingers crossed*)

07/08/2017