Ever since that obtrusive day, Garfield had started opening his eyes wider. He'd be caught staring at the cafeteria entrance, staking out at every exit as a housefly and glaring in fierce concentration into blank space.

The last gave Kori quite a fright as she was telling him about her day when he suddenly froze up at the sight of one of her lavender candles. She wailed to Richard about boring Garfield to death which caused a ruckus in the tower.

Kori flew around, attempting to find some kind of plant that would break her dear friend out of his fatal spell. Richard, under the impression that Garfield had been telling Kori that idioms were real, scolded him. He was so kept up with his rant that he didn't even notice how scarily still Garfield sat, leaning on the table.

Garfield finally awoken from his dreaming state after Victor place a sizzling plate of charred bacon under his nose.

But that evening left three confused titans, a burnt meal and a green cat leaping onto a private tree to elapse time in his thoughts.

"To write in a perspective, first we must be able to understand with the character we are portraying. In my humble opinion, characters always sound more vivid and realistic when you, as a writer, can empathize with them. Garfield, define empathy."

Was the sky always so clear?

How can one really know the scent of tree sap if they do not know what it smelled like in the first place?

Are cats clingy?

Does sweat sometimes look appealing?

Garfield's head blizzarded with questions about life which didn't help him in any classes. Taking Richard's advice, he tried to declutter his thoughts by shoving other intrusive thugs in his head.

Scrutinizing on the idea of wet socks, he shivered against the edge of his desk.

"Garfield, I didn't spend four hours making a lesson just so you could sleep through it!" His teacher chided, clicking her tongue between her teeth.

Suddenly, the edge of his vision went black, making him zero in on the knot of the teacher's tie. Now what was her name again?

Her eyes were heavy with mascara, accentuating how tired she seemed. Her mouth set in a fine line, not loose but tight in a forced smile. Her hair was pulled back; Garfield could almost sense how strained her scalp must've been.

Now what was his English teacher's name?

He squinted for a clue, perhaps a name tag or card on the desk. His vitalizing eyes followed her pointer stick down and down until he was staring at the back of someone's head.

'Rachel' was the name he mouthed, not his teacher's.

"It's Ms Bradford, darling." She was too nice to notice how red he had turned from her question.

How was he supposed to respond? Garfield didn't read this in his guilty pleasure magazines.

Ms Bradford rapped the top of a desk. "Here, here, I have a nice seat just for you. Perhaps, that'll help."

Garfield sure felt like a baby. Lazily getting up, he dragged his body towards the front of the classroom. His face flushed with heat but it simmered as soon as he noticed the lack of attention his way.

Instead, the teacher's lesson captured his peer's eyes, lulling them all into a trance. Perhaps they were just sleeping. That would have been more likely.

His pout tilted into a gleam as he stared at the back of the girl. Were they friends? Who cared. It didn't stop Garfield from taking his pencil and reaching for the center of her back. He didn't reach far as the desks were squished just enough so it'd seem like he was resting his arm on the table.

He shuddered in fear as he tapped a dot onto her. Her lack of agitation make his tap another dot, this time more boldly and firm. With a gently swoop, he created a parable that dragged across her front when she turned to stare at him.

She was going to yell. Most definitely. It was so certain that it made Garfield flinch.

Rachel gave him a stare and handed him a stack of paper. She licked her thumb, slid a worksheet into his hand and reached over his head to pass the stack to the girl behind him.

"If you don't finish, it's for homework."

"What? Oh!" He messily grabbed for his pencil, dropping it along with the worksheet. "Yeah, whatever."

"Also," she scribbled something small on his hand and turned back towards the board, managing to escape the scathing eyes of Ms Bradford who merely smiled at the sight of Rachel writing.

Rachel's lopsidedly drawn smiley face was beginning to resemble the one he had drawn on her back and the one he bore when he left class that day.

This time Garfield had taken the form of a sticky gecko who held against the railing meticulously, being sure not to hide in plain sight. He needed a stretch to avoid a hiatus away from his many forms. His shifting was like skating; once he stayed away from the ice too long, he'd have to get used to the feeling of gliding on a blade all over again.

His tongue instinctively slapped onto his eyes, cleansing them of the pixels of sand getting beat around by sneakers.

'Where art thou is she?' He had no idea what he was thinking but whatever it was, he liked it.

There she was in a dark grey tee shirt tucked under a purple skirt. He recognized that same outfit from English class, a memory that coined so evidently in his mind that he spent last period wondering if her skirt was real velvet.

The plan was rather simple. Skitter up behind the tree, shift back into his old dinky self and convince Rachel to accept his friendship.

Garfield had been in dire need of more friends. He was sure that the other three already had bounds of them and having just Iris was rather lonely. She began getting on his nerves and on top of that, her schedule was crazy. This left him with nowhere to be after school and no one to talk to other than his buddies back at the tower.

He wasn't about to let himself be embarrassed. Seeing Kory, Richard and Victor chatting about other people they've grown close to made him feel left out as he often fell silent during movie nights and supper.

One

Two

Three

Go!

His small feet dove between the curvatures of the wall when he hurried for the tree. Garfield could feel his tiny heart race as she slowly approached the tree.

No! He was so close. Yet so far. Using the very last bit of energy in his reptilian body, he lunged forward, somersaulting mid-shift. His vision was swallowed into darkness until his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight once again.

Sure, Garfield must've looked stupid with twigs stuck in his mane and scratches lined up along his arms, but he made it!

He turned to look at empty space and found himself disappointed at the sight of the girl heading off with another, laughing and cooing at their phones. All that hot excitement flew through him and exited his body with a large, heated sigh.

"Must've been a cat video. Dang it, those are so adorable!" He exclaimed, celebrating his foul luck with a kick at the tree and a stomp in the grass.

"My favourites are the ones where the cats scream 'no' theatrically as they melt into the bath.", a quick voice said beside him. "Very touching. I love them."

"Rachel!" Garfield's eyes widened at the fathoming sight of his classmate right beside him.

"Yes, me. Yay." She replied just as plainly as before. Her stark eyes fixated on the scrapes on his limbs, silently judging the boy in front of her. "You seem excited to see me."

"Uh yeah, duh." What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to say? He couldn't swiftly say hey and slide into an icebreaker about after school plans. "I'm, uh, hungry."

"Okay." She stared at him, face void of any emotion. "You like coffee?"

"Ugh, no." Wait. Was he supposed to say that? She could've been inviting him to get coffee but he, as an idiot, rejected that from ever happening.

"Good. Coffee sucks. I know a good bakery that only serves tea."

Some would call it a miracle. Garfield went from hurling towards an oak tree in gecko form to following Rachel towards a coffee-free bakery.

He inhaled that fresh scent of butter and powdered sugar and let himself relax. To think that all he wanted was superficial company when he received a day that he would talk about for weeks. Garfield laughed at the sight of a kid tripping off his skateboard, not caring how much Rachel told him off for being sadistic.

He hadn't been this relaxed in days - dare he say, years.

I know this chapter seems short but I swear, the next few chapters will almost double in length :). To all my new readers, I wonder why on earth would you be up at 2 am reading this.

-Catisa~Orsilla