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    Insignificant encounters

    Date:

    By Samika Kala 

    His stomach dropped as he stared at the boy before him. His face was devoid of guilt, shame, or anything they should’ve been feeling.

    “Get out,” he thundered, “and don’t return.”

    Everyone always acted so dramatically, as if spending a couple hundred on him was too much. He deserved more than this.

    She’d never encountered someone like him before; he was distant from everyone. Anyone who tried to approach him would be stopped by their friends. There were rumours of his arrogance and how it made him friendless. So she let him be, though she often wondered how lonely his life must be. 

    He glared at the list on the classroom wall. Maybe staring hard enough could make it explode. Being partnered with a middle-class kid was torture. They always asked too many questions and were annoying, yet some part of him thought otherwise. He’d seen his partner surrounded with friends all the time, smiling. How could she be so content knowing she was average? How could anyone?

    Late. She was late. Each step took longer than she wanted. Time was mocking her, going quicker on purpose. As her steps finally slowed, she gaped at the sight before her. She knew her partner was rich, but she hadn’t expected this. The house towered over her, taking away her breath with all its glory. 

    He threw a questioning glance at his partner. Ever since she entered his house she’d been relatively quiet. However, he noticed the awe in her expression as she scanned his room. 

    “Don’t talk much?” He attempted to start a conversation, though he wasn’t sure why.

    “Don’t you get lonely here?”

    He paused.

    “I’m sorry! I didn’t-”

    He stopped her, “it’s fine”.

    He considered her words. He could have anything he wanted–perks of being rich–yet nothing satiated the ache within his chest.

    She wanted to dissolve into the floor. She spoke without thinking, and it looked like she hit a sore spot. 

    “Sometimes,” His voice cut through her thoughts.

    He sounded so wistful that the words escaped her mouth before she could stop—

    “I’d like to be your friend.”

    He probably looked stupid staring, but he finally understood why he was never satisfied. How a middle-class person was so content. This was more than he deserved. Without a thought, he replied.

    “Me too.”

    He barely had experience with friendship, but he was willing to try. 

    Image: Roman Kraft

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