Parallel Lines

Chapter 1: The Concept of Distance

"Any other hands from the group besides these two?" the teacher called out.

Only silence emanated from the 11-year-old children standing in their seats. Somewhere at the back of the class, someone let out a bored yawn.

She sighed, "fine, then. If no one volunteers to answer my questions for the group aside from Frances and Johann here, then I'll pick randomly."

Oh god no. My arm was aching from being raised in the air for too long. There was no other person who could answer the teacher's questions aside from the group researcher herself (I think). Our grades for history class were on the line, and I wasn't paying much attention to the subject myself to be confident enough in my performance.

"Kingley," she started, "what program of the 4th president was he well-known for?"

My torso gave in to the weight of my arm. There was no point in volunteering myself when the teacher already saw through our shortcomings. This was the end of us.

Looking across the room, I could see Johann putting down his hand as well. A look of irritation was written all over his face.

Kingley panicked at the mention of his name. Contributing nothing to the group project; equally, he also knows nothing about it. "Uhm...agrarian reforms?" he answered. The whole class giggled.

"I appreciate that you were listening well to the presentation of the other groups, Mr. Kingley. But agrarian reforms were the 7th president's famous programs, not the 4th—your group's topic of research," our teacher remarked. "All of you, sit down."

I sat down with the rest of my group. Kingley is not to blamed for this situation we got ourselves into. If there was someone to be held accountable, it would be Johann and me. Raising our hands to answer our teacher was our last desperate attempt to save our group mates from our personal disputes.

"I have to be honest, I was quite disappointed with this group. I expected so much, seeing that the top 2 students of this class—no, the top 2 students of this whole batch were picked randomly to be in the same group. I was excited to see an exceptional performance. What happened?"

Another wave of silence. I was already crying at this point. In my peripheral view, Johann was trying to hold back his tears. Such a small thing to cry about—and yet, how should we know better? We were just children driven by the education system to get good grades.

"I guess nothing can bring the two of you to work together after all. I'm sorry, but your group will fail my subject for this term. Try to keep up with our next activities, especially those falling behind."

A few scuffling of papers, a quiet thud of books, and the whispers of children filled the room. As if by cue, the class bell rang and everyone left the room.

I was the first to leave. Was it frustration with myself? Johann? Our teacher? Whatever the reason was, my tears didn't stop falling.

~~~

"Okay," Cheyenne started, "what was that about?"

I was picking my lunch with no intention of eating it. The afternoon sun shone brightly above the school garden, as if suggesting the idea of a stroll to the haunted shrine before the start of the next class. Cheyenne always wanted an adventure in-between breaks, but for today, we will have to pass.

"We did not agree with how our group project was supposed to be done. He had his own idea, and I had mine. We weren't able to come to a compromise. It did not help that our group members relied too much on both of us to do most of the work, so there you go. A disaster."

"I think you're forgetting something."

"What?"

Cheyenne rolled her eyes, "Johann knew about the fact that you liked him, and he was not shy about showing everyone that he didn't like you back. You can't work together because he doesn't want to work together."

"Thank you for that kind elaboration," I sarcastically replied.

I looked around the small garden. This has been my hideout ever since moving up to fifth grade. Due to simultaneous destruction of plants and school property by the lower grade levels, the teachers ordered all the students not to trespass. I laughed at this idea. If they want to keep children out, they should have assigned a guard at the gates.

"I didn't ask to be put in the same class as him, Cheyenne." I sighed, "what's up with this whole 'star section' thing? I didn't know such a class existed. I was content with watching him from afar."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us average students knew that they'd been rounding up the top ten students in a single class per school year. It's a good thing you still got me."

"Yes, it's a good thing. I missed our class in fourth grade. None of these academic shits mattered before."

Cheyenne finished her food and put out her lunch box in her bag. "Yeah, not until they forced us to. Didn't know you had the smarts to land in the top two."

I followed suit and kept my unfinished food. I looked up at the old, white poplar tree. It was my favorite sight in the garden. Its silver leaves were magical, as if something unworldly and divine. Below it are shrubs of yellow bells and weeds.

"Remember that one time when both Johann and I were sent on an errand to the faculty office?"

"The one he said you're just acquaintances?"

"Yes. Do you think he already knew that I liked him at the time?"

"Of course, stupid. The first thing you did when fifth grade started was to ask around what his full name was. You're not the only one who thinks he's cute, Frances. Girls understand what asking boys' names meant. And gossip is fast."

My heart fell from my chest. This was not how I wanted our first meeting to be. I genuinely wanted to be friends with Johann, with or without the infatuation I had for him. Who would have thought that the universe would conspire to shorten the distance between me and the beautiful boy in the corridor? That I would find him sitting in the same class as I am the next school year after that? That as long as I keep my school standing in the top ten, I'll forever be in the same class as him?

Cheyenne rubbed my back to comfort me. "You know what I think of?"

"What?"

"I think he sees you as competition. A nobody like you suddenly climbed their ladder and landed in a perilous spot where, with mere points, you could overthrow him from his position anytime."

"Do rankings really matter to them that much?"

"They are not in the top ten for no reason."

~~~

The school bell rang to signify the end of lunch break. Cheyenne excused herself to go to the bathroom first, giving me her belongings to reserve a seat. I looked around the room for empty spaces, and the only ones left were the two chairs behind Johann and his seatmate. Great.

I placed Cheyenne's bag on the seat behind Johann. I have not forgotten how we f****d up one major project just because of his silly pride. I wanted to say to him, "we need to talk," or "how would you make up for that?" or anything to get him to admit he had a hand in our failing grade. But instead, none of us talked to each other. He didn't even look in my direction to recognize my presence.

Cheyenne came back with an amused smile. She whispered, "and here I thought you'd be avoiding him for the rest of the day."

"Shut up."

~~~

Because of my tendency to stutter and blush at the little things, I never had the best reputation for keeping my crushes to myself; so whenever a boy learns of my feelings for them, they become cruel. And vicious. And inhumane. I was always pushed towards the spotlight of insult and ridicule just to prove a simple point—that they were not interested in me. This is how you come to learn in school that you do not meet the standard of beauty. That you are an ugly girl.

I thought, with the way Johann smiled and how his voice was gentle whenever he spoke, that he was different. I thought him more mature than his age; but I guess boys are all the same. I eventually found out that he described my face to our classmates as that of the moon: full of craters and holes, referring to my acne scars. He also said that he could draw constellations with all the blemishes on my face.

Ironically, despite this forced proximity, the distance between us grew farther and farther apart each day.