Where It Started
1005 Words
Clara
I didn’t sleep immediately after opening the box.
Instead, I stayed on the floor beside my bed with childhood photographs scattered around me like tiny pieces of another life.
Some pictures already faded slightly at the corners.
Some had childish handwriting behind them.
Some made me laugh quietly to myself.
Others made my chest ache in ways I didn’t want to think about too deeply.
And somehow
Most of them had Reig in them.
Not always beside me.
But there.
Existing quietly in almost every memory.
I picked up one photo carefully.
First grade.
The year I transferred schools.
The year I met him.
And just like that
The memory came back clearly.
***
I remembered being excited on my first day.
Most kids cried when transferring schools.
Apparently I was the opposite.
My parents always taught me to be approachable. Friendly. Sociable. The kind of child adults proudly described as:
“Madaling pakisamahan.”
So even though the classroom felt unfamiliar, I adapted quickly.
I introduced myself confidently.
Smiled brightly.
Made friends before lunch break even started.
Honestly?
First grade me was terrifying.
Meanwhile
There was one person who barely spoke the entire day.
Reig Miller.
Even at seven years old, he was already quiet.
Not shy exactly.
Just…distant.
He only answered when spoken to, and even then his responses were painfully short.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
That was it.
Meanwhile the other boys in class were loud and constantly running around like they personally hated silence.
But not Reig.
He mostly stayed seated quietly near the window.
Drawing sometimes.
Reading.
Or simply staring outside.
At first I thought maybe he just didn’t like people.
But eventually I overheard some classmates whispering during recess.
Apparently his parents had just gotten divorced.
I didn’t fully understand what divorce meant back then.
I just remembered thinking
Oh.
Maybe that’s why he looks sad all the time.
A few days later, our teacher rearranged the seating plan.
Unfortunately or maybe fortunately
I got assigned beside him.
Third row.
Left corner.
Beside the air conditioner.
Honestly?
Good seat.
Only problem was
The air conditioner leaked.
Badly.
The water dripped directly from the front corner, occasionally splashing onto Reig’s desk.
That morning was especially terrible.
His notebooks were soaked.
Even his worksheets had water stains already.
I frowned while watching him quietly move his wet books one by one.
But strangely
He wasn’t doing anything else.
He just sat there silently while the water kept dripping.
I waited for him to move his chair.
He didn’t.
I waited for him to complain.
He didn’t.
Instead he simply stared down at his wet papers quietly like he already accepted it.
Even our teacher noticed eventually.
“Oh no,” she said worriedly. “Reig, your books are wet.”
He only nodded once.
“It’s okay.”
Which was clearly a lie because his math worksheet looked like it survived a flood.
I stared at him for a few more seconds before finally scooting my chair slightly.
“You can move here.”
Reig blinked once before looking at me.
I pointed at the empty space beside my desk.
“We can share books.”
He stared at me silently.
Honestly?
It was slightly intimidating.
Because his eyes even back then looked unusually serious for a first grader.
Our teacher smiled warmly.
“That’s a good idea, Clara.”
So Reig had no choice but to move.
Slowly, he carried his chair beside mine while holding his wet notebook awkwardly against his chest.
And that
That was the first time he sat beside me.
I remembered smiling proudly afterward like I had successfully adopted a stray cat.
“Hi,” I whispered dramatically while opening my book between us. “Now you have a seatmate.”
Reig looked at me quietly.
Then after a few seconds
“…Okay.”
I gasped softly.
“You talk.”
That made him blink again.
“You thought I couldn’t?”
“I thought maybe you were secretly mute.”
“I’m not mute.”
“Hm.”
He frowned slightly.
“What?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I kinda am.”
And for the first time
I saw him almost smile.
Tiny.
Barely there.
But there.
Achievement unlocked.
From that point onward, things became strangely natural between us.
Mostly because I refused to leave him alone.
During recess, I dragged him into conversations.
During group activities, I automatically partnered with him.
Whenever he forgot crayons, pencils, or snacks, I shared mine without asking.
At some point it simply became normal.
Reig never complained about it either.
Not even when I talked too much.
Which was impressive.
Because apparently even back then I spoke like I had unlimited energy.
One afternoon during dismissal, I noticed him sitting alone again while waiting for his driver.
“You always wait quietly,” I said while sitting beside him.
He shrugged.
“My mom’s busy.”
“Oh.”
Silence settled briefly.
Then suddenly
“Do you like chocolates?”
Reig looked at me strangely.
“…Why?”
“Because I have extra.”
I proudly handed him a small chocolate from my lunchbox.
He stared at it for a few seconds before accepting it carefully.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then after a pause
“You should smile more.”
Reig frowned immediately.
“Why?”
“Because you look scary.”
“I’m not scary.”
“You look like a tiny businessman.”
“What’s wrong with businessmen?”
“They look stressed.”
For a second, he simply stared at me.
Then unexpectedly
He laughed.
Small.
Quiet.
But real.
And somehow I remember feeling absurdly proud afterward.
Like making him laugh was the greatest achievement seven-year-old me had unlocked.
After that day
Reig started talking more.
Not to everyone.
Just to me.
And slowly, without either of us realizing it...
A leaking air conditioner became the reason why Reig Miller entered my life.
- Writer
