CHAPTER VI

Sunny

"You have a wound?" he asked, looking at my hand with a big band-aid.

"Ahh, yeah." I answered and slowly pulled my hands out.

Why is he looking at my hands so intensely? Is it because of my wound?

I tried to sway my wounded hand from left to right, and he was really following where I was swinging my hand.

"Here," I said, holding out my hand. "It is just tiny. Do not be so curious about it." I added, letting him see what he wanted to see, if ever.

He did not answer me and just stared at it for a while. He is now weird. He really is starting to creep me out.

Is it his first time seeing a wound? He got an injury from the dog last week. So why is he looking at it as if it was his first time?

"Boo!" I said, making him look at me. "Is this your first time seeing this? How rich are you?" I asked him.

He glared at me before looking at my paper. There are only two reasons why he is acting like this. It's either he is rich and couldn't see something like this. If not, then he is just weird.

I gasped. "So, you are really a rich person? Woah, that is why your skin is fair. No wonder." I added, nodding my head after finding out his secret.

He is white, and his skin is fair. Rich skin, in short. He has more glass skin than me! He acts and moves like one. That is why. He got something from his bag.

"Here is mine. Go out of my sight, poor one." Steven said, shooing me away.

"Tss! Thank you." I said and went back to Shiela.

"Guys! Steven got an answer to question number two! First come, first serve basis!"  Shiela yelled, making our classmates run toward our chairs.

After a few minutes of battle with my classmates, our onlooker came with some big news.

"Guys! We can all now calm down. We are safe. There is a meeting, and no substitute will come." He yelled, which made us scream in happiness.

We can rest for an hour.

"We will just copy it next week." One of my classmates said, giving Steven's paper back to me.

"What the hell! What did you do to his paper!" I yelled at them in anger. "Steven! Look what they have done to your assignment paper." I said, reporting what they did.

Steven signed me up to come to him. So I strolled toward his chair, feeling nervous. "You are the one I handed my paper to. So, whose fault is it?" he asked. "Do not try to explain that you did not expect this to happen." He added.

"But I am not the one who did this." I answered back. I was explaining my side, almost whispering.

It feels like he will really smack me.

"Re-write it now, or else I am going to smack you too." he threatened.

I am right! He looks like he wants to smack me! "How can you smack me? I am a girl!" I replied.

He arched his eyebrow. "So, what?" he answered back. "Do it here, now. Don't give me more reasoning. It is useless now." he added.

I looked back at my classmates, who were also looking at me. After that, they quickly looked away and avoided my eyes as if they had never done this to Steven's paper.

I am going to kill you guys later! Why is this my fault when I did my best to help them answer it too? They should be sorry for me!

I looked at his paper and finally noticed the nice penmanship and clean composition. It has no erasure. Just a clear paper with good writing. "How can you have such nice handwriting when you are a boy?" I asked while sitting beside him.

Looking at his penmanship amazes me now. It's clean and does not look like the penmanship of a boy. Boys can have this good handwriting, but it is rare. He is one of the boys I found who has good penmanship. How to be like his hands? I want to have good handwriting too.

"I know mine is much better than yours." he mocked.

"You and Shiela are the same. You guys have a sharp tongue. How I wish I could cut them." I told him.

He handed me his paper and pen. "Make sure it is readable." he warned again.

"And if not?" I asked back.

"You will do it again and again until it is readable enough. Write now." he answered calmly, but enough for me to gulp in nervousness.

Why does he sound so scary? He really fits in the strict professor mode.

I made sure to make my handwriting readable and avoided making any mistakes. I don't want to get scolded by this strict Steven.

"I am sorry about your paper. I will make sure not to share your paper again with them." I told him.

"So, this is what you call teamwork?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, we decided to help each other. We want to graduate altogether without leaving anyone behind," I shared. "It will be fun graduating with them. Just thinking about it makes me happy and excited at the same time. How about you? Do not tell me that you have no friends."

He glared at me again.

"Sorry," I told him. "Let's make friends later. It is fun to have many friends—a real one, okay?" I added.

"I have, but they are not here." he answered.

"You just got moved from here?" I asked. "Let's find friends later. Our classmates are kind. I have been with them for years as well. When I started studying here, I thought I would be alone. They helped me, and we are still friends now." I shared.

"If I don't like it?" he asked back.

This time, I am the one who throws a glare at him. "At least try to talk to them. They thought you didn't like them because you were not talking to them. They are scared you might not answer them when they try to talk to you." I shared our classmates' concerns.

After the tour with him that day and the days they saw us talking, they thought that we were already close.

"I am done," I said, handing him his paper and pen. "Right, you promised me that you would treat me. While we are at it, we will talk to our classmates." I added.

"Why does it feel like you are forcing me to do it?" He asked.

"Forcing is one way to make friends, okay?" I told him. "So you don't have to take me to the library whenever you want to borrow books. You can also ask other people to come with you." I added, smiling at him.

"You are creeping me out with your smile."