Forbidden Paramour

I found myself fell to the ground again as I accidentally collided with Alex, a bigger and stronger guy. I struggled to stand up but when I do, I had no slight derision in my expression. I smiled at him and there would be no further commotion.

Was it my fault, or his?  I always asked myself before but for a few more incidences like this, and to the same person, I concluded this was not a rare happenstance. A Perfect definition of bullying and I am the perfect target. I could not retaliate, I hate attention from other students and I hate further embarrassment.

There’s nothing I could do. Just hoped for the humiliation to end immediately and the end of the semester as I could change my walking routes towards classes. But for the time being, there was only one way towards my classroom, the cobbled walk path passing the campus park. A place students would loiter during their free time. Hence, the name Freedom park.

Maybe it was my fault, I walked along campus roads with my head down, sometimes reading, and sometimes from overthinking, too shy to look at any student’s face or apprehensive to catch them laughing at me. Yeah, overthinking and overanalyzing.

I dazed my thoughts and overanalyze things, a self-declared hobby that I have molded to achieve grandeur beyond the mundane. Grandeur? An impossible trait that was rarely associated with losers like me. Yeah, loser. The closest trait relatable to me, that the majority would approve - nerd, quiet, few friends, and scrawny.

The clock struck ten minutes earlier for my class, I lowered myself to my seat and spread my legs across the floor, and my posture, slouched. Punctuality was one of my best traits and provided me the time to drift my thoughts of insignificant predicaments that I internally devised. Other students mingled with their friends, for there have several of them. But me, I am fine on my own, daydreaming and overanalyzing.

Basing on scholastic records, I could say I am an extraordinary student. That’s what I am, at least what I tell myself each day. But nobody seemed to approve except maybe my two friends, Bert and Carla. I had maintained my above-average pace to sustain my scholarship. It paved my way to this prestigious school that my mother, Angela, cannot clearly afford. All my dedication in school and hard work had led me to this school, and there was no way that I could mess up my scholarship. Otherwise, I would end up in a government University which do not par with the teaching standards offered by prestigious schools like what I am in now. I got only one shot on this and no second chances for me. There were times that I suggested to my mother to work part-time to offer help in our family expenses but she refused all the time and would say, “Just concentrate on your studies, Luke. Don’t get distracted.”

Even though five years would be agonizingly long but banking on my brighter future would always weigh much above the rest of the reasons. I sat at the back end of the classroom and waited for a particular person to come in. A few students were already in, but not her.

I slouched in my chair to indulge in an excruciatingly boring hour of Differential Calculus that would always lead to a question, ‘would this help my life get better?’

Mr. Sanchez, our professor, came in earlier as always and rustled to his lecture papers, reviewing them before the class starts.

My gaze would frequently be locked outside the window across the room that provided a view of ornamental trees and chirping birds. I talk less with my classmates, I was the introverted one. Chatters increased inside the room as students started to rush in a minute before the start of class but still, she had not come yet.

Mr. Sanchez sat on his chair with a dry expression on his face, swept his glance from end to end of the room, waiting for the students to settle in before his lecture. A routine that he would always do.

My vision now locked at the open door for a few significant moments. As if every second passed was longer than usual. Finally, she walked in. As she took her first step inside the grey-tiled room, everything now was in slow motion, watching every inch of movement her body partakes. Her hair swayed from left to right, gently caressed her shoulders and synchronizing her strides. Her heart-shaped face gleamed as if she applied make-up but it was her natural beauty. Her skin was almost transparent, faint blood veins visible, and smooth-looking. Her gray eyes glittered against the sun rays that invaded the room through the windows.

My heart pounds strong, I guessed a natural feeling for humans to someone they adored and admired. At least I was not alone in this infatuation but also Bert, my closest friend who also had a crush on her. He sat beside me and often he would look at me while I stared at Maria. I saw it in my peripherals, his face teasing me, catching me like to ferret this beautiful creature. We were much more alike, top of class and scholarship was our admission ticket.

Maria Cruz sat in front of the class and her seat was clear from my vantage point. I loved to look at her pale-skin nape as she collected her long and wavy hair and settled in one side of her shoulder. She was very attentive to class, seemed to have struggled with Calculus. I sensed her dedication to learning and that added points to my admiration. A girl who had a lot of friends, and was beautiful, also had given significant regard to her studies unlike other popular girls.

I was quite jealous of some guy classmates that were close to her and had the same ‘status’ as her. The status would always stand out in this school. Cliché would be the student that had parents with the most money were the popular ones. Intelligence would come, maybe last. Beauty and popularity in sports would come second.

Mr. Sanchez started to face the blackboard and started writing. The chalk faintly shrieked against the board and it formed a combination of numbers and letters that I disregarded to be attentive for now. I let it slide for a few more minutes, my focus was the girl that sat in front of the class. Her shoulder blades stood out from most girls, she had the best pair, I guess. She looks confident with them.

Suddenly, my view was disrupted by a faint blow to my right elbow. I was startled and glanced at my right and it was Bert, signaling me that Mr. Sanchez had noticed me staring at somewhere else other than the board. I and Bert always clicked with so many things and helping each other with everything. We were both scholars but Bert was different than my experience. He came from a middle-class family that could afford the tuition fee but opted to avail of a scholarship.

“Mr. Mason,” Our professor addressed me with a stern voice, “what do you call this formula?” He was pointing to the board with a series of numbers and letters. Everybody turned their heads towards me, including her. I rattled a bit and my vision now focused on the formula written on the black board. It was familiar. Mr. Sanchez waited for several seconds for my answer then before he started speaking again, I interjected, “It’s a Derivative of a constant, Sir!”

A faint smirk was evident in Mr. Sanchez’s expression. “That is correct!”

‘Woah, that was close.’ I thought. It was almost embarrassing. If I had not answered, the teacher would divulge that he caught me looking at Maria. He would probably be sarcastic and would probably say to the class that I drool while looking at her. Additional points to a looser-nobody.

I saw her smile at me and my gaze met hers. But I could not determine the message of that smile but it must be something. I could not read her mind, all I could do was to dream. But I must compose myself not to reveal too much of my feelings for her, it would be very embarrassing. I would be the least of her choice, or maybe not even considered a choice against popular and handsome guys on the campus. I sighed, now from that moment I was certain that the teacher would not call me again unless he caught me again staring at Maria. I felt relaxed for that moment.

The bell rang, the first period ended and Mr. Sanchez dismissed us. The random chatters grew again like in the stock market trade floor, but not me, I just stayed in my chair and back to my pleasurable routine, looking at her from afar. It would sometimes give me daydreams that she would talk to me about the subjects. But it never came. For two years that we have been classmates, she noticed me in rarest incidences but for the majority, I was invisible to her. I only stood out if I answered the teacher’s unexpected questions.

“Hey, daydreaming again?” Bert said.

His words muffled in my hearing but I glanced at him with effort and replied, “No, I am just absorbing the complexity of Differential Calculus.”

“Yeah right!” Bert was skeptical about what I said. He knew too well.

I stood up and shoved my things inside my bag. I was the last to go out of the room but unexpectedly, Maria was there talking to Mr. Sanchez. The conversation seemed serious, her shoulders now slouched and her hands clasped together in front of her with her head a little bent. She seemed sad from my standpoint. I thought, ‘She might be failing this subject’ from the looks of it.

I found an opportunity to help her with this subject. I waited for her outside the door and with the intention to offer help, at least it might start a healthy friendship, an opportunity to get closer to her. The door suddenly swung and she walked briskly with her gaze straight in her direction. Her face with a hint of a frown. I felt an invisible barrier between us, repelling our bodies to get closer, and I decided it was not the right moment.

“Maria!” A call from afar the corridor as she created distance from me. She glanced at the source and she smiled. It was Lance Davis, the basketball captain, and a popular heartthrob at school. I could see her face transformed and her smile shimmered against the bright sunny day. Sadness was immediately engulfed my happiness just by one look to this guy. I would always hoped that I was the guy that could provide that certain level of happiness to Maria.

I felt my shoulders were suddenly heavy and the discomfort in my chest rose.

‘All I could do was to dream.’