•SALOME ALAN•

I've been seating in this class for the whole day. Technically, that's what schooling is all about but the angle in which the clock decided to travel today is a real long journey.

A really long one!

If not, our economics teacher should have packed her huge textbooks and walk out of the class but here she is, speaking on and on, drawing what I pursue she titled, 'elasticity of demand and supply.'

Is it just me feeling this way? Or...

I stiffly turn my neck to see the facial expressions of my classmates. While some are still looking at the teacher, looking as focused as ever, few are steadily checking the clock. I have to press my lips, turning forward to stop loud snickers from leaving my lips. It's just too funny to notice.

It's like this woman isn't aware of how uninterested her students are, or maybe she just choose to ignore.

The novel in front of me seem to draw my attention to it for the umpteenth time and I must say, my heart skip by just looking at it. Economics is the last subject of the day, meaning I'll be in Mr. Alex's office in the next... ten minutes?

Wow.

I shut my eyes tightly and open almost immediately. I'm happy, happy that I managed to read a novel to the end but why do I also feel a tad nervous?

When I look up again to see our teacher dictating from her textbook, her shoulders slumped with her left hand massaging her forehead, I need no one to tell me that she's also tired, maybe frustrated, and can't wait to get done with today's teaching.

After what seem like two hundred minutes later, I notice how my classmates jam their notes close, shoving it in their bags and adjusting themselves.

It's time!

The same time the loud bell goes ringing from all corners of school, penetrating every hidden angle of the environment, my heart goes ringing with it. Slamming against my chest as some impatient students storm out of the class in a frenzy, almost hitting each other.

"Wait! I haven't given you guys a take home assignment." Our teachers voice made them halt right before they walk out. Series of grumbles and frowns erupt the once serene class as they drag their feet back to their seats. I can't help the light chuckle that escape my lips.

"Good, now jot down what I'm about to say because you are to submit tomorrow. Your mid term tests are coming up so..."

The rest of her words are tuned down in my mind. I'll tell Kenny to send it to me and do it tonight. What matter now, what my mind is clouded about is how fulfilled I feel about doing what makes my teacher, Mr. Alex, proud of me. I grab the novel from my desk and run my fingers through the front and back for the last time. I have my copy, don't get me wrong, but it feels... different, so different to receive his copy, making me what to read it all over again.

"... that's all for today, see you all tomorrow." With that, the middle aged woman find her way out of class. Finally. Well, at least I was able to grab her last words.

Uneasy classmates as usual gush out behind the teacher, impatient enough that they almost stomp over her. Like she knows they're behind her, she subsidies her steps, earning hard glares from the desperate students.

I tear my eyes away from them, calmly arrange my rucksack with a small smile playing on my lips.

"Hey camp girl."

Ever since I told Kenny that I'm going to camp, he has been calling me that, 'camp girl.' I spin around, giggling shamelessly at my new nickname. He's standing behind me, a lopsided grin on his smooth face.

"Camp girl huh?" I arch a brow, trying my human best to look serious which didn't last for a second before I burst into laughter.

Kenny waves his bag over his shoulders, breaking into laughter too.

"Yes, that would be your name till..." He trails off and I Bob my head, waiting for him to complete his sentence.

"Till when? The first day of camp?" I ask, wiggling my brows. This guy sure knows how to make me act like myself, without been shy or insecure.

Kenny press his lips together, nodding heavily.

I laugh again, "Really? That's in like... a month time, right?"

He squint his eyes, trying to confirm if I'm right or wrong. I adjust the long straps of my bag to properly stay on my shoulders and take up the novel.

"I don't know yet," Kenny states. "But don't worry, I'll follow it up and update you everyday, well... if that's cool with you."

That strikes an unexpected smile to my lips. "If that's cool with me." I repeat, more to myself. He seem to hear because he chuckles afterwards, nodding.

"Yes, if it's cool with you. I'm happy you decided to go so I should be a great company, as soon as possible. But, if only it's cool with you."

I pout my mouth, resting on one leg. "Kenny..."

"Yep?"

I exhale calmly, "Why are you this cool?" I have to ask. As far as I can remember from when we started talking, even while chatting, I notice how he choose his words wisely. Before he asks something out of the blue, he'd first of all ask if it's appropriate for him to ask something like that.

What a gentleman.

His soft chuckle make me look up at him.

"What do you mean, Salome?"

I shrug, looking at him.

"Wow... well, I'm just my normal self Salome, that's just how I am."

I lift my first finger to poke his forearm. "And. That. Is. Cool. Asf." I break with every poke. "But really, if you keep up with this and most girls notice, they would rush you at every chance they get." I spill, folding my arms beneath my bust.

For a second, Kenny's eyes flashes with seriousness that I think it's just my imagination but his face is back to Kenny's signature look, smiley and charming. He exhales sharply, a grin playing on his lips.

"Do you think I'm this way to everyone?"

Can I answer that?

Just because he's this way to me doesn't mean he's the same with everyone but even when I see him talking with other girls, they seem to blush steadying no matter how neutral he looks and react.

"We are the only ones in class, Salome."

His voice pulls me out of my reverie and I turn rapidly to see that the class is empty already, my mouth forming a big 'o.'

"Besides, you have extra classes." Kenny reminds, glancing at the novel in my hands.

"Oh, yeah, true. Uh... can you please snap and send the economics assignment for me on WhatsApp?"

Kenny smirks and jerk up his thumps up. "Sure thing ma'am. I have to meet my sister now, she'd be waiting for me by now."

"Oh... okay, you can go ahead," I wave him off, even though we're walking out of class together. "I'm going for extra lessons with Mr. Alex."

We walk out of class, Kenny waving at me before going down the hallway. School is still occupied with few people as I stroll the opposite direction to Mr. Alex's office. My hands instinctively grip the book tighter as I walk closer and closer, passing by some empty classes before coming in view with a familiar door.

My literature teacher's personal space.

Instinctively, I tuck in my somehow rumbled shirt into my skirt, constantly taking double look at my uniform to appear neater than usual. I think I'm currently used to wearing ankle socks now and be comfortable with it, unlike two, three weeks back.

I inhale deeply, raising my folded knuckle to knock on the door like a professional secretary who's about to deliver documents to her boss. Don't blame me, I watch way too many movies.

"Come in." His hoarse voice says from the inside and I purse my lips, creaking the door open. Halfway through, I push in my small big body inside and close the door behind. Mr. Alex is typing on his laptop and like he knows I'm the one that entered, he raise his head to see me, his glasses perched perfectly on his nose.

I flash a wide awkward smile, walking closer. "Good evening sir."

He nods, heaves a deep breath and look down to continue typing. "Have your seat."

Without thinking twice, I slip down my skirt with my palms and settle on the foamy grey mini couch, waving my knapsack to seat on my lap. My desperate eyes on it's own slides up to see my teacher. He'd subsequently check a little note by his side and continue typing on the screen, looking as serious as always. Now that he's putting on something entire different from his regular button down shirt, he looks... different. Neat black long sleeves turtle neck hugging his broad body and making his bulging biceps more pronounced. Just as I'm about to look at his facial expression once again...

"Are you done with the novel?" Mr. Alex gaze up at me instantly and I've never been so fast in deviating my eyes elsewhere.

I clear my throat, nodding. "Yes sir," I reply, zipping my bag open with a knowing smile on my face. As much I want to act natural right now, it's just not working. I feels weirdly good making a teacher proud of me. Making Mr. Alex proud of me.

"Here it is." I place the novel on his desk and push it toward him, carefully enough not to disrupt how arranged his desk is. "But sir, I have a question."

That seem to prompt his attention because he shuts his laptop and push it aside, giving me his full attention. I have to bite my lips from smiling too much.

Mr. Alex relaxes his back and fold his arms. "Okay what is it?" His gaze is directly at me, pouring his honey brown orbs into me and I once again, feel like a secretary explaining what's inside the document for her boss to sign.

"It's about the book. When I started it, the title flowed with it but then getting to the middle, it seem off, like I'm reading a total different book." I explain, gesticulating with my hands. I don't know how I look like right now but I feel like one hell of an intelligent looking student.

Mr. Alex leans closer and take up the book. He surveys the cover then look up to me.

Why do I feel like I asked something brilliant though?

Nice one, Salome.

Remind me to tap my head and praise myself later.

"Happy Days Last..." He enunciates, more to himself than to me. I shift in my seat, relaxing myself for two full hours lecture. "Okay, first of all, tell me what happened, what you felt while reading it."

Okay... That shouldn't be so hard.

I pore over at the book in his hands again, my mind rumbling on where to start from. When I look up at Mr. Alex, his eyes are still on me, waiting for me to pour out what I was excited to read.

"The first scene..." I trail off for a second, trying to get used to how he's staring at me. I know he's indirectly telling me to summarize what I read but I don't want to make any mistake, I want to make it as heartwarming as I can.

"The first scene started with happy kids, happy people playing and having the best of fun in their hood. It's almost like... like they didn't have any worries of what's going to happen-"

"-then, everything turned upside down when the war started, it became so tragic that people lost their life, a lot of people. They were all caged and forced to stay indoors, yet hearing the blasting and shaking of their world tearing apart before their eyes." I sigh, shaking my head as the full memory of what I read slips into my head. "There was this girl... Yema, she was about twelve year old during the era. She'd cry every single day, reminiscing how her life used to be, how she'd go to school, play with her friends and not worry about tomorrow."

I find myself breathing down after saying so much. I still don't know if what I said made any sense but when I look at my teacher who has been quiet, I feel my body paralyzing. In a good way.

Mr. Alex is smiling.

He's actually smiling at me.

Am I dreaming?

I've never seen him smile and I must say, it's... Perfect. Just by the side of his face, on his left cheek, a deep hole is structured there, the type of aesthetics people call dimples. Astonishing part is he has just one, outlining his handsome face.

Yeah... I said that.

Would I be a hypocrite to say that?

"I'm impressed." Mr. Alex says, his smile still evident. I open my mouth to talk but no words roll out, not like he noticed me gawking openly at him since he's now flipping through the book. I feel my lips stretched in a smile so wide that my mouth is beginning to hurt. But who cares? I just got a compliment from him.

"Thing is," Mr. Alex starts, jamming the book close and I snap out of my wild thoughts, pulling out a natural face all over again. "You're finding it hard to identify the figure of speech there. You know what figures of speech are, right?"

"Yes sir." My reply is instantaneous. "I just... Don't know how to identify them."

He nods, heaving a sigh. "Obviously. Now see," He gently takes off his glasses and place on the desk. "This book, 'Happy Days Last', is a perfect definition of an irony."

I nod in my little understanding yet waiting for him to throw more light on it.

"First of, what's an irony?"

I open my mouth again but Mr. Alex is already answering the question he asked.

"An Irony is the use of words to express something other than and especially the opposite of the literal meaning, just like what you just read."

Wow.

A small smile form on my lips as I take in what he's explaining. I think I'm beginning to understand how literature works after all.

Mr. Alex rest his hands on the desk. He tilts his head to read my reaction on what he just said.

"Do you get that?" He questions.

"Yes sir."

"The writer here, used the opposite of what the book is truly all about. That's like... like reading a book titled 'Joys Of Motherhood' when the actual content is filled with the bitterness of what the protagonist actually faced. How her children abandoned her to live in pains and plight. It's no way linking to the presumed title." Again, he peers at me, hoping I'm getting all what he's saying.

"Wow, that's..." I scratch my forehead, words escaping my mouth.

"I know what to do." With that, my teacher search through this drawers, pulling out stacks of notes, jotters and papers.

***

With little more explanations, two hours is gone. Just like that. As I thought, Mr. Alex gave me notes I believe belongs to him for me to read and memorize. That moment, he looked like a total different person.

Not the grumpy teacher I thought he was but an instructor who's ready to teach his favorite student.

Favorite student.

I throw my head back on my bed, chuckling at my thoughts. I can't be his favorite student, I believe he was like that today because I did what he said. Respectively.

I got back from school an hour ago, washed up in a hurry just to check out the notes I was given. The book is still beside me but my anxiousness and curiosity is eating me up to the extend I find it hard to touch it. It's nothing special, trust me.

But still, it's from Mr. Alex.

Running my hands through the cover for the hundredth time, I slowly flip the note open, instantly wowed at how outlined and neat his handwriting is.

I know it. I know I sound like one of Victoria High girls who drools over Mr. Alex but they are not here, and it's not like I'd smile sheepishly when they do.

The contents in the note is the full explanation of the figures of speech, written and well decoded by Mr. Alex. While scanning through the lines of blue, green and black writings, I make myself comfortable by resting against my headboard. Mid term tests is coming up but if I don't read this first, my body would inch me till I tear it open.

According to Mr. Alex, he gave me this to coach me from the creche to get the perfect knowledge of what he has been, and would be explaining later on.

I look up from the book when I hear mild ring of the doorbell. I'm the only one home and I'm not expecting anyone so I shrug, going back to reading, only for the bell to ring again. Lazily, I place the book to face down in the most gentle way, put on a flip flops and walk out of my room, rubbing my eyes at the slightest disturbance.

"Who's there?" I call, making my way down the stairs.

No answer.

My forehead squeeze in a frown as I hasten my steps to peep at the see through on the door, fumbling with the keys and telling my chest not to beat fast. Squinting my eyes, I try to get a view but the person's back is turned and I can't the face.

"W-who are you?" I shift back a little, leaving the keys and waiting for the person to talk first. It's a person, he or should should have a mouth. Instead, a knock came this time and I jerk back, my chest beating against my ribcage. This is weird.

Better still, I won't open up. When the person gets tired of knocking, he or she would leave. I turn around to walk back upstairs when a voice finally come through.

"It's Sean."

S-sean?

I halt in my steps and spin around, my brows furrowing. I don't know if I should be surprised or scared or both but I find the last courage in me to turn the keys open with shaky hands. What's he doing here? How did he know where I stay?

Slowly, I turn the knob open, stick my head before fully drawing the door open.

And it's Sean, standing in front of my house in a deep blue joggers and white hoodie. He's staring at me, the kind of stare that make me look down at myself to see the tiny thing I'm putting on. A pair of flowered boxers and thin hand pink crop top.

Oh my god.

It's Sean guys😌
What is he doing in Salome's place by the way🤔
Please vote vote vote and comment whatever you think😍
Take care and see you in the next chap!🙈😘