#vdmc

      It’s half past 2 in the afternoon and you were sitting in the detention room staring outside the window feeling dead bored. Failing in school was not really a problem you cared so much about at the moment because you had other pressing matters to deal every day you leave the school grounds like how to make money to pay the bills and put food on the table for you and your younger sister. But the sob story of your broken family background was now a thing of the past and all you care about is how to survive. No one knows you lived the way you do. You did not have close friends but you were not so lonely either in school. You stand on the fence of isolation and popularity, dancing on it carefully ensuring you do not fall on either side for the sake of your sanity and protection.

      “___” a voice calls your name.

       You look up and notice your classmate V was standing in front of you with a bag on his shoulder. You wear an expressionless façade, rendering a nonchalant vibe about the whole mentor-mentee attempt of the academia saving you from failing in school. The boy then takes a seat in front of you and starts pulling out books and stationeries. You noticed the fingerless gloves in his hands and realising that he always wears them no matter what outfit he wore. You heard from other students that he wore them due to an accident and he was trying to hide his scars. He also almost never wore any outfit that was short sleeved. Your curiousness also tells you otherwise because you noticed a few black lines traced up to his fingertips. He has a tattoo, I bet for sure. You thought.

      “We don’t have to do this, V” you said with arms crossed.

      V pauses from flipping the pages of the textbooks and stares at you. Suddenly he lets out a scoff, “Do you think, I wanted this as well?” he says.

      You grabbed your bag and stood up, “Well then we should just stop before we start and save ourselves time,” and turned to leave.

      “Wait.” V grabs your wrist to stop you.

       You look down at your hands and tried to pry them off from him, but he keeps them firm.

       “You and I are one and the same. We don’t want to be here but we have to. If it’s too much to ask, let’s just pretend to have you study. They’re watching me.” V explains.

       You scrutinised your eyes at first after hearing him say that. They’re watching me. What does he mean by that? You thought to yourself. You looked at V and noticed his eyes was signalling something; his eyes quickly looked to the right and you caught on. You looked to your right and noticed your homeroom teacher was watching you both from the door.

Yo, creepy much? You thought to yourself again.

      “Okay Mr. Poet. Let’s play pretend. With my conditions. Firstly, you’ll tutor me like how you should. But I’m not going to give a damn about a word you say. Agreed?” you proposed to him.

      He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “AND!” you suddenly interrupted,

      “You have to tell me, why is the academic board watching you.”

       His mouth hung open when he heard this proposal as his brows began to form a knot in between his forehead. “Fine, ____. So long I can save myself from trouble.”

      You both came to an agreement. The first lesson he tutored you was on World History. You let him rant on explaining to you about the Great Depression, and the Korean War while you were pretending to listen, you were doodling on your notebook and creating little sketches of things that comes to your mind randomly. Three weeks passed and V was still tutoring you. However, whenever the teachers from the Academic Board leaves the detention room both of you relaxed a little and drop the charade. During times like this, V and you would have a small chat on everything else except studies. You learnt a lot about him; his favourite music, season, his pet peeves and noticed that he was not too different than you at all. Though, one has been itching in your mind since the day he first tutored you,

They’re watching me

           “V, you haven’t told me yet.” You spoke up. Your friend stopped whistling Claire de Lune and looked at you confused.

            “Told you what?” he asked.

            “Why they watching you for?”

      He sat up straight and placed both his elbows on the table, his hands perched under his chin.

      “Yours truly, is on the verge of expulsion.” He sighs.

      “Expulsion? A kid like you? No way.” You replied.

      “Yes. Well, I was framed that’s all I know,”

       “Framed? By who?” you asked.

       “I don’t know, but I was framed for supplying ‘the good stuff’ in school.” He answered. “Only your homeroom teacher believed I didn’t do such a thing.”

      “Miss Fayeman?”

     “Yup. So, she gathered all the members of the Academic Board and told them that if I manage to tutor you to pass this term, then it proves that I’m no dealer.” He added on.

      You sat there confused and in disbelief that a man like him would do such a thing because based on your observation, you damn well knew that V would not go that low to do such a thing in school. He has his pride and his motivation to achieve and drugs were out of the question entirely.

      “And that is why ____, I need you to pass this term.” he says quietly.

      You felt guilty after hearing his plead; but you did not want to show him your emotions. You too had your pride and image to maintain so you just looked elsewhere instead of him.

      “I have to go,” you said. You packed all your things and rushed out immediately after that. You knew that you were the weakest in your class in terms of academics but you felt ashamed that someone else with other problems was dragged into yours just to help you clean up your act. You were out of mood the entire day, so much so that your sister left you a piece of Twinkie in front of your door. After going through some thinking, you decided that you wanted to help V clean his name. You still put up with the charade after school hours with him when he tutors you under the watchful eyes of the teachers, but when you got back home, you would recall all that he explained and revise them again in your room – the constant burning of the midnight oil even put a strain on your shoulders and back from slouching at the study table too long.

      Exam season came, and you were ready to ace everything. V doesn't say much on that day, but the look on his face somewhat shows that he did not expect too much from you. You still kept your act; pretending to be unbothered about studies. When the results came, your homeroom teacher called you and V into the office.

      “My, my.” Miss Fayeman says. “Looks like no one is getting expelled.”

       V and you shared the same expression of confusion.

      “Here, look for yourself.” Miss Fayeman added and pushed a slip of paper towards the both of you from across her table. You both scooted closer to the table and eyed the results carefully. Every single one of the subjects either had an A- or A on it and lastly the commentary from the Principal down below wrote,

Extraordinary improvement. Congratulations. Keep it up.

      When the both of you left Miss Fayeman’s office, you held onto your result sheet and bolted out of the school building leaving V behind. You did not know what to feel. You could not believe that you actually studied to save a friend of yours whom you suddenly had feelings for from expulsion.

       “___, wait!” he shouted and chased after you.

      You ran out of the school building and made your way to the football field. You climbed up the bleachers and just sat yourself there, gasping for air. Not knowing how to react to everything that just happened. V made his way to where you were too, panting for air in his frail looking body. The poet made his way up to where you sat and crashed on one of the seats beside you.

      “Jesus.” He exclaims. “What is wrong with you?”

       You were still panting, but a smile slowly grows on your face. You felt like you have won the lottery – but most importantly, you saved someone from being expelled.

      “V,” you said.

      “Yeah?” he answers still gasping for air and cooling down his pulse.

      “Would you come with me to homecoming?” you suddenly proposed.

      “W-wha-“

       “Homecoming, silly. I want you to be my date.” You said.

      “I- uh. Yeah sure,” he says wearing a look that leaves him so puzzled.

       “You and I are one and the same, indeed.” You added.

      You got up from the bleachers and wanted to walk away, but V stops you from doing so by holding your hand and turning you around to give you a kiss. This caught you by surprised but you guess that your feelings for him was valid and mutual. He lets go from the kiss, smiling as he says,

    “Joy is my name, - Sweet joy befall thee.”

     “Blake, oh, Blake,” you said and pulls him in for a kiss again.