The Art of Being Nonchalant

Damn it, making us go to school right in the middle of summer break just to check the damn class lists. I don't get why they waste our time like this, all just to look at a piece of paper.

There are three printed, wrinkled sheets taped to the concrete wall. I scan the names until I find mine on the 3rd-B list. I got placed with two of my best friends. Excellent. I keep dragging my eyes down the list.

Ushigami Rika. Oh, yeah. I know her. Crap. It’s Rika.

She was the girl I’d liked last year. I had confessed to her and, predictably, she had rejected me. The worst part wasn't even that, but the fact that shortly after, she started going out with one of my friends. Well, ex-friend, I guess. By that point, we had already fallen out and didn't exactly get along.

And now it turns out she was going to be in my very same classroom. How awkward.

It’s not like I still had feelings for her; I just didn't want to spend another school year pretending nothing was wrong every time our paths crossed. Anyway, there wasn't much I could do about it. I wasn't going to switch classes over a girl; that would've been pretty pathetic.

She was looking at the list at the exact same time as me, and when we spot each other, she drops a: —We're together. To which I reply, visibly uncomfortable and with a dry: —Yeah.

Anyway, I’d better head home. I still have a few days of vacation left and a pretty respectable backlog of video games to get through.

The first day of school started, naturally, with my usual lateness. By the time I managed to squeeze into the classroom, my friends had already settled in with other people and, apparently, none of them thought to save a spot for me.

So I did the only thing I could do without completely burying my dignity: I sat alone.

On the outside, I tried to project the image of the classroom's coolest, most mysterious loner. The kind of guy who doesn't need anyone's approval. But on the inside, I was darting side-to-side glances, desperately searching for a familiar face or someone to exchange a word with so I wouldn't feel like a shipwreck survivor.

Then Rika appeared through the door, rushing and even later than me. Class had already started, but instead of looking for an empty seat in the back, she walked straight up to my desk and stopped.

—Can I sit here? —she asked, pointing to the empty desk next to mine.

—Yes —I answered immediately. And as soon as the word left my mouth, I felt the blood rush to my head; it had sounded way too desperate. I corrected myself right away with a faked tone—: I mean... if you want. —Way cooler and more nonchalant.

She looked at me for a second and sat down beside me.

I don’t know what else to say to her. Nor do I think it’s necessary; I’m not obligated to start a conversation with every person who sits next to me.

During class, we didn't exchange a single word. Then the recess bell rings and everyone bolts out with their group of friends.

I figured it’d be like this all year. How wrong I was.

During recess, I find myself walking near the flowerbeds. My friends are laughing and talking with other people, and I have zero intention of going over to beg for their attention. I like walking alone every once in a while.

The truth was very different: I hated being alone.

It hurt to watch my friends hang out without me, how they always seemed to have a thousand things to talk about while I ended up off to the side, pretending to be super busy checking some nonsense on my phone. Sometimes I felt like they were leaving me behind, as if there was suddenly no space left for me among them.

But I would have never admitted that out loud.

I preferred to play it cool, to adopt that lone-wolf persona who goes through life immune to everything. As if isolation were a sophisticated choice and not a silent rejection. I imagined myself as one of those melancholic anime protagonists who walk with their hands in their pockets and seem perfectly at peace with their solitude.

What stupidity. I didn't even know how to be alone without feeling miserable.

I don't know if Rika realized that whole act was a giant farce, or if she just happened to walk by and got genuinely curious. The truth is, in the middle of the noisy courtyard, she walked over and stopped right in front of me.

—Are you okay? —she asked.

It caught me completely off guard. Especially since she had rejected me before and was still going out with my ex-best friend, the exact same guy with whom I now had an unbearable, awkward tension. I didn't understand why on earth she bothered talking to me after everything that had happened between us.

But there she was, staring right at me.

—Are you okay? —she repeated softly.

I did what any fourteen-year-old with a fragile, armored ego would have done: I puffed out my chest and pretended everything was going perfectly.

From that day on, Rika seemed to make a unilateral decision: she wasn't going to let me stay alone.

Every morning, sooner or later, she’d end up showing up by my desk to set up right next to me.

The funny thing is, I never made the first move. Not a single time. Not because I didn't want her company —quite the opposite—, but because pride and embarrassment locked up my throat. Admitting that I was glad to see her would have totally ruined my facade of a relaxed, self-sufficient guy.

So I just stuck to my spot, staring straight ahead and pretending I was way too absorbed in my own thoughts. If she wanted to sit with me, fine; I wasn't going to object.

Deep down, though, I felt a massive wave of relief every time I saw her arrive. I suppose it was much easier to let her take the initiative and then convince myself that it had all been a pure coincidence.

Sometimes I think my middle school days are a perfect loop. I wake up, go to school, half-heartedly greet my friends, head back home, and spend the rest of the afternoon in captivity with my video games. The next day, the exact same millimeter-precise routine.

But it doesn't bother me that much anymore. I think I'm starting to like this life.

Though, come to think of it, lately there's something different. Now, every time I walk through the classroom door, the very first thing I do before sitting down is search for Rika with my eyes.

I don't think it means much. I suppose we're just becoming good friends.

And, honestly, I hope it stays that way for a good long while.