Changin' the Normal

My high school was primarily focused on STEM, which meant that the quantity of class and homework was minimal with an increase of projects and tests. Due to this, I had assumed that I would've seen the girl more often with every test her class took, but I was wrong.

For the rest of April and a little of early May, my time at the garden was solitary – as if the promise had never existed. This wasn't anything weird, since it was what I had wished for when I first discovered the place. If anything, the two times I met with her here were the odd ones out.

Nothing eventful occurred besides a few tests I've taken – and averagely passed – alongside a few run-ins with my two "bullies." They could never hurt me as much as they did on the first day of school, and that was because of my classmate with the heterochromatic hair that typically intervened before any harm was done. I don't know why he bothered helping me – as I told him it'd be better for all parties if he didn't – but he continued doing so.

One day, after being seated at the hedge for two hours, I thought, The tensions of midterms are creepin' up on us. I already know those exams will be tough.
I stood up, stretched my back, and turned around to see the sakura trees presenting their fully bloomed white cherry blossoms. Their dark trunk and branches contrasted by their snowlike petals stretched in every direction.

I picked up my schoolbag and left the garden to the shoe lockers to exchange shoes. My locker was furthest from the front doors due to my family name. Beyond the doors, I walked down the steps that led to the front gate.

At the front of the school were three, polished stone columns that displayed the names of last year's graduates; erected on the last day of school. Surrounding the stones in a rectangular outline were flowerbeds of many different sizes and colors. I would gradually learn the names of all these species.

The bike racks were to the side of the entrance, I grabbed mine and started walking it out of the gate. I would usually start riding my bike once I got onto the main road. On the ride back to my apartment, I normally recited poems in my head as the evening breeze caressed my face.

It was another normal day.

Entering the apartment, I was approached by my younger sister. Usually she wasn't here before me, but it wasn't shocking if she was. It was rather welcoming.

"Kiyo-brother~! You're home now!" she shouted.
I don't think she knew what an inside voice was, as it was in her nature to be loud and extraordinary.

Nevertheless, once she was done yelling inches below my face, I patted her head. Her hair was soft and smelled like chocolate chip cookies; matching well with its color. She greeted me with two grape purple eyes that, I swear, were light sources of their own.

"Mom won't be home for dinner again," she said merrily.
Though I knew how she truly felt about it.
"But~! She did leave some money for another dinner purchase at the food truck!"

"Alrighty then, Muku," I called to her. "Looks like we're in for another night of rolled omelets."

"Yippee~! I'm excited!"
She shook her hands like maracas, skipping along the living room floor. Then she stopped in the center, facing me, and put her feet at shoulder-width with her arms outstretched to look like a star. Putting all her weight into her left foot, she majestically spun in a circle.
"Giddy spin~!" she exclaimed while doing so.

Hands in my pockets, I watched as she perfectly stopped by using her other foot as a break. Her hair and clothes ruffled as they settled down. The contrast between me and Muku was as discernible as night and day; respectively. The only person I could think of matching her ball of sunshine energy was a creature that used sunshine to its benefit, like a butterfly. The girl from the garden came to mind.

The food truck was a five-minute walk from our apartment. We passed a stray white that seemed to be the mascot of the neighborhood. Muku reiterated about how she wanted to adopt it, and I had to remind her that we couldn't afford to do so.

The food truck's rolled omelets were the cheapest on the menu. The line that evening wasn't long either, so we got our food with haste and began walking back to the apartment. We always ate on the way back.

Muku was the talkative one – no surprise there – and I listened. She told me about her day and the hilarious situations her and her friends found themselves in. It was pleasant to listen to, since it told me she hadn't experienced any burdens from her friends yet. It would always stay like that.

➼ ➼ ➼

The following Monday was when I had experienced unusual events that were against my days of normalcy.

It started when I had taken a seat at my desk in homeroom and my classmate with the heterochromatic hair approached me to do something he hadn't done before.

He greeted me with a nonchalant "G'morn'n" as if he had done it before. I looked at him bewilderedly, thinking that he confused me with another student. His hair was parted down the middle, and fluffed around when he sat down candidly and repeated his greeting, this time with my family name. He said it in the Japanese way, with a "Be" pronunciation instead of pressing his top teeth on his lower lip.

Still confused, I greeted him back, of course without his name since I didn't know it. The interaction ended there, as he turned around and took out his phone, and I returned to my morning talk with Swani in my head. For our next three classes, we didn't talk either.

Lunch was still normal, for the most part. There was a minor incident that involved me accidentally bumping into another student. I was walking to class while staring at the floor when a group of students large enough to take up the entire hallway came my way. I tried to go to the side to get out of their way, but one of the students had stepped in my direction too; probably to get out of my way. We collided, but only lightly.

"Sorry, that's my bad."
I had taken the blame for the collision, leaving quickly before anyone could say anything more about the situation. Back in class, I worked on my poetry and, for a reason I hadn't known yet, thought about the flower garden's aroma.

"Another reminder for all you students in clubs: Club activities, except for the environmental club, will be suspended next week for midterm practice," announced the teacher before ending the final class period.

Another unusual event happened when the dismissal bell rang.

"See'ya tomorrow," said my classmate with the heterochromatic hair.
He tapped my desktop and walked away without desiring a reply from me.

I simply watched as he left the classroom. There was no part of me that felt like I needed to state my farewell aloud, so I stayed quiet before exiting to the garden.

The white sakura trees weren't the only change the garden experienced. Most of the flower shrubs along the hedge had bloomed to their full potential; it was like a sea of rainbows. The hedge had grown thicker too, but its branches were often cut to maintain shape. The only thing that hadn't changed since my first arrival here was the butterfly weed shrubbery.

I was going to take my usual spot between the shrubs when the final unusual event occurred: I saw the cover of a book I hadn't seen in practically a month. The familiar white flower and bolded title was all I could see gently placed on the grass where I sat. I knew this meant one thing.

I picked up the calendar book as I sat down.
"Long time, no see," I said.
I had – correctly – assumed that the girl was on the other side of the hedge.

"Hellooo, Poet-kun! We still haven't seen each other, by the way."
I don't think it was necessary for me to describe just how chipper she was anymore. Her lowest setting was some people's highest – me included.
"Did your teacher tell you about midterm practices next week? Mine did, and it made me realize how close it's getting to the actual days. I was feeling nervous."

"You were doin' so well that I nearly forgot about you."

"Awh, you were thinking of me?" she said flirtatiously. "You know a way into a girl's heart, Poet-kun."
She adjusted her posture.
"The truth is that I had come to this garden plenty of times, but I never made it past the narrow passage."

I furrowed my brow.

"I would see you sitting at the hedge, writing or staring up into the sky. I had a lot I wanted to tell you, but just looking at you was enough to make it go away, so I left without ever saying anything to you."

"I see," I responded. "You were casually stalkin' me."
I had been out of contact with people for so long that I didn't know proper reactions. I ignored the warning signs that had told me not to do anything. But she gave me a feeling that warranted a response.

"Don't say it like that. It makes me seem weird."

"Good, that's what you are."

"How could you say that when you don't know me? Or are you saying you know me enough to assume that?"

I knew the response she wanted me to give, so I didn't give it to her.
"Anyone can make assumptions about anythin'. Whether I'm right or not requires me to dig deeper, but I'm fine on the surface."

"With that, let's get started on what we promised. Time to tell you about my crippling anxiety."
Her subject change was abrupt, but I didn't question it.

What she said was no laughing matter; even I knew that. Saying that, there was an amused feeling inside me, but I didn't know why. I found myself with a slight grin. Much of what this girl would make me feel made me respond that way, and that was my fault, not hers.

The unusual events had probably occurred because I would end up meeting with the girl again. With the coming days, my normal would change into anew. I hadn't known it yet, but that's how it would turn out to be.