It was Thursday. The hallway buzzed with voices as students poured out of their classrooms for recess. Monica stood by the door of her classroom, clutching her water bottle with both hands, her thoughts racing.
She had asked Lynx for the printed paper yesterday. He said he forgot it. Again.
Monica had smiled and said it was fine, but that wasn't how she really felt. This wasn't the first time he forgot. He always seemed distracted or tired lately, and while she didn't want to nag him, the deadline for the assignment was creeping closer.
"I'll just remind him now," she whispered to herself. But as soon as she turned toward Omega class, her confidence crumbled.
She couldn't go alone.
The thought of facing Lynx in front of his classmates made her chest tighten. She didn't want people to think she was being clingy or suspicious. What if they teased her? What if Lynx was cold like the other day?
"Hey, you guys wanna come with me to Omega?" she asked two of her classmates casually, pretending it was no big deal.
"Sure," one of them replied. "What for?"
"I just wanna ask something from Lynx."
They raised their eyebrows at each other but followed her without saying anything more.
As they walked down the corridor, Monica kept her pace slow. Her heart pounded. She felt ridiculous—why was she so nervous over something this small?
When they reached Omega class, her eyes scanned the room from the doorway.
There he was—slouched at his desk, fast asleep.
And he wasn't even wearing the school uniform.
Instead, he wore the wrinkled class t-shirt from last year's sports day. She immediately remembered him mentioning the other day: "I forgot to wash my uniform again." She hadn't thought he was serious.
The class was noisy, packed with students eating, laughing, and moving around. Monica hesitated at the door, her fingers gripping her bottle tighter.
"I'll get him," said Ave, her classmate, noticing Monica's hesitation.
Monica gave her a grateful glance. "Thanks."
Ave stepped into the classroom and gently called out, "Lynx."
Nothing.
She tried again, a little louder. Still nothing.
Finally, Monica took a step forward herself and walked up to him.
"Lynx?" she called softly, tapping his desk.
His eyelids fluttered open, barely.
"No," he mumbled.
Monica blinked. "What do you mean no? I didn't even ask anything yet."
He muttered again, "No," and turned his face away, attempting to go back to sleep.
Trying not to laugh awkwardly in front of the others, Monica crouched beside his desk.
"Did you bring the paper?"
"No."
"What time did you sleep last night?"
"No."
"Are you sleepy?"
"No."
"Sick?"
"No."
"Headache?"
"No."
He didn't even look at her directly. It was like his mind wasn't fully here.
She stood up slowly, glancing at her classmates who were waiting near the door, looking amused but trying to stay polite. Monica felt a heat creeping up her cheeks. Her gut told her to leave before things got more awkward.
"Alright… I'll ask again later," she said softly.
He didn't respond.
They walked back together, and her friends teased her a bit, but nothing too harsh. Still, Monica's mind wasn't at ease. Something about Lynx today felt… off. He wasn't just sleepy—he looked exhausted.
By afternoon, the school hours dragged on. Monica had an extra Science Computer class after lunch break. Normally, she liked coding and software tasks, especially since they got to use the computers—but today her mind wasn't focused. She kept glancing at the clock, seated at the back of the computer lab.
Around halfway through class, she remembered Lynx mentioning something earlier that week—he was supposed to retrieve his phone from the discipline room soon.
Her curiosity got the better of her.
She slowly raised her hand. "Teacher, can I go to the toilet?"
The teacher gave her a short nod without looking up from his screen.
Instead of heading to the toilet, she tiptoed out and made her way toward the Omega class. Her heart beat faster with every step. She was hoping—somehow—that she'd catch him.
And there he was, just stepping out of the classroom.
Perfect timing.
"Lynx!" she called.
He turned, rubbing his eyes.
Monica approached. "Hey. About your phone. Did you go get it?"
He shook his head slowly. "I'm on my way now."
"Do you… know where the discipline room is?"
"No."
"I'll show you."
He didn't say anything, but walked alongside her as they headed to the lower floor. The air felt humid, and their footsteps echoed in the mostly empty corridor.
Monica took a breath. "Do you have enough money to pay the fine?"
"Maybe not. I'm not sure."
Her eyes widened. Then she remembered—I still owe him money.
"Wait here," she said quickly and ran off, dashing back to the computer lab. She nearly knocked over a chair getting into her bag, pulled out the folded cash, and hurried back to where she left him.
He was still standing there, waiting.
She handed him the money without a word. He took it with a small nod.
The two of them arrived at the discipline room. Lynx went inside while Monica sat on a nearby bench. The school had a strict rule—no phones during school hours. So she just waited in silence, tapping her fingers against her knee.
She wanted to scroll through her phone to pass the time, but she couldn't. Phones were prohibited, even during extra class time, especially near the staff offices. So she just sat there, staring at the floor, glancing at the hallway every few minutes.
The minutes passed. Five. Ten. Fifteen.
Still no sign of him.
She didn't mind. Somehow, waiting for him made her feel peaceful. Like she wasn't just another student rushing around.
Finally, he walked out.
But he didn't see her. He just turned and walked off like nothing happened.
Monica stood up quickly and rushed to catch up. "Lynx!"
He turned, looking surprised. "Oh. I didn't see you."
"So? How did it go?"
"They said I can only get it next week."
"Oh… alright." She gave a small nod. "Thanks for trying."
He shrugged lightly, as if he didn't care much either way.
"Bye," she added softly before turning around.
He didn't reply.
She hurried back to the computer lab, trying not to smile. Even though nothing big happened, even though he didn't say much—she felt warm.
Maybe it was the way he waited. Maybe it was just the feeling of walking beside him, doing something small. Or maybe it was just how her heart had quietly chosen him.