Perfect

“I… am… Ethan Lello… Col…chester.” A lad uttered holding his sling bag firmly and tightly over his body, in front of people questioned by his mind.

“He will be your new classmate, students. Mr. Colchester is from James Chadwick’s Academy for Sciences and Arts in France. He will be with all of you for the rest of the school year and probably the rest of his high school life.” the homeroom teacher, Ms. Adreanne Johannes announced. “Ethan, please be seated.”

The student shined like a rusted coin, reflecting judging stares from unknown entities around him. The first seconds seems normal, untampered, immaculate. As the clocked ticked in silence, he sat momentarily on his chair at the farthest corner of the brightly lighted room. His seat signifies his fusion with the class, camaraderie yet as he sat, he hears a whisper he expects to hear; something that sounded “day” or “gray”.

“Turn your books on page 231 and read the Aufbau Rule on Electron Configuration. Afterwards, we’ll have an elimination for the Regional Science Quiz Bee. Be ready… good luck!” the teacher quoted in a quite exaggerated tone.

There is a sudden rush of excitement in Ethan’s sanity. He felt partially convenient but partially awkward. He felt or thought of a usual thing students use to respond; he thought, someone might react significantly, insolently. The paranoid thought bothered him hard; lingering him continuously that last several moments.

Minutes later, not exactly as the teacher said, Ms. Johann came in with a ton of gray colored mimeographing papers that blew off a dust cloud as it slammed the table.

Ethan’s heart beats faster than an abnormal adrenaline rush. His heart pounds not only to remind him of criticism but of failure. He was afraid of failing though he himself knows his standards and abilities though he always doubted it. He cringes silently in front of a wide bulletin board, brown in hue, unfashionable to be a background, dark and vintage as if pasting him on it. Little by little, second by second, the paper neared him and finally on his arm, he sighed. Ethan uttered a phrase he can only hear “This… is it.”

Words, fragments, formulas, he scribbled each answer; writing with such reason and logic. Carefully, he ended the exam with not much of a difficulty yet in doubt and dilemmas. Looking, observing and reviewing his answers back to back his test paper, he looks for misspelled or blanks and hopefully he found none.

“Pass your paper forward class. We’ll check it afterwards with your row by the left.” Ms. Johann announced and followed up a sarcastic phrase “I hope Mr. Colchester can pass.”

Ethan smirked a bit. He knew as a writer, something underlies beyond her statement. He sat too firm, closing his legs, compressing his body has he pointed a pair of fingers on his forehead, abdomen, two shoulders and lips.

The papers flung randomly from desk to desk. Ethan looked for his paper, glancing as far as his eyes can reach. He felt clueless and despair as he had already lost hope finding his. He prayed for the result, thanked God who helped him finish the paper that can change his fate of being discriminated to the person who people will admire.

After checking, and minutes of typical scenarios inside a typical classroom, talking, talking, and a lot more talking, the teacher stood preparing to announce Ethan’s awaited statement.

“I picked the top 3 students who will compete for the Regionals; Rachelle with a perfect score, Ethan who got 1 mistake and Enid with the same as well.”

“Did I hear his name? The newbie passed?!” a voice interrupts.

Ethan turned cold. He knew it was going to happen. His eyes widened as it looked downwards. He was waiting for the next thing to occur.

“Yes he did Arsenal. Why? Any problem with someone passing?” the teacher answered not looking directly to her students as she arranged her papers in a not so joyful manner. Ethan did not mind her demeanor. All he did was smile and rejoice on his head, congratulating himself every time he smiles.

As he finished his kindling achievement, he looked for his acquaintances, Rachelle and Enid. He looked around him silently. He tried and saw a girl with a thick, straight, princess-cut hairstyle. She as well has glasses like Ethan. Her black rimmed round glasses covers her eyes from the outside world. Her demeanor was calm. Her face was serene as not any other girls in the school would look. Ethan looked for her I.D. and saw her name as “Jasmine Enid Lerwick”. Ethan smiled. He felt himself in Enid’s persona. He though that they may be friends before the competition. Ethan felt his glasses moisturize. He wiped it with a velvet cloth inside his sling bag and as he puts his glasses down, he caught a glimpse of someone staring. His vision was a bit blurred so he asked himself, who was it, why was it or what was it.

Time crawled its way through, teachers come and go the classroom, notes written then erased more than enough. Ethan wrote them all without hesitation. His blue ball pen wrote not just his lectures but scribbled random dots on his palm no matter how smooth his palms can be. He finished the lecture and looked around if anyone finished faster than him. All he saw was students still writing the three-paged lecture except for the girl with princess-cut hair.

Enid reads a novel by her hand. Ethan does as well. He did expect that Enid was a bookworm. He was never wrong at people. He does things more of as the time or opportunity demands. He thinks of a poem, a poem that reflects his feeling right now.

He pulls a notebook out of his leather sling bag. He flipped through the pages that were filled with thousands of ideas. His poetry was not recognizable. It appeared awkward to others. No one understands them whenever someone reads them, criticizing them as somewhat weird or odd. Anyway, Ethan never stopped expressing himself. He wrote a fragment on a blank page “Sakura’s Sorrow”.

“Of nights so dark, so blue, so bleak,
Of Cherry Blossom’s shaded pink.”

His gibberish penmanship was not as graceful as his words were. The Sakuras in Japan popped on his head. Those trees usually depict calmness, perfection. The ambiance was cold yet warm. The complexity changed rapidly over and over again. The night covers the perfection Cherry Blossoms have in day. The coldness and silence was not as fragile as the world of those Cherry Blossoms as the bell rang and roared the hallways.

“I need that homework by tomorrow afternoon. Dismissed.” The teacher remarked as the students aimed for the door like a hoard of wildebeests raging out of an open space. Ethan was never shocked. He was left alone inside the room arranging his books to be put inside his locker. His sweat rolled down his cheeks making his glasses slip down his nose once in a while.

Ethan walked outside carrying four books, too big for his sling bag. He walked, facing the floor downwards, covered by his books as his eyes navigated, looking for his locker. The location did not dismay him much. Hence, it even made him more comfortable. He got out a number key with the number “926” embedded on it. He continued searching for a locker with the number 926 on it. On his way were students, some stares at him, some just go fly with the crowd. Ethan trotted and arrived at his locker and left out a loud sigh.

Opening it, a dull vacant gray space welcomed him. Ethan arranged his books in ascending order; from the latest to the out-dated. Those were novels and poem compilations and other textbooks about Chemistry, Physics and History. He finished and stared at it. He remembered the statement his classmates at Chadwick Academy would usually remark “The Library at the Locker Room.”

Ethan then clipped random posters like the one Chris Colfer is in and other things. He put a pair of shirts and 3 scarves for the record. His things designed the locker, giving it more life than earlier.

As he finished doing his thing, he turned to eat by the canteen, alone. He turned to his 6-pack brownies, 4 Light Cream Milk Chocolate Mousse and 2 Heavy Caramel Chiffon Brownies. The aroma lingered him, sweeter than his life.

Ethan munched in great delight, showing a bright simple smile on his face once in a while. He was obsessed with brownies as much as he is obsessed with his hair. Those things always reminded him of being unique. Those brownies may have various flavors yet each has a brighter side to like.

“May I sit down with you Ethan?”

“Yes… Yes you may.” He replied bashfully revealing his normal feminine voice; a bit high pitched to be specific.

“I came here at Walter High the previous week. I am a newbie as well. I am not familiar with the environment. It seems hard for me, having too much difficulty around. Ethan, may I…”

“Yes… Yes you can but I cannot help you. I did not expect you’d be that illogical.”

“I don’t have a choice! I’m left with you.”

“I am afraid Georges but I cannot help you with you adapting to the environment. I am just a loser. What can I do?” munching on his caramel brownie.

“No you aren’t! no loser can pass that elimination with not much of a difficulty.” Frince’s voice turned up the volume a bit, heating up the argument or flattering Ethan I should say.

“Determining your rank is not about numerations or formulas you can get from textbooks or from the internet. It is not as what those mythologies with magical glitters determine. I am a loser. You don’t need to change that… fact.”He said from a fast monotone to slowing down with a sigh. “Look, your handsome, you don’t need me, a lad who dresses like a raspberry brownie coated with whipped cream all over.”
Georges became silent. He was astounded by Ethan’s quote.

“Life is not easy. It is only like a second-hand damaged Mercedes-Benz on the sidewalk towed by a rusted tow truck. I’ve heard those comments before. ‘you are perfect’, ‘you are a winner’ but nothing seems true. Everything seemed nothing. Their praises just seems an elegy by Robert Frost presented on a baptismal reception.”

“Seems that means a…”

“No. you can sit down. Accept my apologies, Georges.” Ethan said, looking downwards at his chocolate float with choco fudge over. His thoughts were as dark as it, as if a mirror to his heart.

“Sorry.” Frince said silently. “I recommend you this.” He said as he hands over a pair of chord sheets to Ethan.

“What is this?”

“That is my favorite. I used to sing that but I cannot reach the right pitch. I think you can.” He said
with a smile.

“Thank… you.” Ethan replied as he looked down and saw titles like “Defying Gravity from Wicked”

“Thank you for believing.”

The bell rang for the first time. Ethan started packing up as Frince left him a while ago.

Ethan walked to his locker, getting his scarf for his next class. He trotted.

He clothed himself with a white turtleneck suited with red velvet double breasted blazer. Ethan looked like a White Chocolate cake with strawberry icing all over. As he smiles, he noticed a presence behind him. He felt uneasy. He felt scared once more. Upon his expectations, the presence talked and introduced herself; “Konnichiua. Watashi wa… Enid... chan.”