A pang of frustration weighs on her, a headache forming as she hesitates, unsure of how to proceed. She stops filling in the form and skims through its contents. Then, her eyes catch something near the bottom:
"If you require assistance to participate, fill in the box below, and we will help you."
A spark of hope lights within her. Without hesitation, she scrolls up and enters her details. At the last field, she types a few words, then presses confirm. The registration is submitted successfully. She sets down her phone, whistles a cheerful tune, and switches off the lights for bed. As darkness envelops the room, outside her window, perched on a tree across from Pearl's home, a shadowed figure sits idly, shrouded in a long veil of black lace. Their legs dangle, swaying gently, a sly smile creeping onto their lips. Through the large window, their piercing gaze locks onto Pearl's room. The figure pulls out a phone. The screen's glow illuminates half of their eerily pale face, revealing a quiet, sinister chuckle. Their sharp, black-tipped nails tap on the confirmation message displayed on their screen.
Next day, in the morning, Pearl steps into class. As usual, chatter and commotion fill the room as students exchange gossip. Trevor spots her sitting at her desk, engrossed in a book. Without warning, he slaps a hand onto her shoulder, making her jolt in surprise.
"What are you reading, dear friend?"
"Get lost. Let me read in peace."
She swats his hand away.
"So, did you register yet?"
"Oh, Bus No 0? Yeah, I finished signing up."
"Did you get a confirmation checkmark?"
"It just says 'submission successful' when I finish."
Trevor falls silent, his expression shifting into something unreadable. After a sudden shock speechless, he speaks in a lower voice.
"Have you checked your inbox?"
"Huh? I woke up late this morning and rushed out, so I haven't."
Suddenly, Trevor leans in uncomfortably close. His voice is grave.
"Open your email. Right now!"
"Uh… okay. Wait a minute!"
Confused, Pearl complied. Upon opening her inbox, she found an email titled: "Registration Successful: Bus 0." with the contents detailed the meeting time and location. Trevor stared in disbelief. He had registered hours earlier, yet she had succeeded where he had not.
"How… How did you get accepted?"
Pearl blinks in confusion. A sinking feeling forms in her chest as she turns to him.
"Trevor, didn't you say you also signed up?"
"Yeah… but it wasn't successful."
Pearl slams her hand onto the desk, startling the nearby students. Realizing the attention she has drawn, she awkwardly scratches her head, forcing a sheepish smile. Once the curiosity fades and everyone resumes their conversations, she clenches her jaw, glaring at Trevor.
"What are you saying? Are you messing with me?"
"No, I'm serious."
Frustrated, she smacks him hard on the head.
"So I'm going alone?"
"Not necessarily!"
A firm voice interrupts. Pearl turns - and there her crush is. Tate strides toward them, radiating an unusual glow that makes him seem even more dazzling than usual. He approaches their desk, and at once, Pearl's heartbeat slams against her ribs, her cheeks growing hot. She fidgets nervously, unable to keep her composure. Trevor watches with a deadpan expression as his best friend practically melts in admiration. With a sigh, he turns toward Tate, muttering,
"You're going too? Didn't think someone as broody as you would care for this nonsense."
Tate regards Trevor in silence before chuckling. He reaches out and playfully pokes his nose.
"You seem rather concerned about me, huh?"
"Like hell I am!"
If you're going, I might as well take your place.
You'll just kill the mood."*
Pearl's irritation flares. She smacks Trevor's shoulder, scolding,
"You're being ridiculous!"
"Tsk. So this is the real you - choosing romance over friendship," Trevor mutters, pouting.
"Fine. I'm done talking to you."
With an exaggerated stomp, he storms off, leaving the classroom. Tate follows after him, waving casually.
"See you there."
As soon as Tate finishes speaking, he strides out of the classroom. The school bell rings, signaling the end of the lesson. The last two periods unfold in silence, broken only by the soft scratching of pens on paper.
Time passes, and soon, the final bell chimes. Students excitedly sling their bags over their shoulders, eager to leave. Only Pearl stays behind. Today is her turn to clean the classroom, and now she stands alone, sweeping up the remnants of the school day. The dim glow of the afternoon sun filters through the windows, casting elongated shadows on the floor. With the final sweep, she exhales in relief, murmuring to herself,
"Finally done! Just need to pack up, and I can go home."
She grabs her broom, hoists her bag, and heads toward the door. As she walks past the self-study room at the end of the corridor, she hears the faint clatter of chairs shifting inside. Her steps falter. A trace of apprehension grips her as she cautiously approaches. Through the narrow fluttering gap in the curtain, she catches sight of two male students locked in a passionate embrace. Her eyes goggle. Instinctively, she clasps her hand over her mouth, suppressing her reaction. She takes a shaky step backward, retreating. But in her haste, her broom and backpack slip from her grasp, tumbling to the floor. A few items spill out - a result of her poorly zipped bag. Panic surges through her. She flicks her gaze between the fluttering curtain and the scattered belongings, scrambling to shove them back into her bag as quickly as possible. Without a second glance, she bolts before anyone notices her presence. But in her hurried escape, one item remains behind - a Jordan sneaker keychain, a cherished birthday gift from her parents the year before. It lies on the floor, untouched beside the broom handle.