s e v e n ; hidden scars, invisible wounds

“The speech will consist of whatever topic is important to you. Content does not matter as much as the way you deliver your speech. I will grade you on how you connect with your audience through eye contact. Even though I’m giving you a leeway with your topic, I do not want to hear about how ‘Starbucks is hella wack because they charge you 60 cents per add on.’” The students crack up at our English teacher’s mockery of teenagers’ use of slangs. “Professional and formal words, please. Maximum is 7 minutes per speech. I will subtract points if you go longer than that. It is due in three weeks.”

When Mr. Yang dismisses our class for time to brainstorm, my mind is as blank as the notebook page in front of me. A topic that is important to me? I don’t think I’ve ever been passionate about a topic enough to give a 7 minute speech about it. If I think about it, I haven’t experienced much hardships in life to develop a character-defining issue of my own. My parents are not divorced. We are not well off but we’ve never struggled for money. I don’t have any hobbies or talents where I’m dedicating every minute of my life to pursue. The most talented thing about me is probably coming up with better comebacks when I’m in the shower, after the argument has taken place. My problems always feel so insignificant against what other people are going through. To sum it up, I’m average at best.

Scanning around the room, most of my classmates are jotting down endless notes of what their speech would be, contradicting the way my pen is immobile in my hand. I heave a sigh, a little envious that everyone has something they could talk about for 7 minutes long.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •

Lunch is a bit lonely compared to my previous years. In middle school, every student has the same lunch time. In 9th and 10th grade, Kai and I would share the same lunch schedule except for this year, I have lunch A while he has lunch B. Lincoln High is weird like that, wants us to be divided among each other. But our separate schedules haven’t stopped us from communicating via text.

I pull out my phone, sending him a message. what topic could you talk for at least 7 min about?

Sometimes during my lunch break, I sit in the cafeteria alone and pretend I’m occupied with doing something — whether it’s texting, studying, or reading. It creates an illusion that I’m enjoying my own company, independence and all that. Though in reality, I space out while waiting for Kai to text back, because I didn’t realize how much better having his presence during break was until we didn’t have that anymore. I have acquaintances that I talk to in class, but they have their own set of friends. Nothing too close and personal. I wish I took the time to form closer relationships though, because now my mistake is biting me in the . I’m going to make it a personal goal to make at least one close friend this year.

His delayed message comes 5 minutes later due to the fact he’s in class right now, and trying not to get caught using his phone. Not even 7 minutes. I could spend hours talking about all the times I’ve been right but I pretended that you are right just so we could stop arguing.

oh please. that’s not even true

See? This is what I’m talking about. And why?

english oral assignment, I explain.

Can’t you talk about Coldplay’s whole discography?

technically...i can, but that kinda sounds like something you would do

Another delayed response, Just “kinda”? More like I would absolutely do it. You still don’t know me at all after 5 years of friendship. I think it’s a sign that we should break up.

i also think it’s time we should, I play along.

We tried.

this isn’t working out

You’ve changed.

i think we should see other people, I text him, though I’m thoroughly entertained at our exchange. A smile plastered on my face, because I could totally imagine the way he’s delivering these lines: with cold indifference, despite the way his eyes would be an obvious giveaway to his amusement.

It wasn’t me, it was definitely you.

well then, it’s over

Good riddance.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •

“Haven’t you heard? We aren’t friends anymore,” Kai states when he sees me approaching his car after school. Regardless, I head towards his car after he unlocks the doors and puts his swim duffle bag in the trunk.

I retort, “Yeah, but tell that to my mom because she asks if you could pick my brother up. She’s running late today.”

He buckles his seat belts and begins to reverse out of the parking. “Dang it. I knew it’d be hard to get rid of you. I’ve been trying to for five years.”

The statement makes me laugh. I push him on the shoulder. “Shut up and drive.”

Before we reach Ethan’s school, Kai gives me a rendition of today’s swim practice. Coach Jones was extra moody today and everyone suffered through it, which means they had to do more laps than usual while coach intensely criticizes their forms. He’s extra sore today, he tells me. I tell him about my math teacher whose daughter brought home her boyfriend for the first time last weekend. It was my teacher’s goal to thoroughly embarrass his daughter by bringing up quirks she used to do as a child.

“I would totally do that to my daughter,” Kai comments.

“I bet. You already do that to me.”

He side glances me. Smiles. “True.”

Coming to Ethan’s middle school brings back memories when we used to go to school here. Although we’ve met in elementary school around sixth grade, our middle school years were the turning point in our friendship. We made a pact that we would be each other’s dates for school dances if neither of us have somebody to go with. Every time a slow song comes on, we would have a blast pulling out fast, silly moves instead of embracing each other like the other couples on the dance floor. This earned weird looks from people of course, but when you’re having fun with somebody who makes you feel yourself, you really don’t care about what other people think.

It went well for a couple years until ninth grade where Kai got a girlfriend of his own. Because he was the only one with a date, and I didn’t have one at the time, he was persistent to not let me go alone. They broke up shortly after and the guilt ate at me. Despite how he assured me that they wouldn’t have worked out anyway, I felt responsible for their splitting. The last thing I want to do is come between somebody’s relationship, especially my best friend’s. The following year, when he dated Mina, I made up multiple excuses in order for him to go with her. I pretended that I wasn’t feeling well and that my cramps for acting up that following week of winter formal. It worked. While Kai, Mina, and everyone else were enjoying their night at the dance, I threw a one woman party of my own—which consists of me dancing along to my playlists and having a movie marathon.

“Remember when we would look forward to when school ended because of the ice cream truck?” Kai reminisces. My head nods, thinking back about the times we would spend our allowance on snacks.

There are barely any presence left at school, since it ends thirty minutes earlier than our high school. “I wonder where’s Ethan.” I admit my slight worry after ten minutes of waiting. He’s not stationed in front of the main school gate like the small of students expecting to be picked up. Kai suggests that we split up to look for him inside the school, and calls the other if one of us sees him. I take the east side of the building as Kai carries his way to the west side. It’s a little odd that my brother hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe he had a really bad stomach ache and went to the nurse? I head towards the office, Mrs. Keeler types away at her keyboard, her attire similar to when I last went to school here—a top-knotted bun and spotting metal glasses, looking strictly concentrated.

“Excuse me.” She tears her eyes away from the screen. There’s no recognition in her gaze, assuming she doesn’t remember me. It’s understandable, since I don’t look the same as I did in 8th grade, and she most likely has seen too many faces these past years. “Has a boy named Ethan came to the nurse office? His hair is long and around this tall.”

“Sorry honey, the nurse left early today. No one of that description came to our office since school ended.” She gives me an apologetic smile. I thank her