Kai was an early riser. By the time I was out of the door, he was already waiting for the elevator.

“That doesn’t work.” He turned around, surprised.

“You’re up really early,” he said. “Isn’t the local school just five minutes from here?”

“I go to another school.”

“Oh. I do too.” We walked down the long, creaking staircase, conscious of each other’s presence. Outside the apartment building, clouds hung overhead, masking the sky.

“The bus stop is over there,” I said, pointing to an obscure pole hidden behind a large trashcan. The bus came only came along every hour. He squinted at the stop, and whistled.

“Which direction are you walking?”

“Straight. For about an hour or so.”

“I’ll just walk with you then. My school’s around there.”

“It might rain. The bus would probably be a better choice.” I walked slowly, giving him a last chance. He tagged along, rolling his eyes.

“Why don’t you take the bus?”

“I like walking,” I said flatly. Candor was my only redeeming virtue, but it was a double edged sword. Kai, unlike some others, didn’t seem put off by my brusqueness. He walked along, dragging his feet along. Twice, he tripped on flat ground.

“I’m not awake yet,” he clarified, when I looked at him. The streets were slowly filling with people, but there was a sense of sleepy drowsiness that permeated the greyness of the day. We walked past a bakery, and Kai looked in longingly. He paused by the doorway.

“I haven’t had breakfast,” he said, “so can we go in for a bit?”

“Sure.” I was still ridiculously early, so I didn’t mind. The bakery was tiny, tucked in between two questionable stores. The bell jingled as we walked in, and a burly woman greeted us with alacrity from behind the counter. I followed after Kai, who looked around in ecstasy. He latched onto the glass display case and ordered a piece of everything that was strawberry flavored. The store owner was overjoyed. 

“I thought you liked apple,” I said later, when we were out on the street. He took a thoughtful bite of a cream puff.

“But you like strawberry, right?” he asked, taking a piece of cake out of the bag. “Have one.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” The main reason I didn’t eat breakfast was because I didn’t know how to cook.

“That’s really unhealthy, you know?” He waved the cake in front of my nose. “Just take a bite.”

Tentatively, I took a bite. It was delicious. I knew it. He knew I knew it.

“Here,” he said, smirking.

“Thanks.”

We both stopped when we reached the public school.

“Bye,” I said, giving him a slight wave. He stared at me.

“What school do you go to?” he asked.

“The English private school near here.”

“Really? Me too.” For perhaps the first time, we searched for something contradictory in each other that went beyond superficial appearances and prejudices. He broke away first, looking down at the ground and then at the sky.

“Conditions, right?” His tone was lofty, almost flippant.

“Conditions.”

We were all entitled to privacy. Kai, I was glad to find, seemed to understand that fact just as well as I did.