Work Text:
“But God is telling you and I that there is death, for all of us~” — Strangers , Ethel Cain.
Her earbuds had barely slipped into the first verse when something jostled her from the edge of sleep. Her cheek was pressed to the cool varnish of the desk, and the classroom hung in that strange, airy quiet left behind when all the teachers vanished for yet likely another urgent meeting at least she thought, to wrestle with the government’s latest round of baffling regulations.
She did not care.
“Oh my God. Again,” she muttered into her arms, though the words were muffled enough to be swallowed by the fabric of the green checkered uniform.
When she lifted her head, the boy was standing there, the corners of his mouth twitching with the effort of holding back a laugh. She blinked away the lingering fog of sleep, watching him as he delivered his usual line.
“The teacher’s coming, Ret!” he announced, voice bubbling with false alarm.
He was lying, of course. He always was. His playful deceit, her exaggerated indignation. Sometimes she would even feign anger, sharp enough to make him proud of holding his laughter in, proud of his own mischief. Was it wrong to indulge him like that? Perhaps. But if she stayed silent, the exchange would wither into something flat, almost lifeless.
The truth was, she didn’t mind his interruptions. What worried her was the act itself, the daily masquerade she performed for him, for all of them.
She was convinced she knew herself better than anyone. Then again, there were moments when even she doubted that certainty. Most days, she had no desire to speak to anyone. Yet she remained the bright, silly, endlessly likable girl everyone adored. The role clung to her like a costume sewn too tightly, yet she kept it on. There was a certain impulse in her. A quiet compulsion urged her to keep performing this role. As a senior she moved through the halls with easy confidence and was admired by nearly everyone. She sat on the student council and carried the weight of an important position. Her name was known in every corner of the school, or so people believed.
The teachers knew her too, or at least they thought they did. She could speak to anyone regardless of age or authority. Her manner was always open and unguarded. She thrived on activity and was drawn to competitions and debates. Her energy spilled into every conversation. She was nice to everyone. Boys and girls made no difference to her. Sometimes her charm came close to flirtation, though it was never deliberate. She simply wanted to satisfy the expectations placed upon her. She seemed to meet them with ease, yet the truth was that the effort often drained her more than she would admit.
“Delvin!” She managed to run and chase him, he liked it, she knew exactly how he wanted it. He leapt onto the small stage at the front of the classroom, stepping up as though it were the height of his glory, circling around to the sound of the class’s noisy chatter.
“All right, all right… you’re quite fast for a girl,” he said.
For a girl. What did he know about girls and their capabilities? she thought as she processed to pretend that statement was a compliment coming from a man. The flicker of irritation on her face was brief but sharp, something that might have betrayed her if he had been quicker to notice. By the time he blinked, she had already gathered herself, disguising it with ease.
“Thank you! You are pretty annoying” She stated. Delvin burst out laughing, delighted, his face lit with the kind of happiness that looked almost childlike. He smiled as if she had given him exactly the answer he had hoped for.
“Well I know I am” He smiled.
Boys, she thought. So easy to satisfy, so desperate not to be embarrassed.
The school bell rang at last. Renata thought it should have rung much earlier, perhaps even before the day had begun so she might have left before it all started. She gathered her things, did a little talk with all her friends as if the conversations were items on a list to be crossed off.
It might have sounded harsh, but life itself often felt like a string of chores. TikTok streaks, the good-morning texts, the endless cycle of updates and replies. None of it seemed so different from the housework her mother once assigned, sweeping the floor or scrubbing the dishes. Life was basically the same thing over and over. She didn’t know when it would stop, but she kept repeating the motions while waiting for it to be over.
“Renata!” a voice called from outside the classroom. It was high-pitched, unmistakably Nindi’s.
“Hey, are you coming tonight?” Nindi asked. She was talking about the movie plan they had made with their friends earlier, though Renata still felt unsure about it.
“Of course,” Renata replied. “Are you kidding? This is one of the highest-rated movies everyone’s been talking about— Siang: Your Wife from the Future. ”
“I was just making sure,” Nindi said, grinning. “You guys seem so excited for it! Well, of course, me too.”
Renata smiled back. Wrong. She wanted to watch Superman.