Celline didn't budge. She didn't even bother to sit up straight. "My phone's dead," she answered flatly, her lie completely half-hearted.
"Dead or turned off?" Bright had already reached their desk, pulling an empty chair from the front row and spinning it around to sit facing Celline.
The scent of Bright's overly sharp cologne immediately filled the air, making Nazma wince slightly. He was truly the type of guy who wanted everyone to know the exact moment he arrived.
"Both. Why? You got a problem?" Celline raised an eyebrow, challenging him.
Instead of backing down, Bright's smile only widened. He glanced at Nazma for a split second—before returning to worship the view in front of him. "So fierce. I just wanted to ask, what did you have for breakfast? Because your beauty has lasted since last night."
Nazma almost choked on her own saliva hearing that cheesy pick-up line. She glanced at Celline, whose expression had become as flat as the pavement.
"I had nails for breakfast, Bright. Want some?" Celline replied curtly.
"Sure, as long as you're the one feeding me," Bright answered shamelessly.
Talitha shouted from the back, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at Bright. "Hey, class started two hours ago. Go back to your habitat, Bright! The special class doesn't need a head-case like you!"
Bright caught the paper nimbly, then laughed out loud. His laughter completely filled the room, a sharp contrast to the silent corridor outside that was usually strictly guarded by the on-duty teachers at nine o'clock.
Nazma could only stay silent, feeling like a front-row spectator in an unwanted comedy drama. She glanced at Zemiro's seat which was still empty, or was Zemiro already somewhere else, quietly watching this commotion with a furrowed brow?
Suddenly, Bright's previously confident face turned stiff. He looked at the wall clock, then back at Talitha who was still glaring at him. "Nine-oh-one?" he muttered quietly, his voice rising an octave due to sudden panic.
He just remembered. There was a quiz in the first hour of the special class today, and his teacher—Mr. Wisnu—was famous for having zero tolerance for those who were even a breath late.
"I'm dead! That bald guy must be ready to eat someone alive at the door," Bright exclaimed without a filter.
His wide grin vanished, replaced by a comical look of confusion.
"He's old, stingy with grades, and loves scolding students in the morning. A total grandpa who needs a vacation," Bright grumbled while hurriedly fixing his bag strap that was slipping off his shoulder.
Without further ado, he looked at Celline with a 'we'll-continue-this-later' gaze.
"I'm out before that bald guy's horns get any longer! Don't miss me! Nazma, take care of this 'maung' of yours, okay." he shouted as he turned around and ran headlong out of the classroom.
"He really has a loose mouth, Naz," whispered Celline.
Suddenly, Nazma was reminded of the 'aing maung, aing macan' trend. In her head, she imagined a giant white tiger leaping gallantly and baring its shimmering white fangs.
Without waiting for a reply, Bright turned and ran headlong out of the classroom.
The sound of his shoes clashing against the corridor floor sounded noisy, growing more distant as his shadow disappeared around the corner.
Leaving behind a strange silence after the storm of his voice.
Celline only snorted, rolling her eyes again. "See, Naz. Idiot. Already knew he was late, yet he still made time to drop by and talk trash," she said while tidying her hair that wasn't messy at all.
Nazma could only shake her head. The class became quiet again, leaving behind the scent of Bright's perfume still lingering in the air.