ALWAYS BE MY BABY

Maya's P.O.V

The morning sunbeams peeked through the clouds and cascaded onto my blinds, indicating that it was the morning. I rolled over to check the time on my phone.

6:45 am.

That means I had precisely forty-five minutes until the bus came. The first thing I do every morning is open my window, taking in the fresh morning air. After my short therapeutic session finishes, my typical morning routine begins as I fumble my way to the toilet to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Once I finished getting ready, I headed downstairs for breakfast. The kitchen was an absolute battlefield with mom stirring chocolate chip pancake batter and cutting up fruits at the same time.

"That's a lot of food for just breakfast," I said.

She shook her head in denial. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

With a defeated exhalation, I dug into the pile of food onto the table. Fifteen minutes have passed and I was finally cleaning my last place. My mom wouldn't let me leave the table unless I ate all my food. She was a strong believer in finishing plates to fight against food wastage.

By the time I reached the bus station, the driver was already heading away. I picked up my speed and managed to bang on the side of the bus, signaling the driver to stop. When I walked up to the bus, I felt the stares directed towards me, making me feel uneasy.

I absolutely hated being late. I hate it when people turn and stare, like I was some sort of abnormal creature stumbling into class. That's exactly why I was so obsessive when it came to waking up and leaving at the right time to make sure I wasn't late.

Today wasn't any different, apart from the fact that my mom made a whole feast for breakfast and wouldn't let me leave until I finished my food.

I searched for an empty seat, making my way there and sliding off my bag. As I settled down, I realized that I was completely out of breath and panting like I've just ran a whole marathon. I needed to exercise more often.

My schedule today started with Mathematics, then Spanish, Literature then ending the day off with Science.

The day went by in a flash, mostly with my head buried in my notebook as I hurriedly took notes as the teacher spoke. Everyone seemed to be relaxing, some on their phones, and the rest barely paying any attention.

The sound of the bell filled my ears as Spanish class ended. I made my way to Literature with Ms. Doris Wilson, one of the strictest teachers in the school. Unlike all the other teachers, she didn't have a good list. She treated everyone with the same stern manner and held a strong belief in putting in the effort to receive the desired outcome.

I admired her passion for literature, amazed at how she could speak for hours and highlight so much meaning from just a simple text. Ms. Wilson cut my thoughts short as she cleared her throat. I looked up, appalled that she had called me out.

I lowered my face to hide from all glances directed towards me, praying that this nightmare would be over soon.

She points at the question on the board then turns back to me, one eyebrow raised and impatiently waiting for me to come up to the board. My body tenses as I gather all the strength I had and stood up.

If there was one thing I feared the most, it was attention. While most people crave for it, I despised it. I never quite understood what gains did being in the center of attention have, apart from pressuring you to be perfect. It all came down to confidence, which as an introvert, I had none of.

As if things weren't bad enough, I hear faint sneers from the front of the room gradually getting louder as I make my way up. It was the group of jocks, whispering to each other. I felt self-conscious, positive that they were talking about me. Panic filmed over my vision as I try to look away, avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

My suspicions were confirmed when I heard a voice groan. "Anytime now."

I pressed my lips together as I mentally curse myself for being so shy and weak. Ethan Morrison nudged the guy and told him to shut it, which made my stomach twist in knots. For the Captain of the football team and the most popular guy in school, he was awfully humble.

It seemed like forever until I made it to the board. The pen was shaking in my hand, but I somehow managed to scribble down the answer. I whipped around and sprinted back to my seat, making eye contact with Ethan on the way back.

Ms. Wilson checked the answer, and her lips curled upwards, satisfied with my response. "Please pay attention next time."

I sink in my seat while she continues her lecture.

Finally, I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath to calm down, forcing myself to breathe in and out slowly. Not long later, the bell rang, and immediately, everyone stood up and packed their things.

"We'll continue next class," Ms. Wilson says before wiping the board clean.

I put my books into the bag and headed out of the room. Three minutes later, I was in the canteen and lining up for the food. A tap on my shoulders startled me as I turned around to see Leah widely grinning at me. For a Monday, she was definitely excited.

We sat on our usual table on the side of the cafeteria. For as long as I could remember, this had always been the one that we sat at. The table in the middle, right at the center of attention, was reserved for the popular kids, meaning the jock and cheerleaders.

"How was Ms. Wilson's class?" Leah chirped, placing her tray onto the table.

"Horrible, she made me come to write on the board."

"You mean she called you out?" Leah jokingly gasped, pretending like it was the worst thing ever. Of course, she wouldn't understand the horror of having twenty pairs of eyes simultaneously looking at you. I could only wish to have a fraction of her confidence.

Her lips twitched into a small grin as I shot her a look. "I can't believe Maya Connors, the girl with straight A's, got called out for misbehaving."

"I wasn't misbehaving, just daydreaming."

"And not taking notes?" She opened her mouth slightly, "that's a crime in your world!"

"I'm not kidding. It was dreadful, the jocks were laughing at me," I informed her, frowning.

"God, during times like this makes me wish I was in your class to shut those dickheads up."

This was why I loved her. She was always there for me, as my protector. And that made me extremely happy.

"Well, Ethan did tell them them to shut it," I said, my mind replaying the moment over and over again.

"He's a nincompoop," Leah said, popping the p.

I laughed, amused by her choice of word. God, she was weird.

"Yeah, a very cute nincompoop," I explained, glancing over my shoulders. Thank God, nobody heard me.

I looked around the cafeteria, my gaze automatically darting towards Ethan's crowded table. There was a mixture of cheerleaders and jocks, but my attention was solely on Ethan. He looked effortlessly handsome as he sat on top of the table, his legs rested on the bench. He was joking around with the boys, occasionally smiling, which revealed his cute pair of dimples.

Leah caught me staring at their table as she rolled her eyes at me. "They're all full of themselves. I bet when they wake up, the first thing they do is check in the mirror to see how good looking they are."

Probably not Ethan, I thought to myself. He wasn't like the rest of them.

Why was I defending someone that I didn't even know? Better yet, he probably didn't even know my name. Instead of protesting, I stayed silent to stop any further discussions about this topic.

The last thing I needed was to talk more about some meaningless action of Ethan's. He probably just felt bad that a shy girl was getting picked on so being the nice guy he is, he told his friends to stop.

She watched me like I was a puzzle, but I wasn't even thinking that much. Was I?

"So, are you going on that trip to Europe?" Leah asked, placing her elbows onto the table and eating her sandwich.