"No, I'm not." He looked around.
I looked around, too. It was sunset again, and I was standing in front of my own teacher and talking to him as if I was not a student. It was really in trouble if anyone would hear how I respond to my teacher.
"But, Sir, I think that's not possible. I am still your student, and anyone would suspect that you're giving me a favor if you'll be my tutor."
"That's why I ask you to be my assistant."
"Even though, Sir." I looked at him again. "Being an assistant or being a tutor, that means a big trouble."
"I will pay you."
Pay me? Is he serious, when I should be the one paying him if he'll be my tutor? I just smiled and shook my head. "Please let me be, Sir. This quarter is almost done. I will study hard to prove that I could pass Math without a tutor."
"I don't mean you'll be dependent on my service, I mean I'll help you in topics that you find difficult to understand. That's the teacher's job."
"Then..." I blinked twice. "Why would you want me to be your assistant?"
"The faculty had a lot of work lately, and I need help. This is my first work, so I'm still growing as a teacher. No one is qualified to be my assistant except you."
"With all the students...?"
"Yes, with all the students, I know that I could count on you whenever I need help."
I thought for a while. His offer was quite tempting, but I should consider the consequences I face if I accept it.
One week before Christmas. The loud music that came from large speakers that stood on the four corners of the classroom was gibberish, as the operator increased the volume that made my heart worked harder. But the increased in volume made my classmates gone wilder than earlier.
There were lots of decorations hanging from the ceiling, usually stickers of lanterns, and most were pictures. The pictures were my classmates' wacky faces, that's what the boys laughed at as the girls tried to remove those hanging pictures in embarrassment.
I saw the photos earlier when I entered the classroom. They were already hanging. I did not know where the class officers got the photos, but they might have snapped on social media. Yesterday, we were not in school because it was a holiday, and the class president asked permission last Monday that they would decorate the classroom during the holiday so that by Friday, everything would be ready for a fun party.
It would have been okay, but as I looked at the photos one by one, I didn’t even see my face in them. I went around the room two more times to see where my photo was, but I could not find it. There was a pang in my heart. I felt like I didn't really belong to that class because they didn’t even hang my photo.
I tried to smile every time I cross paths with my classmates, but they did not even glance at me. They chatted happily with their colleague, so I hurried back to the corner of the classroom.
I just grabbed a juice in pack and went back to my seat there in the corner. It was better to be alone than to be the target of bullies. I did not want to experience again what I had gone through in the past.
It was last year. It was a night full of laughter, a night where I and my former classmates came together to celebrate our Christmas party. There was no problem with that party, not until I accidentally slapped one of my classmates, as they turned my night into horror when they made fun of me.
They edited a picture of me lying next to a pig, where my body was completely covered in mud. They teased... I was a pig because I was poor. So I could no longer restrain myself. I slapped the girl who approached me, who tried to sprinkle the chocolate drink over my body.
She fell on the floor and soon wept aloud. The classroom became quiet, so her cries were heard even louder. Soon, the teacher came in and took me to the guidance office while the girl I slapped was taken to the clinic, even though there was only a print of my hand left on her cheek.
The principal, as well as the teacher and guidance counselor, reprimanded me. They shouted at me as if I were deaf. They forced me to bow in front of the girl I slapped, forced me to apologize, and they forced me to promise that I would never do what I did, because otherwise my scholarship would be revoked, and I would be forced to pay all the tuition fees for the past two years.
It was still clear to my memory what happened after — a woman wearing expensive clothes and jewelry entered the clinic. And suddenly that woman slapped me hard. I fell on the floor because of the force she used. My cheek went numb for a while.
"You dirty beggar! Who told you to hurt my daughter?" the woman shouted.
The teacher was taken aback and forced me to bow in front of the woman.
"Apologize," she whispered to me, angry and disappointed.
At that moment, I realized I had no right to that school. I had no right to protection. I had no right to stand on my own principles. There was no justice for me at all.
So I never went near to them again. I did not make friends anymore, and I did not let any of them get into my life, because I already knew what was going to happen.
I did not have a parent or anyone I could approach for help. Not only that, but I was the only one capable of protecting myself, so it was better to be alone than to be hurt repeatedly. I could no longer bear the pain when that horrible incident happen again.
I snapped back to reality when I heard someone asked, "You are alone?"
I sat up straight and looked up at the person standing in front of me. It was Rogie. His forehead was furrowed, and he looked at me badly. I looked down. "Yes."
I had never forgotten what he did last time. And just like when he chased me down the hallway, he also did not come near me the next day. I did not know if he chose not to approach me the day after he teased me or not.