Contrasting Approaches

I observed my classmates gathering near the classroom where our first period would soon begin. Having finished my breakfast, I patiently awaited the arrival of our teacher. With each passing minute, more of my peers gravitated towards the vicinity. Most of them stood close to the classroom door, while a few opted for chairs strategically placed in the corridors. I took a seat among the latter group.

Around five minutes in, I noticed a figure approaching me. I recognized who it was but decided not to meet their gaze. It seemed prudent to feign ignorance. As the person drew nearer, I shifted my gaze in their direction, allowing our eyes to meet. It was Jake, dressed in a blue hoodie and black jeans.

"Good morning," I greeted.

"Morning," he replied.

Jake was the school's resident troublemaker. He had a knack for stirring up conflicts, particularly with students from other classes. His frequent skirmishes earned him notoriety, though it was a source of bewilderment for me. These altercations often brought him into conflict with teachers as well. He displayed a distinct lack of interest in his studies and was notorious for dozing off in class, much to the chagrin of our instructors. While he maintained a casual rapport with classmates, they hesitated to draw too close to him due to his volatile reputation. We had become friends at the start of high school, and as I got to know him better, I discovered a more laid-back side beneath his rebellious exterior.

Jake seated himself next to me and placed his books on the table, a sight that left me puzzled. Normally, he didn't bother carrying books, prompting my curiosity.

"Um..." I began, struggling to comprehend.

"So, why do you have your books with you today?" I prodded further.

"Huh?" he responded, equally perplexed.

"You usually sleep during periods, so what made you change?" I inquired.

"Oh, I had a parents' meeting two days ago, and my parents were furious when they found out everything," he explained, exhaling audibly.

I recalled him mentioning the meeting last week, though I hadn't paid it much heed at the time. He was typically tight-lipped about his family life, but his recent revelation hinted at an upbringing akin to mine. The audacity it took to defy his parents throughout high school was beginning to alarm me. To think we shared that much in common. We had spent more than half our high school years together, yet I was only just scratching the surface of his life outside of school. While we occasionally hung out after class, it was typically in the company of his other friends. I pondered whether he would divulge more if I asked or if he was the type to guard his personal life closely.

"Are your parents strict?" I inquired, driven by curiosity.

"They're very strict. Always pushing me to study, but I've learned a few tricks to dodge the books," he replied without a hint of deception.

"I see," I replied, struggling to find the right words.

I remained uncertain whether he was being entirely truthful, but the veracity of his response seemed less important now. What was clear was Jake's disdain for studying, to the extent that he dared to defy his parents. It was a stark contrast to my own approach. Despite our differences, I refrained from encouraging him to change his ways. Perhaps it was because I empathized with his sentiments. I assumed that when our lesson commenced, Jake would pay little heed to the teacher's words, opting for whatever amused him instead. He was the kind of person who followed his desires unapologetically, a trait that occasionally stirred a sense of envy within me.

"I brought the books just for appearances. I'll probably doze off once the class starts. School desks aren't that bad, to be honest. They're perfect for a quick hour-long nap," he remarked, attempting to elicit a chuckle.

"Just make sure the teacher doesn't catch you," I replied, smiling as a faint giggle escaped me.

As I uttered those words, I glimpsed the teacher arriving and opening the classroom door. We both rose to our feet, filed into the room, and thus commenced our first period.