Partners

~ Era ~

Then

I wake up from a horrible dream. I have dreamed of looking in the mirror at myself. I was smiling, and I felt happy while I dance to a piece of great pop music. I laughed as the dizziness slightly enveloped my whole being. It was insane, how I felt. Euphoric rush flooded my veins, heartbeat racing synchronous to the beat of the music.

I look again, admiring how I felt wonderful as I pictured out myself. I move my hips to the rhythm, my arms, and my legs followed. Until I saw my reflection, or I thought it was.

Except that, he is a boy.

I stopped moving. Hoping that the blurry was all due to having myself dancing ecstatically. The mirror is a rectangle furnished with raw wood at every side and corner of it. It is pinned on my walk-in closet which is where I was standing now.

But it's not. It's not me.

He is a boy, and he looks just like me!

I gasp when he moves forward. He stepped again, and again. Until he steps outside from that mirror. We are looking at each other. The second our eyes meet; I can't take my eyes off him. My heart is still racing, although I'm not sure if it is still because of that euphoric rush. His hand moved. He holds my waist pulling me closer in slow motion. I don't hear anything. The music stopped playing, and I can't even hear myself who is barely breathing.

I can sense how his hand moved from my waist up to the corner of my face, holding my jaw. I slightly flinch but I can't make myself look away from his green sparkling eyes. After that, I blinked.

And the dream ended.

I sip on my cup of coffee, making sure I was fully awake now. That dream was far too different from my usual dream. I hope it won't mean anything to my life. Based on what I have read from a book, the dream is just a made-up from our subconscious mind. Maybe, deep inside I am craving for cloud nine. And that whole scheme from my dream is a result of frustration.

But who is that boy?

He looks outstandingly attractive. I mistook him for being me. Somehow, we look a lot like each other. Having the same features.

A boy version of myself.

It creeps me out whenever I suddenly thought who it was and what does it mean. I have a class today, but I don't mind being late. In fact, it's becoming a habit of mine.

I pulled my laptop from my bag to quickly search about dreams. I typed in dream means.

It flooded information about dreams, the meaning of it. I skipped that part. I want a much more explanation, scientifically. A few said that it has a deeper meaning, that it reveals one unconscious desire and wishes. Or thought of self-reflection. Many websites pop up.

Afterward, my curious self has been satisfied.

I went to the school smiling. Because I was overloaded with information regarding that appalling dream. Slightly confused, but I feel much better now. At least I know something other than knowing nothing at all.

Like I expected I came late. I slowly opened the door not wanting too much attention. The discussion is very well, detailed. Everything seems fine not before the professor gave us an activity. It's about the upcoming dance festival. Professor Cooper said it will serve as an activity, assignment, and if we had an amazing performance, we would get a bonus grade.

He started to call our names. "Okay class, I'll let you perform by pair since your class has counted an even number. Well, Mr. Cole will be exempted from this activity." He said looking at Luther who's sitting beside me.

"Good luck Mr. Cole, I heard them talking about you at the faculty." He added eyeing the boy who's seated beside me.

The boy then nods and smiled. "Thank you, Sir." He simply said. He didn't mind the latter, the comment. If I were him, I would ask what they are talking about.

Professor Cooper is gay, he has a thick beard that is hard not to notice because his head doesn't have hair. He is bald. Although his thick eyebrows are attractive which serves as one of his assets aside from his beard.

He started to say names. Looking at each one of us. He slowly walks side by side. The atmosphere in the room changes from excitement to nothing but nervousness.

"I will choose your partners. I don't want anyone to be left behind. Expect that this is a random pick." He raised his eyebrows at the girls on the front row who wears full glam makeup. Typically, because they started to whisper not the moment Professor Cooper said random.

"You can perform whatever you like as long as it will be by pair. You can perform by pair with a group, or if you want it to be sexy and romantic then perform it with precision with your partner. Make sure the two of you are comfortable, okay? I don't want it to look awkward on the stage. And please be aware that Mrs. King will watch." He has a stern expression on his face.

Mrs. King is our school director.

"Remember not to disappoint me. If your performance is brilliant, I owe you a bonus point." After his long explanation, he asked. "Is everything clear?"

"Yes, sir," Luther said loudly enough for everyone to hear. I heard someone laughed at him for saying yes even if he's not included in the said activity.

Our professor started to say names.

"King, Gill."

"Wolfgang, Ryder."

"Brown, Reid."

Randomly paired.

For the fourth pair, I heard my name.

"Hart, Manchester." I wrote down my name and the name of my partner on a sheet of paper. Because I might forget it.

I am not a socially inclined type of person, but I am assertive. I don't know who Manchester is, so I asked in the middle of the room after our professor leave.

"Who is Manchester?" I am the only one who stood up there. In the front seat, I can see all the girls who wear dark makeup. They look horribly depressed. I look at them as they continue to whisper to each other and laughing in between. Oh, well. Probably talking about me. I stop myself from rolling my eyes at them.

"I am Manchester." I heard. I look around to see this boy with curly and long hair for a boy. I nod at him. He did not stand, by the way, just raising his hand. Gosh, I put too much effort into this. I wish he is good and reliable as a partner.

Slowly, I walked to him past the depressed-looking girls.

"Phone?" I asked while gesturing my hand to have his phone. He looked surprised. He paused for a moment and get his phone on the right-side pocket of his jeans. He looked baffled as I type in my number.

"Here's my phone number. Just text me where and when we will do the activity." I said emphasizing the where and when. After that, I went off to take my seat because the next subject is quite hard for me, calculus.

I frown as I sighted him having a glimpse of me. But I remembered who's sitting beside me, his friend. I recall seeing them sit side by side with each other at the cafeteria.

Why would I even think he is looking at me. How can you be so pathetic self?

The man beside me faced me and he didn't mind that I look at him too long than I should, he smiled, so do I.

I wonder if it's someone else I'm staring at. Possibly, they would say that I'm rude. Most people certainly do.

Maybe he's not from here?

It's in the middle of the school year but I find it hard to memorize and know my classmates. I guess I'm too independent. I have been so used to being just with myself. Now, I find it hard to have others accompany me without boring myself out.

My phone chimes. And a text message pop out.

+5345608309:

Era, right?

Hmmm, he knows my name. Oh, yeah. He will know, thanks to the gossip girls out there who always find me interesting.

I saved his number.

I typed in.

Era:

Yup :)