It was just any ordinary Friday. So ordinary, but I realised something that I've never realised before. That I was cold. She told me she had bumped into several schoolmates at the mall. I didn't expect to meet one on the bus.
I saw her, my impression stayed still, of her being tall, cold, arrogant and so we smiled at each other, and then no more. My back was to her; I felt an awkward tension. She was my basketball classmate, an enthusiastic player, very opposite me. She ran forward, I ran backward.
Not long after we saw a free space. And she took a seat beside me. We fiddled and played with our phones, not speaking, not looking at each other, not attempting at some kind of communication. My impression of her still stayed.
Where was she heading? Was she going to Bugis Junction too? Was she going home? What did she think of me? Was I quiet in front of her? Should I talk to her? If so, WHAT exactly should I talk to her about? I utterly could not answer these questions -- not without speaking to her.
We arrived at her destination.
I turned to her in surprise. She smiled at me. She said goodbye to me. And all I replied her was a TINY smile and a TINY wave of my hand. She had said goodbye to me like I was a good friend of hers. It was only then that I realised my coldness. It was not her who was cold -- it was me. Something that once again taught me not to judge from appearances. Something ironic that had me ponder on it for a very long time.
And I shall not forget that sweet, sweet, genuine smile, which warmed my day up.