The hall was abuzz with students, the air thick with anticipation. A woman I'd never seen before stood at the podium, her voice firm yet gentle as she called out, "Settle down, students, settle down." The murmurs died down, and she began her announcement, her words echoing through the hall like a promise.
"Well, all of you here are final-year students," she said, her gaze sweeping across the sea of faces. I turned to Jo, my curiosity piqued, and whispered, "Wait, are they not including other students?" Jo's eyes met mine, and he leaned in close, his voice barely audible. "The other students are some where else. This building is exclusively for final-year students."
I nodded, my eyes wide with wonder. "So, the final-year students are this many?" I whispered back, and Jo nodded. I turned my attention back to the announcement, my heart racing with excitement.
Then the woman continued "so all of you here are final-year students, and very soon – in the next sixteen months or so – you will all be graduating from high school and preparing for college." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room once more. "But I'm here to make an announcement. There will be a school party tomorrow evening... It's an optional party, not compulsory, but it's a welcome-back-to-school party to celebrate your entry to final year."
The words hung in the air like a promise, and I felt a surge of excitement. A party sounded like just what we needed to kick-start our final year – a chance to let loose, celebrate, and make memories that would last a lifetime.
The woman continued again her voice providing more details about the party. "It's not compulsory, it's your choice. This party is held once students enters final year, to celebrate entering the final year class. And when you leave, we will also celebrate with a party. But the party is different from graduation, when you will officially graduate out of this school and move on to college."
Her words provided clarity on the purpose of the party and what it represented. It was a celebration of our transition into the final year, a milestone in our academic journey. The fact that it was optional made it even more appealing, as it gave us the freedom to choose whether or not to attend. I looked at Jo and he seemed to be lost in thought.
The woman's eyes swept through the sea of students in the hall, her gaze piercing as she continued. "Okay, the last batch of students that left.. we discovered that most of them brought alcohol to the party. I don't know where they got it from, but many students really got drunk. I'm begging you all, no alcohol. Fruit drinks will be served, cocktails will be served. I know all of you are not kids, but no alcohol till you leave this school. Once you've gotten into college, you automatically become an adult. For now, you are still under our care and under our watch, so no alcohol, please."
Her words hung in the air, a stern warning that left no room for misinterpretation. "Am I understood?" she asked, her voice firm but gentle. The response was immediate, a loud and resounding "Yes ma'am!" that echoed through the hall. With that, the woman dropped the mic and left the stage, and the students erupted into applause. The message was clear: the school was serious about maintaining a safe and responsible environment for it students.
*
*
*
As I stepped out of the hall, I bid Jo farewell, his eyes locking onto mine briefly before he nodded and said he needed to see some people and attend his music class. I watched him disappear into the crowd, then turned to make my way back to my hostel room. The excitement and anticipation swirling in my chest were palpable, my mind consumed by the dinner Jo wanted to make for me.
The hours ticked by at a glacial pace, and I found myself counting down the minutes until the dinner.
*
*
*
As Jo stepped out of the hall, he was intercepted by Chuchu and her friends. They exchanged brief pleasantries before her friends excused themselves, leaving Chuchu and Jo alone. Jo's arms folded across his chest, a subtle sign of annoyance flickering across his face. "What now?" he asked, his tone measured, yet laced with a hint of impatience.
Chuchu's eyes locked onto his, her gaze intense and piercing. "Oppa, we need to talk" she said, her voice low and serious. Jo's eyebrow arched in response, his curiosity piqued. "Talk about what?" he asked, his tone neutral, yet inviting her to continue.
Chuchu's gaze narrowed, her eyes scrutinizing Joe's face. "Look, about that girl... Don't tell me you have feelings for her?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and skepticism. She paused, her eyes searching Jo's face for any sign of weakness or confirmation. "I saw you with her again, and it's not making sense to me."
Jo's expression turned guarded, his eyes flashing with a hint of defensiveness. "Chuchu, not again," he said, his voice firm and resolute. "I have the right to talk to whoever I want to talk to, like whoever I want to like. You have no right to stop me or monitor me." His words hung in the air, a clear boundary being drawn, a declaration of his independence and autonomy. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions and unresolved conflicts.
The conversation between Jo and Chuchu was intense, with Chuchu's words revealing a deep-seated concern or perhaps even possessiveness. "I hate that girl, so just do away with her," Chuchu said, her voice laced with emotion. Jo's response was immediate and firm, his eyes locking onto Chuchu's. "Don't tell me you stopped me just to tell me this? We agreed to pretend not to know each other, right?" he said, his tone incredulous.
Chuchu's expression was one of worry and protectiveness. "I can't see my brother walking into fire and not stop him," she said, her voice filled with conviction. Jo's response was curt, his patience wearing thin. "Chuchu, I don't have time for this. Okay, I'm actually late for my music class," he said, his tone dismissive.
With that, Joe turned and left, leaving Chuchu standing alone.she gritted her teeth and muttered.
"jerk!"