M   A   T   T

__________

This was so time consuming. I had been trying piece this puzzle for half an hour now. I didn't know whether there were some missing pieces of paper or I was just really dumb and that the answer was right in front of me. Most probably the first one but my mind was fixed on the latter.

I might have lost some of the pieces. Shoot. Even though there were parts that were completed, it looked horrid. Mr Simon wasn't going to mark this piece of garbage. More like Mr Simon didn't need to mark anything because I had nothing to submit.

Putting aside the 'puzzle', I tore out a piece of A3 paper. I looked around my room as I tapped a pencil on my desk. The theme was organisation. What could use some organising in this room?

Frankly, there were a lot of things in my room that could use some organising. My clothes, my school books, stationery, literally anything. Surely there must be something that could give me some inspirations. Only that nothing was clicking.

Come on, brain. Give me some ideas.

Deadline was on Friday. Maybe I still got time. But when I checked my phone, Friday was tomorrow. I'm so dead.

Unless if some miracle decided to occur --which I would love for it to happen right about now--, then that pretty much non-existent coursework would just add to my overfilled collection of failed assessments. Argh.

I sunk into my chair and propped my elbow on table to rest my chin. Letting out a loud sigh, I tapped my pencil on the sheet. What was I supposed to do now? More like what could I do?

Yvan. Yvan could help me. He said everything was good, right?

Immediately sitting upright, I dialled his number. It took him awhile to pick up.

"Hello?" said a voice at the other end.

"Hey man," I said into the phone. "Can I come over? I need your help with something."

"Uh yeah I guess so," he replied with slight hesitation.

"Great! See ya in ten," I said and ended the call.

With that, I quickly stuffed the things I needed into my bag. Rushing down the stairs, I told to my mother that I was going to Yvan's place. As I brought out my bicycle from the garage, my mother was already at the porch watching me.

"Matthew, wear a helmet," she reminded in a stern manner like she always did.

"Right," I said as I walked back to the garage for my helmet. Didn't want to worry my mother so I did as told.

When I was on my bike, I buckled my helmet, locking it in place. The other thing I needed to worry was helmet hair. Oh how much I hated helmet hair. Before I started cycling, I waved to my mother goodbye.

"Be careful."

__________

My thighs were burning as I rapidly cycle. With the rate I was going, I was cutting through the wind. The cool air against my face. Racing through the street, I near-missed a potential accident when I turned around a corner.

Be careful, I heard my mother's voice at the back of my head.

I finally slowed down when I reached Yvan's house. He was already outside washing his family's car. I got sprayed a little when I passed by as he washed away the soap off the charcoal SUV.

"Can I get uh one car wash please?" I joked when I walked up to him. I scooped a foam and slapped straight at Yvan's face, catching him off guard.

"Dude, what the hell?" he exclaimed and shot water from the hose directly at me, leaving me soaked as he spat out the soap that got inside his mouth.

"Duuude," I said as I rinsed my damped shirt dry.

"You started it!" he reasoned.

When we entered his house, I saw a Robyn glaring at me. Looking away quickly, I followed Yvan to his room. And wow, his room was far cleaner and neater than mine. Neat freak.

Yvan offered me a Star Wars graphic tee knowing that the shirt I was in was soaked. I put down my bag and as I took off my damp shirt, I caught a glimpse of him staring at my body.

I couldn't help the smirk that creeped up on my face, "Like what you see?" I teased as I put on the shirt he gave.

"Are those like hard rock abs?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah I mean if you say so," I shrugged and patted my stomach.

He shook his head and looked away nervously. "So what do you need?"

"Coursework stuff," I sighed.

The boy furrowed his brows. Yvan did not take 'design and technology' as a subject, he took food tech. What was I thinking?

"What's first?" he asked after a moment of silence.

We got to work immediately. I told him some key things about the coursework so he could have a better understanding of the theme. And for someone who was a neat freak, surely he got something that needed organising.

I felt hopeful when I completed the first few parts of the journal. Maybe there was a chance I could actually finish up the ideation stage today.

Yvan and I sat in silence as we tried to think of something. The quietness was getting to me and so I [fidgeted] with my pencil, tapping it on his desk. Hopefull this pencil tapping could help me focus on getting an idea.

"Shoes," voiced Yvan suddenly.

"Shoes?" I asked.

"Yeah. I own too many pairs of shoes my shoe rack can't hold all of them," he said. He brought us out to the hallway and there, I could see the mess I didn't notice before.

"Great," I said.

Now that I had something to organise --shoes--, it made thinking of an organiser easier. Just got to crack my brain for a good and possibly not yet invented shoe organiser.

Going onto Yvan's laptop, I searched for existing shoe organisers. This way, I could think of something new and original, which I clearly lacked, or perfect the already existing product and improve it.

Almost all of the products I saw on the browser were things I wouldn't have thought of or that my ideas were somewhat similar. How was I supposed to think of something better than the better ones that had already been made.

Another half an hour passed by as I sat around, thinking of something. Truthfully, my brain was empty. It even had cobwebs. Maybe I spoke to soon about completing the first half of the journal for midterms.

For that past half hour, Yvan was productive. He busied himself with Physics notes and practice papers while I literally did nothing other than wasting my time. In addition, from my peripheral vision, Yvan kept looking up from his notes and to face me every now and then. I found it weird and to which made me think if there was something wrong with me.

Suddenly, the imaginary light bulb above my head lit up. I finally had an idea after an hour or so. Well after I noticed the fidget spinner Yvan was spinning.

I was thinking of a spinning thing that stored shoes. Recalling, I saw something fairly similar on the Internet so I had to make a few changes in my design. Quickly taking the A3 paper, I started sketching out the design in my head before it slipped away.

"What's that?" Yvan asked as he stood behind me, looking at the incomprehensible drawing.

"Some spinning shelf thing," I said.

"I'm no design student and even if I were one, I don't think I would know what that thing's supposed to be," he said. "Why don't you label the parts?"

When he told me to label the parts, it made me realise that I'd missed out on a lot of things Mr Simon had taught. I remembered only bits and pieces of it but not fully. Damn, I should really start paying attention in class.

Then, a second realisation hit me. There were missing parts in my sketch that would fail for its function to rotate. First of all, I was already bad at drawing. Second of all, I had to redo the entire sketch which was a mere cylindrical form with lines going across it.

"Here," Yvan reached out for the pencil in my hand. When his hand grazed a little on my hand, he pulled away instantly with the pencil as if he was afraid. "I'll help you draw."

I watched as Yvan's hand moved around on the paper. The way his hand danced as he drew. I envied that he could draw better than me. Honestly, he should give me his ability to draw.

Once he was done, I looked at what he had drawn. "That was what I wanted to draw," I said, impressed. He even labelled the parts for me. "Thanks man."

"No problem."