Here is another secret I'll disclose: I don't like to be alone. Even if it's to merely sleep, nap, or anything. I just never feel right when I'm alone. Maybe that's why I write stories on my phone at night right before going to sleep. I don't know for sure, but I do know this- it's great that I can freely chat with you from one side of the world at night. That way I don't feel alone...

"Wow... that's a really embarrassing thing to say if you think about it." My friend quietly returned my phone to me.

"... Wake me up when lunch is over," I replied in a voice that seemed to give up on refuting any further.

"No seriously.. you could easily add a few hearts and it'd be a love letter."

"And? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong you say?! You don't even know the person do you!"

"I've never met the person face to face, but I've met the personality in person."

"Ugh... whatever bro."

My friend also rested his head on the desk and sighed. Class was boring. The teacher droned on. It was boring. I didn't want to do anything productive in this environment. I was tired of sitting in the same seat, being in the same classroom, listening to the ever-boring lectures in the same school days, and doing nothing in the same boring fashion.

"I'm so bored..." My friend rolled his head on his desk and looked at me in the eye.

"Same... Especially since you don't do anything."

"I suppose so. All I do is take naps and sit in boredom and hope something interesting finds me. I guess it's my fault for not doing anything in this boring world."

My friend sighed in return and raised his voice slightly.

"This world isn't boring. You just find the world boring because you're a boring person."

"I see. What's interesting to a boring person?"

"Why don't you ask yourself that?"

"I just did. I'm asking you too."

"Why me?"

"You're friends with a boring person after all."

"..I sort of wonder why we're friends in the first place."

We continued our banter until the bell rang.

"Same place?" I asked.

"Ahh yeah. Same place. I'll be a little late."

I moved about the hallways while dragging my feet. Seeing so many people walk from point A to point B made feel sick to the stomach as I wonder whether all of them were the same dull people with fake lives. Perhaps we were all living in fake lives and the stories we weaved ourselves become our reality. Huh.. reali-tea... Maybe another boba tea company can take that name and rise in the business. What else is there? Socie-tea?  I think that exists already. Priori-tea? Wow, I'm pretty good at this.

After patting myself on the back for potentially giving birth to another milk-tea cafe chain, I pulled out a salad contained in a plastic box. I sighed as I opened up the plastic-wrapped utensils alone behind a distant building. My friend and I often came here to eat. The roof extended far enough to provide shelter from most things, and it was pretty secluded from the rest of the school.

I found the plastic knife that was packaged along with the fork for the salad and I was mildly puzzled by it. I never understood why it was ever needed. I fiddled with the plastic thing. Eventually, recalling all the tea puns I made, I grew thirsty and started heading towards a nearby vending machine in front of some classrooms. However, there were some people around it. In the middle of all of it was my friend.

"Why you friends with that guy huh?"

"I can choose my friends the same way you guys can choose when to be complete pricks."

"You wanna go lad?"

There were three people pushing and shoving my friend. Looking dully at the plastic joke of a toy, I bit the edge of it until a piece came off. The blunt edge became a pointed one. With loud footsteps, I walked towards the group and asked, "Can you stop your silly squabbling? Just let a guy get a drink."

The three who shunted my friend around turned to me and basically told me to "fuck off". I did not oblige and pulled out the plastic thing that came with my salad.

"What's that going to do?"

I shrugged and said, "I don't know. As fake as it seems, the job it does is pretty real."

I fiddled around with the plastic knife some more before using the sharper edge I created by biting to cut my arm slightly in a dramatic fashion. The scratch was deep enough to draw blood.

"See? It can do something at least," I said.

Disgusted by the sight of blood, the three bullies walked away. I sighed as I wiped the little blood on my arm on my shirt.

"This is a little troublesome.." My friend sighed.

"I suppose so."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Other than being a friend? Probably not."

"Maybe you can skip class with that cut. Looks convincing enough for the school to tend to it and send you home."

"Nah. I got nothing better to do at home anyways. Let's get a drink and go to that spot before my salad goes cold."

"... Your salad is already served cold."

"Come on, I tried to sound cool there."

"Whatever. So what do you want to drink? My treat."