It wasn't pin drop silence. Well, it wasn't even silent. A child started shrieking and crying somewhere about chocolates. But the only thing that I could focus on was the man standing before me, who wasn't my date; was definitely not Ethan. He looked much more aware of me than I was of his existence in the world. He sheepishly smiled again and slipped his hands in his pocket.

"I can explain, really."

In response to his voice that sounded like the most annoying tone ever, my stomach interfered - with a groan and a gentle reminder of its needs. Not sure what went through my head but my eyes turned sharper and I said something incredibly... strange, to say the least.

"I'm hungry. Let's just eat. You pay."

Three very brief sentences that will go down in history as the stupidest thing a person has ever said in response to being catfished via online dating apps. The man looked confused for a second as if he had expected me to throw stones at him and I would have, really, but I was hungry and I needed to get something out of him - an apology at the very least.

"Uh, okay, I guess? But-"
"Shut up, Catfish."

A few people passing close by raised eyebrows or passed a quick glance and exchanged murmurs at my snapping tone that was louder than what I anticipated. The Catfish shut up though and followed me silently to the Eatery, with confused eyes.

The delicious scent that was wafting around me turned out to be a greasy, double cheese, pepperoni pizza. I inhaled two slices in two gulps before finally focusing on who was supposed to be my date. His olive skin tone looked pale and his hand gripped the cup of water a little too tight.

"What happened for me to deserve this? Or is this a kidnapping scheme?"

He spit out the water earning very annoyed glares from the tables around and the cleaner as well. Sighing in disbelief, I looked around. This man would probably be severely injured tonight and not just by my hands.

"N-no. Of course not. Well it is kind of difficult to explain but I- uh, well-"
"Honestly dude, if you're so lost you shouldn't have started this scam, you conman."
Swallowing the lasts of my share, I put on my best intimidating face to watch his face become paler. His light hazel eyes were nervously moving around to everywhere but me. He cleared his throat for the nth number of times and stated,

"Ethan is me. But the picture you saw on the app, it was my roommate."
"No shit Sherlock."
"Just hear me out. Well, there isn't much to say, I shouldn't have done that. But I intended to send my roommate today because clearly, it's better to get scammed by name rather than by face-"
"Still a scam, though."
"Uh yeah and he couldn't come so instead of just standing you up, I-"
"You chose to reveal the catfishing. How noble of you!"
"Won't you let me finish even onc-"
"Bold of you to expect, Mr Catfish."

He sighed with a slump. He looked far too exhausted by the conversation to be lying. Cutting a little slack on him, I asked,
"So you are Ethan?"

He nodded vigorously before speaking in a much hushed tone than before,
"I'm sorry, Cynthia. I found it really interesting to talk to you. I couldn't help but continue the pretense."

Not saying anything in reply, I casually slipped a slice of pizza from his side to mine before chewing on it when a question struck me.

"I don't get it, though."
"Which part?"
"Why couldn't you make your own profile?"

He seemed to think for a moment, like, really really think before replying:
"It is a little complicated to explain. I'll pay for the pizza, would you like to eat anything else?"

I found myself shaking my head at that. He nodded in reply before standing up.

"I'll get the bill and once again, I'm seriously very sorry about this- uh, this-"
"Catfishing?", my smart self prompted with a mouthful of pizza.
"Yeah. Catfish. I guess that's me. I hope you won't take this to the police. I'll take the account down right now too."

I thought for a moment before nodding slowly.
"Okay, do all that. And don't scam people like this again, Ethan. You are hurting their sentiments like this."

He nodded softly before smiling. I noticed his freckles, lightly dotted over his nose and a little over his cheeks, as the lightings changed. His quiff had one stray strand falling over his forehead. His chin was a little pointy but it fit in with his tall and lean build. There was a very faint dimple on his left cheek. Taken aback by my unnatural staring feat, I looked away from his face, not returning his smile. Across the window was Darling's Confectioners, crowded with customers and fashionably dressed employees. Nana's face flashed before my eyes. She would be so aggravated when she gets to know what happened and the crowd in Darling's would be the cherry on top.

When I looked back inside, Ethan was gone. As I was nibbling on the crust of the last slice, a thought struck my head. I sneaked just one slice from his side of the pizza but somehow all the slices were on my plate even without me serving myself with it. Then again, I forget easily but somehow that thought didn't leave my head easily.

-

"Finally back, are you?"
Nana was standing before me, arms crossed even before I could put my purse down. Without waiting for a reply she took a seat on the couch, feet pulled up, before continuing.
"No really, you could have married him on the first date, since you already spent that long."

Pulling a very convincing poker face, I settled down in front of her.
"Do you know what a long time means, Nana? Lots of happenings!"

It took a while for Nana to respond after I finished telling her everything. She looked strangely serious, which was a rare happenstance for her, at least.

"You are taking this much more lightly than you should, Cynthia. Who knows what his true intentions were?"

"I didn't get any predatory vibes from him. I mean, he did call me in busy downtown that too at a familiar restaurant. So the harmful part - I'm not sure," I replied with a shrug before standing up to leave.

"I trust your instincts but just be careful. You can call me paranoid all you want but I know that the world is not a good place at the moment," a yawn cut off her sentence.
"Get some sleep now. You have work tomorrow, don't you?"

With a nod, I was already halfway up the stairs when I heard Nana call out to me.

"And Cynthia, you know what is another reason why the world is not a good place? You can never predict anything. Life is more complex with assumptions because we focus on outcomes. At the end of the day, your dough determines your cookie. And remember - no dough: no cookie."

As I tossed around in bed awaiting sleep, I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing, specifically not towards anything. I didn't miss my parents that much. The past few nights I've been up till late texting this Ethan guy, telling him insignificant details of my life, laughing at his dorky jokes and finding common grounds. A small sense of betrayal lingered in my chest. When you talk to someone online, you always associate them with an aura around them - a face to surround your thoughts with and their vibe. When this aura shatters as you finally meet them in person, it feels different but that familiar face clings with you. Today it was that familiar face that left me alone with a known aura.

A sudden urge to see our old chats got me searching for my phone. Unsurprisingly, I did not find his profile anymore. He kept his word. A laid back down with a resigned sigh. It looked like my dating life would always either be dead or tumultuous and I had no idea which was the better option. A loud car zoomed through our neighbourhood. Unlike me, I couldn't even bother to be annoyed by it. I knew work would be a mess for me in the morning but there was only so much I could do.

-

"And this is all the prominent symptoms of a person diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsion Disorder. This is it for today's extra class. For your weekly assignment, interview anyone who you think might have OCD and make a chart of your observations. Next week, I'll check your reports and we can discuss the statistics. Don't forget to take consent from the interviewee."

I finished just in time for the bell to ring. A few of the students patiently waited in their places, probably to ask some more questions, while the rest rushed out with already packed bags. Being the in-school psychologist, I often took extra classes; sometimes weekly other times twice a week. Like all the teachers, I too had some dedicated students while others did not take the class seriously and they were not obliged to, anyways. Since I worked part-time, I did not have much pressure of work but that came with the increasing depression in my purse. Thankfully, post another week of work, I could join as an official member of the staff with regular salaries!

"Miss Dumont?"
Cheryl Swain was standing before me, a few more of the students joining her. Unlike their usual appearance when they came to me with a pen and a notebook with a curious face, this time they were all just silently standing with harrowed faces.

"Yes, Cheryl? And everyone else too! How can I help you today?"

They all exchanged meaningful glances with each other before Emelie Brown gave Cheryl a little push and another meaningful nod which I could decipher was an urge to be the presenter of the topic. Cheryl was never the type to back down either so she finally got rid of the depressing silence.

"We were not sure to whom we could talk to about this and with you, we can be the most frank, so...," she nervously looked around again so I gave her an encouraging nod though in the back of the mind, I couldn't help but wonder if I could help them since I wasn't even official member of the staff yet.

"As you know, our class does not contain the best students, well it's not like they are the best either but... I mean, you know about the class stratification since last year right?"

I looked at them weirdly for a second.
"Class stratification? I know nothing about that though."

Cheryl and the rest of the group exchanged glances again before all of them gave each other tired nods.
"So that is why you were unconditionally kind to us."

Cheryl sounded tired and distressed. It was as if they expected something from me and I disappointed them really bad. A few of them even made a move to leave when I hurriedly interrupted their venture.
"What? No. Their is no demeaning intention behind my behaviour. What are you all talking about? Would anyone of you even explain?"

They looked so meek all of a sudden. Their faces read exhaustion and torment and it ached my heart, they weren't my students for a very long time but they were there as the very first of my students in the beginning of my journey as this In-School journalist. The rest of the students shook their head and left after wishing me a soft thanks that felt far too forced to be a wish.

When almost all of them were out, Cheryl stopped at the door.
"Miss Dumont, please don't treat us differently. Specialisation is only pleasant when it is positive."

With that she left and I stood alone, confused in the class as the sky outside darkened a bit more.

When I reached the teachers' room at the end of the day, I couldn't help but feel annoyed at everyone. Whatever this class stratification was, I was never made aware of it. It did fall to my notice that I took some extra classes for some students more than others, especially students of 'A' segments more.

"Oh, good evening, Miss Dumont!"
"Good evening, Mr. Buckshot."

The lack of enthusiasm in my greeting wasn't unintentional and to my even more displeasure, Adam Buckshot, the Chairman's nephew who chose to be humble and took up a school job, felt the blot too.

"Is everything alright, Miss Dumont?"

Finally unable to bear with the assumptions, I chose him to face the wrath of my questions.

"What is all this about a class stratification? I know I'm still a part timer but even then, I was never made aware of anything like this."

He looked confused for a second before finally laughing. His laugh only fuelled my annoyance.

"Oh that! It isn't anything that important. Just last year, a new class division was proposed. Students were assigned different routines according to the annual grade. There daily classes would be divided. A grade 'A' student would only go to 'A' stratified classes. This is also useful for us because we can then focus more on the better students. I don't think this would apply to you though, since you are a school psychologist. That may be why you didn't know."

I listened slack jawed. I recalled markings beside names in the attendance list but I didn't think anything of it.

"But isn't this discrimination? This way some students get more attention than others."

Mr. Buckshot shrugged nonchalantly, "That is the whole point.

I was fuming on my way out. I just needed a mirror to see the fumes coming out of my ears. We couldn't even imagine these processes during our time. Cheryl and the group's faces flashed before my eyes. They were all marked as 'D'. I couldn't even begin to think what-

A sharp push swayed me off my feet. The world around me spun and my butt hit the concrete, a flash of pain circulating through my body immediately. The anger that was yet suppressed was waiting for overflow and finally the trigger was pressed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let me help you up."

A hand was extended my way but what I could focus on was the voice from the source. It sounded very familiar.

"Catfish? You again!"

Preview:
"Who do you think you are? You're just a lowlife, a thug!"
"Huh. Pray that you get to leave this place alive now."