Second grade passed by, and I entered third grade with another silver medal. Another walk up to stage, another photo taken. Once again, my father missed the ceremony as he is still overseas. The ones to accompany me were my mom and, surprisingly, one of my aunts who happened to be there.

  Silver is considered an “almost” medal—almost gold, almost bronze. Golds are the top notch people; Bronzes are just happy to be there. Silvers are at an awkward situation where they're better than the rest, but not as good as the best. They fell short on one or two aspects that hindered them from reaching greatness. I didn't mind being this silver medal.

  After the event concluded, we went back to our respective rooms. I took the ramp that led to the second floor, even though it was forbidden to do so. It was a newly-constructed ramp at the time, done over the summer break. With it being an illegal route to take, a game was eventually formed on if you can run up and down the whole stretch without being caught. This game gradually died down as the restrictions became less and less; the school head didn't care anymore, I guess.

  I noticed some familiar faces mixed with new ones in the new room. Martin was once again a classmate of mine. By this point, he was one of my closest friends. We usually call each other after class, sharing boss themes from his favourite game series. Martin plays a track, while I open up a fan-made wiki to understand what the hell he's talking about.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I sometimes still feel bad about not caring as much as he did. The telephone was quite the distance away from the nearest laptop, so I had to drop the handset before doing my little searches. There were instances where I forgot to talk while searching; Martin calling my name over and over on loudspeaker until I answered back.

  One of those calls, he mentioned having a crush on someone. A singer from our class who allegedly has an actress for a cousin. Martin described in detail how much he liked her, and for how long. Even putting forth plans on serenading her, asking me to do it with him. I accepted.

  The plan was a daring one. Martin will be singing and giving her a small stuffed toy, those that clung on bags. My task is to play the recorder. We'll be doing this as she leaves on her school service; we'll be chasing the service.

  The surprising thing is, we actually pulled through with this wild plan. It happened two days after his proposal. We were there at the parking lot, waiting for his crush's school service to leave. When its engine roared, it was our signal to move. The both of us sprinted as the service began driving off. Martin sang horribly and I, out of breath and clinging to my recorder, barely let a proper note out. But it was a success with Martin's crush receiving his gift.

  I would say I was happy it's over, but we re-did the act the following day, minus the gift giving. And the day after, minus the singing this time. And the the day after that. It reached a point where we just ran and chased the school service. We even became notorious for it. “The boys who kept chasing a van for one girl...”