Third

                                    

                                          
Normally, I would probably end up thinking all through the day about a line like 'wasn't it obvious it was for you?' to figure out why the hell would it even be for someone like me. But James didn't let me wonder. 
This guy really did have some problem with minding his own business, I guess. And I didn't know why I let him sit with me.
He wouldn't let me completely zone out the lecture, poking my forearm with his pen for who knows what reason. He wouldn't let me drift to my thoughts or engross myself in my phone, simply because he talked. And if he wasn't talking to me, but someone else– he would still end up winding me involved in it somehow.
He didn't talk during the classes. Obviously not him. 
He was the topper kind.
I didn't used to believe in that academic hierarchy earlier, but ever since I had reached the rock bottom in it, I became pretty convinced of its existence.
He was at the top of it.
Unlike me.
And with how overly friendly or nosy he could be, I was surprised I didn't tell him off once. I really couldn't. There was something in that pretty face of his. I considered calling it the shiba inu factor, but with his nature, the golden retriever factor suited more.
Anyways, despite everything, the first week was fine. The first two months of a new session were always fine for me. No tests, no huge assignments or stuff. Things were always more relaxed.
"And there will be a test tomorrow for this chapter."
The class groaned.
I stared and blew out air from my mouth, hitting my head against the desk.
Great, I just had to jinx that.
Well, it's not like I didn't already know what my grade was going to be.
I looked at James.
He was staring at his notebook, frowning, a pen adjusted between his upper lip and nose.
I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes. He blinked and the pen fell to the ground. 
"Did you hear that? There's a test tomorrow."
He picked the pen up, nodding. "I did."
Of course, he must be studying daily. Sickeningly dedicated.
Sighing, I shoved my textbook in the bag, hung it on my back and left.
–
When I reached home, the first thing I heard as I entered was a loud crash.
The flower vase on the coffee table was now dead. Rest in peace. A puddle of water formed on the floor. 
And then, I heard the yelling. I saw the fingers being pointed at each other.
Yep, almost a week had passed since their last fight. The timer was ticking. I was expecting it any day now.
Apparently, today was that day. 
I watched as my parents hurled accusations and blamed each other for everything they thought that was wrong with their life. I watched as my father banged his hand against the cabinet, yelling. I watched as the photo frame of ours fell to the ground and broke.
I couldn't really do anything about it. They would just get tired of fighting and storm out on each other. It was just a matter of when. 
And when that would happen, I would be picking up after the shattered remains of their marriage. I would be cleaning up after their mess because they won't be in front of my eyes for hours.