#12 YKK

I’ve been through everything, okay? So don’t even try to tell me that you know Young-Kyung, because I do - more than you'd think. Even her mother, because she can’t go to school with her. I go everywhere with Yoyo - yeah, that’s my nickname for her. It’s practically copyrighted. Just saying.

Even though I can’t always see because she has her wrist turned at moments, I can always hear through my clasp. Right now, I have a vantage point up by Janet’s strap - she starts talking to me, drawling softly, as Yoyo steps over someone else’s black pack on her way to her seat.

“Look at that tiny thing sitting on the floor. Blocking the aisle like it owns the place -”

Janet thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s only a year old. But she’s already got wears and tears like I do - and with her bright green canvas it’s so much more visible, though I have four years on her. A million miles and four years of separation, but four years nonetheless. Exasperated, I say, “Janet, shut up. You block the aisle more than any other backpack.”

Janet hmmms as Yoyo reaches her desk-seat unit and slips Janet onto the floor. As our owner rummages through Janet’s various pouches for her novel, she chuckles dryly. “At least I know where I belong, Pontia.”

It’s the usual banter, but the underlying darkness of Janet’s tone is new. Yoyo slouches into the curve of the seat as she flips through pages of her book. I’m glad that all I can see is a blur of creamy, textured words - what if Janet’s figured out what I’m doing? Who I’m talking to? And the pulse in Yoyo’s wrist beats against my olive body, as if she can unknowingly shake my intent onto the soft surface of the desk, burnished with years of careless handling. Like me.

But no. I calm myself. Stupid girl. The teacher starts talking in the front of the room. Yoyo closes her book. Out of the corner of my silver eye, I count the seconds circling the clock hanging on the whiteboard. All I can do is wait.

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Wow. It got a lot more dramatic than I thought it would...I hope it was enjoyable, at least while you read it. And please don't call me Yoyo...unless you are willing to become a bracelet perpetually hanging on my right wrist.