One afternoon, Andrea and I stayed behind after class to clean the chalkboard. It was one of those small, insignificant tasks that we barely paid attention to.
"Hey, Rest," Andrea said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Hmm?"
"If I disappeared one day, would you notice?"
I looked at her, confused. "That's a weird question."
"Just answer."
I frowned, thinking. "Yeah. I'd notice."
Andrea leaned on the desk, resting her chin on her arms. "You're so logical about everything."
"How else am I supposed to answer?"
"I don't know. Maybe with something like, 'I'd search the entire world for you' or 'I'd never stop looking'—something dramatic like that."
I rolled my eyes. "That's dumb."
Andrea laughed. "Yeah, yeah. I know."
She grabbed an eraser and tossed it at me. I caught it easily.
"You always catch things so smoothly," she muttered. "It's kind of unfair."
"You just have bad aim."
Andrea grinned, but for a split second, there was something softer in her expression. Something unreadable.
I didn't think much of it back then.
After all, she was just my seatmate.
Just my best friend.
For now.