We steal a glance at the teacher while my friend tells me something about another common friend. I sit straight, looking purposefully ahead, but I am taking in every word that she says sitting beside me. A sign of trouble and I nudge her, and better sense prevails upon her so she keeps quiet for another minute. I am the less daring one. She doesn’t care much.
The bell rings and we start talking in our normal voice and pitch and loudness. A few more friends join us and we crack a joke or two before leaving for the next class.
Again, I focus my full attention towards what the teacher saying. One funny noise at the back of the room, and the next moment I am trying to control my laughter. I look to the side and she is doing the same. I feel a burning sensation to say something about it, crack a joke so that we can laugh at it later. She is thinking the same. Daringly I lower my head and whisper a quick joke, and we both are half dead trying to supress another round of guffawing.
The day is finally over. We part ways. And once I get home, I find the telephone ringing. Conversations never seem to end, the urge to speak and laugh never sated.