Just like that, Robin and I slipped into a routine. I would drive him to and from school everyday, and in exchange, he walked me to and from every class, and sat with me on every lunch break. Two weeks passed like that, and I found myself adapting to his constant presence around me, learning to take his idle jokes and teasing in stride, while he learned to keep his mouth shut when he found that I wasn't particularly in the mood.
I got used to his wide array of bright, fruity scents and his colourful attire, which made it almost impossible to be invisible in the hallways when we walked together. People would stare and gossip, and I would try my best to ignore it, even when we were called a myriad of synonyms of seizure boy and that quiet kid. Robin on the other hand, simply didn't seem to care, or even notice.