Piece of Pizza

It’s the form, not the pizza, that matters. It all began with the pencil case. I am an ambitious student in class; therefore, I feel well around test season. I enjoy learning to conceal since I was alone myself with my lesson book. There are peaceful, quiet classrooms at the end of the building, which I believe are appropriate for my personal studies at this wonderful period.
It turns out that a student was preoccupied with something when they entered the classroom. “Yat, what are you doing here?” the student said. And as it happens, Dayat is my classmate. He also showed me a pink pencil case with a ribbon pattern that was practically faded in colour, which shocked me. When I originally saw that object, I was honestly not interested in it, but that all changed when I was prompted to approach the pencil case. “I don’t know who this is, but it appears to be a picture of a girl in the class.”
Suddenly something weird happened to me; there was something strange that made me smile embarrassedly to myself as I looked at that photo. “Looking at who you are… Look at the back of the photo; there are their names there.”
Dayat teased me jokingly. A beautiful girl, pure white skin, sharp nose, and slightly slanted eyes, fascinated me looking at that photo. Like an Arabian princess in a crowd of other students. That is what made me interested in that girl. About twenty girls lined up neatly in school style. She is located second on the corner right in the top row, a row of their names in sequence according to the position of their respective photo. I made sure her name was in the correct order of position.