Why Were They Laughing?

By João Barros Goncalves / Spring 2026

Once again, it was Monday. I always felt a bit groggy in the morning, so I set the alarm clock at 5:40 AM to have ample time to prepare for school. Even though it was really early for me, my grandmother was already awake. “João Pedro! Your breakfast is ready, hurry up!” She shouted from the kitchen. I put on my slippers and stumbled my way there, where the smell of coffee enveloped the room. On the table, two slices of buttered bread and a cup of milk were waiting for me. I lazily ate, washed my plate and cup, went to the bathroom, and put on my uniform to go to school. Every day, my grandmother would demand a goodbye kiss. I, in a rather automatic manner, returned and replied “Love you too grandma,” while leaving the house.

The path to school was rather tedious, it was mainly a straight road lacking much movement. Though, from time to time, roosters could be heard crowing alongside the chirping of the birds. Even though it was rather majestic, it stirred nothing in me. The road was simply a path to get from point A to point B.

Arriving at my destination, I could already hear: “Barros! Come take a look at this!” It was Thiago, showing me a plastic bottle filled to the brim with dirty water and colored pencils. Whenever a teacher asked about that abomination, we would simply say “Pre-workout”, and refuse to elaborate any further. Our little joke would continue, until it literally went down the drain once a more serious teacher entered the classroom. Apart from that, school was rather straightforward: pay attention in class, do well in the exams, and do all the homework.

Returning home, I had to go back to being “João Pedro” for a while, up until I finished all my homework. Then, I was allowed to go to my computer, where I was “Lactovacilo”. That term, originated from a badly told joke which I was the only one to laugh at, became the engraved nickname in all of my accounts. Once again, I had to be efficient. Hesitating or giving a wrong call meant defeat, and, in competitive games, my teammates sure hated losing. Trying to be the best teammate I could, I shouted into the microphone: “Last one’s B! Yellow, go plant! Green, don't rush CT! Fall back! Fall back!” Though, it seemed like nobody was listening to my awesome and game-winning commands. All except one person, who, alongside some other nicer words, decided to share their dissatisfaction with my callouts: “Shut up brat, uninstall, you’re trash.” Which, if I were the weak kid I was before, would have made me very sad, but I had grown desensitized to “critiques”, so I just muted those bad people and continued playing. It wasn’t really fun though, since we lost the match either way, so I decided to quit playing and opened YouTube to watch some videos.

I usually watched whatever popped up in the home feed, just to pass the time. However, there was one video that caught my attention, an unofficial edit of a manga series. There was a boy and a girl, they were going on a date. The boy had arrived thirty minutes before the arranged time out of nervousness, but the girl was already at the spot they had agreed on. She was dazzling, the result of hours spent choosing the best outfit possible for the occasion. The boy was astonished, he couldn’t muster up any words, and when he got the courage to praise her outfit, a car went by, soaking them both. Their date got postponed an hour just because they had to go back home to change their drenched clothes. However, they returned to the same place once again. Now with nothing to stop them from enjoying the farmer’s fair. However, the boy felt a drop of water fall on his left shoulder. A torrential rain had started pouring down. The fair had to be closed. Scurrying to a covered place, they took some time until they recovered their breath. The boy, looking at the girl, said: “No luck today, huh?” The girl, regaining her breath, replied: “Yeah, I guess we’re just an unlucky couple.” And within a short silence, they began to laugh.

What? Why? What’s so funny about being hungry, drenched, and exhausted? There’s nothing fun about being in that situation. Why were they laughing so much anyway? I always had a logical escape route, something to explain why I was feeling sad, angry, or even happy, but they were laughing at their bad luck? That’s it? These feelings had no place in my mind, they were just noise. I bottled them far away, in some little corner of my soul where it couldn’t possibly affect me anymore. However, I couldn’t remember the last time I had done anything without a reason for it, the last time where something just… happened to me.