“Are you a first year?”
“Ye-yes.”
“Which school did you come from?”
“Uh– District II.”
“Doing any sports? No? Do you know who your middle school’s leader was?”
“Like, the principal?”
The upperclassman snickered. “You can go.”
The little first year pulled his head down and ran away, spooked. The upperclassman – however much he did not look like one – bit his nails and shook his head at his buddies. There were two of them, making the total headcount three, to scout the arriving students. They had to pick out the ones who looked relatively hearty or wild. The boys’ big bro, M High’s unofficial tyrant, gave out the job to find any new meat who could jeopardise his reign.
Although these boys were a bit unreasonable, they were driven by their big bro’s mission. No one liked it when their big bro got into one of his moods. The easiest way to prevent that was to give him what he wanted.
Asking around proved to be worthless. No one had started a single fight since the start of school. The trio did not know where to start, so they figured, first thing in the morning at the gates must be a good place. At least, it had a lot of incoming traffic.
It had been a long while since these three woke up this early; coming to school on time almost seemed scandalous.
“Maybe kids are over these kinds of things,” one of the comrades in searching said from the other side of the school gate. His bleached hair – which was practically yellow – made his skin look sickly pale. Even his eyebrows could not get away scot-free.
“Then whatever can we do?” the first student asked. His eyes stopped on a young kid, from the looks of it, a first-year, cycling between others in a zigzag formation like a madman.
“Go to the shop. I’m starving,” said the third one with a hand on his stomach. As if on cue, his belly rumbled.
“We can go after this one.” The student inclined his head towards the cyclist, “Come on.”
Closing in, three rascals made their way to the storage shed.
Deil did not mind them in the slightest. He jumped down from his bike and proceeded to lock it. His hair was wind-blown, his uniform new and clean but awfully dishevelled. After straightening, he fished a cigarette from his pocket, ready to light on.
“Ey! I didn’t know you could smoke under eighteen on school grounds,” called one of the guys. He looked too old to still be in high school.
Deil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Actually, you can’t, even if you’re over eighteen. Not at this school.”
The trio sidled up to Deil, who put his cigarette away.
“Kid, are you a first year?”
Deil was in a good mood, so he questioned back with a twist of his mouth, “Are you?”
That old-looking guy smiled, this bout of flattery getting him excited. “Really? Do I still look so tender to be considered a first year?” The question practically jumped out of his mouth like a soft little bunny. He touched his cheeks.
People can repeat a year several times, thought Deil. Of course, he did not say that out loud. The three upperclassmen gathered around him in a familiar way, one that wasn’t encouraging.
The old-looking guy continued asking, “What school did you come from?”
“H Junior High.”
More and more kids came in through the school gates, but few used the bike shed. It rained all night, and the roads were still wet, scaring off anyone who wasn’t devoted to cycling regardless of the weather.
The guy sniffled, then cleared his throat. “Cool bike. You looked to be in a hurry coming in.”
“It’s 7:10,” stated Deil. Classes did not start for a while yet. It made no sense for him to be in a hurry. Not to mention, he never worried about being late. Who were these guys, and where did they come from, trying to be buddy-buddy with him out of nowhere so early in the morning? The situation turned uncomfortable. Deil asked back, “Do you know me?”
“Us? No.” The boys chuckled. “Why? Should we know you?”
Deil started to get impatient, so showed some of his temper. “Dude, what do you want?”
The three rascals shared a look. The one with yellow hair stepped closer with a Hey. Maybe he didn’t like Deil’s obvious lack of respect. “Who was your previous school’s lead––”
“Hey!”
At that moment, Deil noticed the close-cropped head of a person wearing a pair of skinny-framed glasses. That person was walking just outside of the school gate in a patch of light. Deil took off, leaving the other three stranded at the bike shed. His eyes locked in on the other boy’s face, wading through an ocean of students without navigation.
Deil made his way around the annexe, almost running, and arrived at the entrance as Saering was about to go in.
Sae glanced up as they met at the big double doors. He was a little taken aback by the sudden incoming person, not expecting it to be Shum Deil. His eyes flashed behind his glasses as realisation struck, and his mouth opened slightly.
Shum Deil couldn’t help but smile, seeing the look on Sae’s face. “Hi,” he said with his hand on the doorframe. Due to running, his breathing sped up, his face tinted with a light flush. They both stopped, not sure how to continue.
Sae looked at Deil, then retracted his gaze. In a steady voice, he greeted back, “Morning.” Someone started complaining about the holdup, so Sae moved first, passing through the door. He walked ahead but not so fast that Deil couldn’t keep up if he wanted to. He did.
The two boys walked side by side, a good two steps of distance between them. They made their way up the stairway, then around the corner to the right.
Sae figured Shum Deil would keep on ahead, but he took the turn with him. The science class was Class E. Their classroom wasn’t exactly in the opposite direction, but going this way made it a bit inconvenient.
The two of them walked in silence, glancing at each other a few times. Their gazes were a little evasive, their body language stiff but fleeting at the same time.
Finally, they made it to the humanities classroom, and Sae went in without a word. Shum Deil continued walking down the hallway like nothing ever happened. After passing the room, he let out a breath.
‘ART CLUB RECRUITING MEETING, Friday 15.00’
Sae’s eyes ran over the picture he had taken of a flyer in the corridor. That time he took the picture, Teo and the others called out to him. In his haste his hand trembled, so the photo became blurry and unfocused. He could not see any of the information printed in smaller font.
“Saering, can you tell us the answer to question four?” the English teacher – his head teacher – called out loudly, snapping Sae to attention. Sae slipped his phone into his desk basket without batting an eyelid. He looked at the exercise book opened up before him. Question four…
“The answer is D,” he said, voice calm. He worked out this set of questions in the first five minutes. Actually, he worked out all of this chapter’s questions. His book was scribbled through to the next dozen pages.
“Yes,” Pan Rita nodded, “and why is that the correct answer?”
“Because that’s the only one with the same meaning. The other possibilities talk about the topic, but none of them carry the same meaning.”
“Thank you, Saering,” said Pan Rita, moving on. “This is very important, everyone, so listen up! If you get stuck on a problem, finding answers with the same keywords as in the given topic isn’t enough. You have to read through the lines attentively and define the meaning, pairing it up with...”
Sae looked out of the window, leaning his chin into his hand. Language lessons, literature, and social studies. Classes he did not have to pay attention to, classes that covered nothing new. History was fun sometimes when the teacher divagated from the syllabus, bringing in topics more interesting and fresh. Sae worked through mock papers in his free time, solved chapter questions ahead and merely listened in on these classes.
He wasn’t about to get caught, nor did he have the heart to get found out in front of his teachers. He did not mean to be disrespectful; that was why he always did his thing quietly and on the side. Sometimes, he read under the desk on his phone or brought a thin book to school; sometimes, he stared at the yard or watched the sky.
A squirrel sprang up on the tree outside, in line with the window. The fuzzy little animal dashed for a stretch and stopped to look around. It rained yesterday; thunder rumbled, gathering dark clouds. Now it was quiet outside.
The bell rang as Pan Rita put down the board pen from her hand. “That’s it for today. Everyone, don’t forget the assignment for the next lesson. We’ll meet during last period homeroom. Don’t make trouble until then!” She turned to Sae. “Hoh Saering, walk me back to the office.”
Sae stood up, dodged a ball of paper chucked his way from Kaikai, and went out. The hallway was full of students moving around as he followed the teacher outside the classroom.
“I’ll take the notebooks,” Sae said and gathered the stack from his head teacher’s arms.
“Thank you,” replied Pan Rita. Kids moved out of the way, greeting the woman when they saw her. One thing about Pan Rita was that, although she was young – or maybe because of it – she could make a good impression on most of the students she taught. Almost everyone either liked her or did not have a specific opinion about her. Regardless, all stayed courteous and well-mannered when interacting with this particular teacher.
One head teacher and one student made their way to the staff room.
Inside the office, Pan Rita said, “Put them down on the table. Thank you.” She went to put away her materials.
The staff room wasn’t unfamiliar to Sae. Unlike some, it never made him nervous. He did not spend a lot of time in this school yet, but the place looked typical of what one would expect from the term ‘teachers’ office’. It had a general space for every subject teacher’s desk with an adjoined lounge where the adults could rest and talk with one another. Inside, the scent of fresh coffee diffused in the air. For students of the school though, that place was off-limits.
The principal’s door, a traditional leather quilted one, robust and very dignified, sat at the back of the room.
“Sit down,” Pan Rita said and pulled a chair over, “Wait a sec… here, drink this.” She took two bottles of juice from her drawer and gave one to Sae.
“So, I’m about to re-establish the English club. Everyone who wants to practise or learn is welcome. We’ll prep members for exams, competitions... TOEFL, TOEIC, college entrance exams, conversation practices; there are different ways corresponding to different study methods.” Here, she smiled. “I know a lot of kids go to prep school or language academies. But I feel it would be beneficial to have the opportunity an in-school club could offer to its students.”
Sae nodded; that made sense. Not everyone had the money, time, or affinity to sign up for after school… school, to put it simply. “And why am I here, Teacher?” He asked, not so sure himself.
“To join, of course! With your ability, we could cram in a few certificates. I try to invite a few students from every grade. We already have a poster in the making by a third year girl who is great with graphic design. Once it’s out, anyone else can sign up.
“It’s just an offer, an invitation. I want more first years to build a good foundation.” Pan Rita opened her drink and took a sip. “I’d like you to join.”
“Thank you,” said Sae, not yet decided but polite nonetheless.
“Okay, good. Go back and think about it.” The woman smiled. “Come find me whenever, or sign up when you see the notice. Don’t worry; I’m not going to hoard you with this in the future.” She looked so honest that somehow Sae believed that he wouldn’t get pulled into this, if he himself did not genuinely want to join.
He went ahead to leave. Before he could turn away though, Pan Rita called after him, “Ah, Saering. Do you know where Minke is? I wanted to talk to her too, but haven’t seen her at all today.”
“She’s sick. She’ll come back in a few days.”
“Oh. Why didn’t she or her mother call in?”
“I think she wrote to you in the class group chat.”
“Ah… of course, the group chat. I didn’t have the time to check it today,” Pan Rita said, “Well, thank you. You can go now.” She even made some shooing motions to see Sae out.
In the hallway, Sae saw that Class E was outside, currently warming up for physical education class. The boys were in a cluster together, ending light exercises on the football court while the girls ran on the track field. Inadvertently, Sae’s eyes found Shum Deil in the crowd, who pulled on his gloves while moving towards the goalie post at the end of the court.
First, Sae slowed down, and then, without knowing why or how, he already made his way outside, walking closer along the stone steps that led to the field. Somehow, he wanted to see what kind of person Shum Deil was with his classmates, with his… friends?
Sae walked to a spot a safe distance away but did not sit down. He stopped in place and waited, although he did not know exactly what he was waiting for.
In the first few minutes, nothing happened. The science class had good players among the boys participating in this team because the ball could not come close to their half of the court at all. When it somehow did, in just a few seconds, it got kicked back to the other team’s territory without a hitch.
But then, one of the boys broke away, caught an insane long pass, and charged at the gate with the ball. Deil paused and got into position, his laid back expression hardening, his legs slightly bent, going taut and ready to spring.
The boy took a shot. Shum Deil leapt to the side and fended off the ball to his teammates’ cheering. He straightened up, chuckling, then sent the ball all the way to the other side of the court. His easy smile glistened in the sun with two rows of tiny white teeth. As he turned to look towards the stone steps, his eyes caught Sae’s.
Sae was still staring at him too, and their eyes met.
Twice just in a day, they looked, then looked away. Looked again.
Shum Deil was still smiling, and his smile could have been directed at Sae. The possibility made Sae feel some unease.
For a second there, it looked like Shum Deil was about to wave to him, although he probably did not understand what Sae was doing, eyeing him play football in class... But Shum Deil only shaded his eyes from the sun’s glare with that hand reaching up, and Sae berated himself for being foolish.
Still, he did not turn around, did not leave, did not look away. Not until Deil got sure whom he was seeing was actually him, Hoh Saering, standing on the steps with his face turned in his direction, gazing at him from the distance.
Deil wondered what this was about, why Saering would watch him.
The sleeves of the youth’s uniform were folded back, so his wrists were visible, his collar loose, a triangle of his neck peeking out. His hair got mussed by the wind.
It had been almost a year since they first met in similar circumstances to this, looking at each other from different places, one up high and one down below.
This past year, Deil had observed Saering from a distance multiple times, but it was the first time he got watched like this.
Sae stayed still. One of the teammates went to say something to Shum Deil, who listened with a laid back expression. They seemed to get along well, with an easy and familiar air around them. They looked like two normal high school boys, none of the two different from the other.
It rained again that afternoon. Sae was sitting in his seat next to the windows, Kaikai boxing him in from the other side. The history teacher droned on without care whether the students fell asleep or not.
The bark of the trees turned dark with moisture. Leaves trembled with the plops of water, gently swinging up and down until they drooped heavily as water gathered on the ground. There was no class out on the field now; all quiet and still. As the sun got hidden behind the clouds, the students got ushered back into the buildings. Sae wondered what other classes were currently in session.
He rested his chin on the palm of his hand and gazed out of the window, remembering this morning. The mist in the air and a hand on the doorframe.
