A week and a half before the midterms, both the science and the humanities classes sharpened their attitudes to the point of open animosity. The teachers however left them alone, saying that rivalry made the kids concentrate more on their grades. That mentality wasn’t entirely false; both classes wanted to better up the other, one way or another. The midterms were a given, followed shortly by Game Day.
Friday afternoon, a crowd of self-appointed relay specialists gathered in the schoolyard after lessons. It was time for the qualifier.
“This is a mess,” Kaikai said, his eyes travelling over the people running around like headless chickens. “It’s good that there are only so many of us from the humanities class.”
“I wonder how long it’ll take,” Sae said and propped a hand to his side.
The logistics of this preliminary race were wonky. Every class could promote two students for the relay: one as a part of the official lineup and one as a reserve player. Since the school had previously announced the time and place, not only the participants, but a lively spectator and cheer squad also made their way over. The scene thus became raucous.
The organisers asked the classes to queue up according to the class-based evaluation.
“Everyone who has not signed up for the race, get off the track!” the gym teacher scolded. “There are seats and stairs. Why are you all loitering around the track? Scram!”
The supporting classmates dispersed. Most athletes made do with sitting down where they were, chatting as they waited. The president of each class got called away for a briefing.
Five minutes later, Yidan returned to the humanities class.
“It’s okay.” Yidan waved, indicating that everyone should stay where they were. “So, it will go by years. The senior classes are up first since they have something going on later. Not a lot of them signed up, and they already chose two students per class. They only have to run the two-hundred metres and decide the final lineup. First to eighth place will officially be part of the relay; ninth place and over will be reserves.”
“So, for the time being, it’s just a dash between us?” Teo asked. He leaned back on his elbows, totally at ease. He had no reason to worry; no one in the humanities class could take first place from him.
“Yes,” Yidan nodded. “It’s the first-years’ turn after the seniors. They will start from class A. We can go home once our year is done.”
A boy from their class spoke up. “Do you mean we won’t compete with other classes?”
“What for?” Teo asked. “It’s an event between years, not one between classes. We’ll actually have to cooperate if we want to win.”
That was true. There were only so many teams combined from all classes in a year. All students became teammates once they made it into the year’s final lineup.
Yidan declared, “Only the top sixteen can race to decide the official and reserve players.”
The boy shrugged, unhappy with this outcome, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
While they waited, Sae had to go to the washroom. By the time he walked back, the qualifier was already in the middle of Year 1 Class B’s dash.
All in all, the track was four-hundred metres long, so two-hundred metres were half of it. The organiser committee rotated the classes from one side of the field to the other. Those in line got closer to the starting line with every turn, while students could compete without a hitch on the other side.
When Sae returned to his chit-chatting classmates, he saw Susu and another girl perched on the sidelines of their group. “How come you’re here?” Sae asked and sat down next to Susu. “It’s not yet Class E’s turn.”
Susu waved a hand. “Nope, but you see how many girls we have?” She pointed at the field, “We only need to run once. It’s a miracle if classes can nominate two whole girls.”
“Two whole?” Kaikai babbled, “Did someone get stuck at the athletic field’s gate or something?”
“I heard that a girl sprained her leg but still signed up as a backup for the linguistic class.” Susu swept her short hair back and bound it with a scrunchie as she talked. “That girl can’t even run right now. The doctor said she may be fine by the time of the sports day.”
“And they couldn’t find anyone else?” Kaikai asked.
Susu shrugged. “Seems like it. Why? How many girls want to run from your class?”
“Five,” replied Sae.
It was true. A group of girls loitered not far nor too close to them. At a glance, it was difficult to discern which class they belonged to.
Susu exclaimed, “How come?”
The boys shrugged. Sae said, “No one knows. The girls running for individual events signed up for the relay at the last minute. Maybe it’s about the prize money.”
“Is it really money, though?” Another classmate cut in. “I heard they don’t give out money anymore.”
Teo grinned. “Gift certificates are fine too.”
“Well, whatever. Excluding the humanities girls, we’re only a handful.” Susu explained, “We’ll just run to decide the final lineup after your class is done.”
“So then, why are you here?” Teo asked with glee. “Trying to sniff out our strategy?”
It was Susu’s turn to laugh. “Why would I? It’s only you and one other guy. Is there a need to go that far?” She sounded just as certain about Teo coming in first as when she said she’d make it to the relay.
The friend who accompanied Susu was too nervous to stay and fraternise with the enemy. She poked Susu and told her something.
“Mnm, okay.” Susu nodded. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Her friend stood up and quickly skipped back to class E’s territory.
Susu turned to Kaikai and Sae. “Dani told me to pass some review materials to you two. It’s in my bag. I’ll go grab it after we’re done here, okay?”
Susu’s twin brother went to the all-boys high school at the other end of the city. Daniel’s school was illustrious, both its advanced class materials and its students worthy of awe and praise. Around exam seasons, the three of them often swapped review materials around, doing not only their respective schools’ work but also practice papers outside of it.
Susu thought they were nuts, as if doing their own assignments weren’t enough. Alas, she was the one who met everyone on a daily basis, so she became the middleman between the two sides.
“Okay. Thanks, Susu.” Sae nodded with a smile. “Just wait for us. We’ll go and pick you up after gathering our stuff.”
“Cool,” Susu said.
“Hey, we’re up!” Yidan waved at them while coming closer. When he saw the science girl, he stilled. “What are you doing here?”
Susu sprang up and breezed past the class prez. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The humanities girls took their position on the track, pulling the assigned number tags over their shoulders. Hidden among the lazy sloths of their class, these girls proved to be cheetahs. Once they started to run, Sae understood why they signed up for so many races. Their dash wrapped up in a blink of an eye.
After the girls, the boys also lined up, all four of them.
Sae looked at the length of the route they were about to take. On the left side of the track, a bunch of science class boys were jumping up and down. Sae gazed at them and made eye contact with Shum Deil.
During this past week, the two had trained together three times. The first time, Shum Deil had helped Sae buy tickets for Emi’s birthday. Following that, they got into the habit of treating one another to tea every time they met.
By now, Sae wasn’t as apprehensive to stop at the tea shop. The tiny Jack Russel Terrier had also gotten friendlier with them, acting almost clingy.
Sae still had a Tom and Jerry kind of relationship with Shum Deil, but that also got better in time.
Now Deil made a running gesture with two of his slender fingers at him. Sae nodded and crouched down.
When the whistle sounded, the boys sprang to life like bullets shot from a distance. Sae started out strong, pushing with all his force and keeping it until the end. He finished as the runner-up, only after Teo, of course.
Kaikai, out of breath but grinning, walked over to bump fists with Sae. “The bet’s off. You’ll get that workbook tomorrow.”
Sae smiled back. They got off the tracks, sat down and watched the remaining races of the first years while they waited.
The science class was full of boasting boys ready to conquer the track; more than ten students came to compete. Sae watched from the sidelines as they strained to battle and came out as the winner.
Shum Deil finished amongst the first couple of students, but this bunch was cluttered so close that no one knew exactly who won. They went to check with the referee, and Sae saw the gym teacher point at Shum Deil.
The boy turned his head, looking left and right, until he found Sae slowly clapping at him.
After all the classes narrowed it down to pairs, the first year girls ran again, followed by the boys. While getting into their start-up stance, Sae ended up beside Shum Deil.
“Wanna bet on who’s faster?”
Sae tilted his head. He thought, I’m done with bets for today, but what came out of his mouth was, “What are the stakes?”
“I didn’t think about that,” Deil admitted.
Sae snorted. “Then why bother to bet?”
“You decide then. It doesn’t matter to me.” Shum Deil’s arrogance made an appearance.
As Sae pondered on it, the referee called out. “Everyone, get ready!”
The boys waited with bated breaths. They were at the top of their classes, every one of them ready to prove themselves. The stands weren’t as full as if it was a real competition, but a considerable amount of spectators came to watch and laze around for half the afternoon. It was as good a place to show off as any. Legs flexed in anticipation, ready to rush out any second.
The referee bellowed, “Set.”
“Treat me,” Sae offered at the last second.
The starting whistle went off with a shrill, followed by sixteen first-years sprinting off the starting line. Their set off almost drowned out Shum Deil’s question, “To what?”
Sae didn’t think at all, dashing with all his might. He was faster than in the previous turn. The one he wanted to beat wasn’t an unreachable dream like Teo, but Shum Deil.
Sae had excellent explosive energy, his lungs straining, his heart pounding. He and Shum Deil went head to head, and even after a few dozen metres, none could pull ahead of the other.
Since the race wasn’t long distance, Sae didn’t have to control his pace so much, immediately letting go when he liked.
The first few crossing the finish line wasn’t anything to be surprised about. Teo finished third. Only the physical education students could outrun him.
Their bunch came in one after the other.
The organisers needed a moment to monitor the race, filmed by two student council members positioned at the sides of the finish line. The different angles gave a pretty consistent view, three minutes went by, and they had the final lineup.
In those three minutes that the boys had to wait for the announcement, most retreated back to the field, plopping down on the grass. After the dash, Sae sat down, leaning back to lie with his arm and legs spread out. His abdomen rose and dipped sharply. He really ran with everything he got just now.
Shum Deil scooted closer and said, “You won.” He didn’t sound the least bit offended about it. “What do you want me to treat you to?”
The two looked at each other.
Heat was coming off of Deil’s body. Sae’s hand was flung between them on the grass. As Deil moved closer, Sae’s hand curled at the sensation of his warmth.
“Is this a habit of yours?” he asked with a tilt of his head. The sun blazed down, and he had to squint against it. “Being so happy that you lost.”
“I never thought I could win,” Deil replied.
“Then why bet on it?”
Deil only smiled with a shake of his head. Sometimes, this guy really acted like a dummy.
“Let me think about it first. I don’t crave anything right now.” Sae sat up, dusting off his hands. “I wanted to talk to you about training. Can we pass on some of the afternoons? I don’t think I can make it, and I feel like I already got the hang of it. I’m not preparing for a real competition, so...”
What Sae didn’t say was that he wanted to study more. It took time to get to the small plaza, took time to train, not to mention he never simply went home afterwards. Those two to three hours were instances he could use to revise more before the exams.
Sae wasn’t dumb; he knew that if he told it straight like that, he had to face the possibility of Deil scoffing at him. Deil never seemed to mind if it got late, never seemed to care what else he could do with that time on his hands, how well he could prepare, how many papers he could solve. Maybe for an academic test god that wasn’t anything worth mentioning, but for Sae, it mattered. He didn’t want the other to look down on him. Not like he was certain that Deil would, but still.
The smile dissolved from Deil’s face. He nodded and replied after several moments, “Okay. Do you already know what days or...”
“I’ll tell you beforehand,” Sae rushed to say. He actually felt a bit regretful, as if he had let Deil down. Or maybe it was a pity there wasn’t more time to play.
Deil didn’t ask again, taking what Sae said at face value. He repeated, “Okay.”
Young people were full of vigour and passion, often acting frivolously, but they were inevitably living for the present. They forgot grievances with the change of day and night, right?
Then why were the science boys still pissed after the preliminary race?
Susu said that Shum Deil was the fastest in the science class, but their ‘enemies’ still overtook him.
Sae finished in fifth place, and Shum Deil finished in sixth. Although Sae was faster than the students from other classes making it to the final lineup, according to the rules, every class could assign only one person. And so, he remained the reserve member of class C.
“That’s unreasonable,” Minke said once she heard about it. “Shum Deil finished in sixth place. No matter how you count it, there were clearly more than two people who overtook him.”
“...” Susu wasn’t sure how to react. After struggling for a moment, she told the other girl, “Please don’t let them ever hear you say that. They would probably combust at the spot...”
Teo laughed; he enjoyed the drama. Next to him, Sae buried his head lower, intent on reading.
Everyone was preparing for the midterms, teachers and students alike.
During the week before the exams, Sae’s studying became the most intense. It wasn’t about cramming as much, but he read more than before, went through more practice papers and question banks.
Since he had gotten direct admission to high school solely by his grades and recommendation, he didn’t participate in the admission exam. Now he studied as much as he would’ve for the admission test.
It wasn’t anything specific that had set Sae off and brought forth this kind of behaviour. He only felt he couldn’t quite stand solidly on the ground like he was slipping up with every move. That made him anxious.
While his afternoons had been spent at the small plaza, Sae had to cancel his plans with Emi. M Junior High had upcoming midterms as well. Both were busy and only talked via messages, sweeping back and forth many times a day. Like always, Emi was invited over for dinner, but after they ate, the two went their separate ways to study.
Sae hadn’t told Emi about spending time with Shum Deil. The way Emi acted, he had the notion that Shum Deil also didn’t say anything to her.
Not like it was much of a secret.
They had been out in the open day after day, but they still treated it like one.
Sae only met Shum Deil once in the week before the midterms. Throughout their practice, Sae was distracted. He reacted slower than usual, eyes narrowing as he became cooped up in his head.
Shum Deil tried to chat; he didn’t know what had gotten into Sae. “How is it, that just in a week, you got even more tenacious?”
“Huh?” Sae asked after a few seconds. They had already run more than three thousand metres and were currently walking it off around the park. “I dunno. Guess I’m in a hurry.”
“For what? More studying before the exams that loom right over our heads?” Shum Deil acted flippant as usual. “It’s not even tomorrow. There are still days to go, so why do you work so hard? It’s not like you need it.”
“Well,” Sae said. All these weeks had passed, yet he doubted that Shum Deil crammed a word into that head of his. “Not everyone can afford to be as unconcerned as the test god of year one, class E.”
For once, Sae’s reply wasn’t perfunctory. His tone came out a little cutting. His face was gloomy.
“What’s wrong with that?” Shum Deil asked.
His blunt provocation baffled Sae. “Excuse me?”
Shum Deil blinked at him. “Does it piss you off that I don’t care about the tests?”
It was precisely these kinds of comments that made Sae feel inadequate and sceptical about talking to Shum Deil regarding academics. He said, full of disdain, “It pisses me off if someone tries to perceive me so offhandedly.”
Shum Deil actually chuckled. “I wasn’t offhanded. That was my serious and sincere opinion.”
“Keep it then,” Sae countered.
Shum Deil sighed. “You’re clearly agitated, but I didn’t say anything wrong. Why are you picking a fight?”
“I have to work hard for what I know,” Sae said, looking down at the ground. “I’m not playing around here! While you boast so easily like it’s on par with breathing, saying you don’t need time to study because you already know everything. You can take whatever exam, take it whenever. Well, good for you!”
“Yes,” Shum Deil nodded, “But I’m the same. I also work for what I know. Why are you so hung up on misinterpreting everything I say? Contrary to popular belief, I’m not mocking you every time I open my mouth.”
Sae knew he was being unreasonable, too flustered and somewhat unfair to Deil. And still, every time he remembered their conversations regarding this topic, in his memories, Deil always came off as overly arrogant. Sae felt he’d be made fun of for taking this so seriously; he had been made fun of for the same thing since he was little.
When Sae started primary school, he found that studying was something he could do, much like how his mother worked hard so they could have a good life. He didn’t like studying that much, but was liking things always good? Sae thought his job as a student was to study well, so he took academic achievement as something crucial.
Of course, kids that age were seldom of that mindset. Sae got teased a fair amount, shunned for not being fun, but that only made him more reserved. In those years, Sae wanted to show that he was fun too, but not many kids tried to get close enough to experience it.
Not until Teo became his deskmate in year two.
Bede Teo was a wild card in their class, a pinch of fire of a boy. Teo nagged Sae until he opened up, until he became friends with the other kids as well.
As they grew up, studying and academic accomplishments mattered more and more. The kids who laughed at Sae a few years prior started to envy his composure. It wasn’t that he was boring. He just understood something years before others did.
That didn’t mean he forgot all about it. Like a conditioned habit, Sae became apprehensive about sharing certain aspects of his privacy. Let it be as simple as his daily life or something personal like his deep-rooted habits.
In addition he had a nasty temper, but he wasn’t difficult the way others said he was. The more embarrassed he felt, the more it flared up, lashing out or becoming extremely stuffy.
Sae didn’t answer.
One of his biggest faults was that he never wanted to back down. If he felt pissed, his resolution was to move on. Quick and effective, even if it didn’t solve anything.
“We’re done here,” Sae said and turned to leave. He did that the last time he was angry at Deil and planned to repeat it. “Good luck with the midterms.”
“Hey,” Deil reached out and grabbed Sae’s arm.
That made Sae pause. In the past, not many people tried to stop him.
Deil was still speaking to him, albeit he seemed exasperated. “Are you really going?”
Sae glared at Deil. “Otherwise?”
“Drink something before you go.” Deil let go of his arm. “If you drink or eat something sweet, you’ll be less unreasonable and stop bickering over nothing. Have you thought about what I should treat you to?”
Sae had the impulse to tell Deil, Who had time for that? He didn’t take their bet seriously to start with. It surprised him that Deil was taking it seriously.
Question marks popped out to circle Sae’s head, but this puzzling affair also dulled his vexation.
“I’ll tell you next time,” he said after a moment, “Besides. You paid last time, so I ought to treat you today.”
“When was that?” Deil shook his head, “You’re still keeping tabs?”
