After the merriment of Game Day, reality knocked on every student’s life. Grade slips were handed out at the start of the week. Teachers talked about what they experienced in the grading process and what mistakes occurred the most. With that, M High crossed into the second half of the semester – the last part of the year.
By that time, the heated conflicts between the two first year classes had gradually ebbed away. Neither the humanities nor the science class could one-up the other during the sports day meet. In the final ranking, both finished in the middle of the first year tabulation.
Considering that to be a failed clash of adversaries, the fact that Shum Deil didn’t participate in the midterms ranking gave the humanities class one last sliver of hope. Or so they thought.
Sae’s condition was excellent for this round of tests, and he placed first in the year. Their class average, though, was especially poor this time. Instead, the science class took a stand. Their class average was almost the best, and yet none of the students could squeeze into the top ten. Truly a wonder.
Astonished by the outcome, the two classes left their mutual distaste to pass with the spring breeze; neither had the face to brag. There also wasn’t a need to; their results spoke for themselves.
Deil didn’t go to school. He strained his ankle too much last week and had to stay home to recuperate for a week. It was a surprise for some, but Sae had already known about it.
In Year 1 Class C, their average score wasn’t the sole cause of perplexity. Most of the students’ performance had fluctuated – almost unreasonably so. The reason could be a number of things. They were overexcited about the sports day meet. Spring made them play around too much. Or, after almost a year, they were too accustomed to high school life and thus became lazy between the more important trials like the end-of-term exams.
Their head teacher, however, didn’t seem concerned. Pan Rita told the class to prepare more next time and stop wallowing in things that had already passed.
“That’s it for today’s lesson. Remember to get the slip signed by a guardian and bring it back for homeroom later this week.” Pan Rita dismissed the class.
The moment she stepped out of the room, Teo turned sideways and knocked on Kaikai’s slip. “How much did you get?”
Kaikai chuckled. “What?”
“Maths.”
Sae glanced up as well. Today, he felt more drained than usual. When Pan Rita told the class that he had taken first place in the year, he had to shrink down, pulling his neck back. If people didn’t say he was awesome they said he only got there because of this or that, finding something to criticise. That alone was bothersome. What Sae preferred were those who didn’t say anything, probably because they had no opinion on the matter.
“A hundred and thirteen points,” Kaikai replied, his tone filled with satisfaction.
“Simply the work of gods,” Teo sighed with a shake of his head, “What kind of hacks do you run on?”
In the humanities class, only three people got over 110 points in maths – their sworn enemy. Granted, this test paper was a bit tricky, as the maths teacher had put it. That meant mere mortals could only dream of a 110+ final score.
Kaikai burst into laughter. “Pointless to ask me, it’s all on my private lessons, and those don’t run on hacks. Go and knock on the neighbouring estates’ doors.”
“Even if you send him, he won’t ask me,” Sae interjected.
“Ask, ask. Do I even need to?” Teo pointed at Sae. “He’s insane with a mentality like that – the mental fortitude of studying nonstop. Don’t need to mention it.”
This time of the morning, the sun blazed on their side of the school building. The tips of Teo’s hair glimmered gold as he twisted to look at Minke. “And the girl next door...” Before he could finish his sentence, he shut his mouth.
Minke knew she blew the maths exam. On the day of the test she had already told the boys she didn’t do well. Yet, when she realised how many points she got on this subject, a main subject at that, she couldn’t help the tears well in her eyes. She bowed her head, and the tip of her nose turned pink.
“Little friend next door,” Teo tried, voice soft, “What’s the matter?”
To this, Minke only squeezed her hands harder into fists. Her lips were drawn into a thin straight line, but that line wobbled.
Teo didn’t know how to coax her. Other than zipping his mouth, he was out of ideas. He sent a panicked look at the two sitting behind him.
“Hey,” Sae started but hesitated. Comforting others wasn’t his forte. Don’t cry. It’s okay. You’ll do better next time; you always do. Why was it so hard to say that out loud?
Kaikai reached over and patted Minke’s back. “It’s okay. It’s only one exam. Your condition wasn’t good, that’s all.”
No one knew what went down in the girl who always seemed steadfast. After a moment, Teo signalled for Kaikai to sit back. He ran his hand over Minke’s long hair, telling her in a low voice, Don’t cry.
It would’ve been a lot easier to ask one of the female classmates to help calm Minke down. What did these boys know about consoling a girl?
Teo swapped seats with Minke and made sure others wouldn’t notice if she cried. Without knowing the real cause of the problem, he could only try his best.
After the midterms, some students felt relieved and some students felt remorseful. Everyone got affected in different ways. Out of all those students, however, one middle school little girl didn’t care about trivialities like grades.
The reason? She was going to a concert on her birthday.
Emi had been excited ever since Sae had shown her the tickets; it seemed she couldn’t bear to wait even a few days. She took Sae to the concert, of course. Who else could she go with?
Emi was a year and a half younger than Sae which meant she turned fifteen today. On the way to the venue, she asked Sae, “Were any of your classmates born on the same day as you?”
The bus they took juddered down the street. Its driver thought he was filming a movie; the bends were sharp and sudden.
“I don’t think so.” Sae reached out a hand to stabilise himself. “How would I know even if they were? We’re not that close as to know everyone’s birthday.”
Emi sighed, “Then good for you, and it’s not about being close. There’s a guy in our year; he also turns fifteen today. He had posted about it online and now sends me updates about how many people have wished him a happy birthday. He knows it’s also my birthday and tries to make it into some competition.”
“You’re not playing, right?” Sae didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Kids were obstinate about the weirdest things nowadays. “That’d be really childish.”
“I didn’t want to, but he’s been messaging me throughout the day! Look, it’s at least his third message about it.”
Sae leaned closer and read the chat on Emi’s phone. “What were his other messages?”
“He wished me a happy birthday and... Look at this–”
––I’m currently in the lead by 300+ wishes!
Sae’s brows crinkled. “Does he have a feud with you?”
“He has a Youtube channel. He wanted me to be in one of his school-related vlogs, but I refused and forbade him to upload any footage with me in it.”
Actually, Emi had quite a bit of a following on social media. Although she never posted anything staged nor promoted brands, her knack for aesthetic shots piqued some interest. She rarely posted pictures of herself, but whenever she did, the feedback was exuberant.
Emi tsk’d. “He’s so annoying! If I wanted to broadcast my face, I could do it myself!”
“Maybe he wants to seem cool?” Sae leaned back, no longer looking at the screen.
Emi shook her head. “He seems like an ass. Nothing else, though. Whatever, I’ll take some pictures during the concert and hint about the joyous occasion. We’ll see who gets more hype for being born today.”
The concert turned out to be more lavish than Sae had previously thought.
Emi had the time of her life. She took picture after picture, recording videos and whatnot. At one point, Sae got pulled into becoming her cameraman – his job was to make a brilliant clip about Emi raving to her favourite song. The smile and delight on her face were gorgeous.
Emi knew the lyrics to every song, and although Sae didn’t want to admit it, he knew most of the choruses too.
Before the show started, Emi had bought a handful of general light sticks for Sae while she proudly swung the group’s official light stick around. Actually, Sae didn’t do much. He bobbed his arm up and down at the right places, watched and listened to the vocals. The special effects took his breath away at times.
When the fans started chanting the lines and slogans woven into the songs, he took a short clip and sent it to Deil without further comment. In the video, his voice was barely a whisper, deliberately pushed down to become a tease. Nonetheless, it showed that he knew those chants. That was what made it all the more hilarious.
Deil wrote back, and even in the whirlwind of the concert, Sae felt the phone’s vibrations in his pocket.
Bang: Dare you to scream it as it should be!
Sae burst into laughter.
Emi was hyper all the way home. She already posted online and told Sae all about how she felt and what she thought. It was a disjointed and vibrant review but all the more heartfelt.
“And then when Reila sang her solo, I almost burst out crying,” she said as they walked through alleys. She was too wound up to sit still, so they didn’t call for a taxi. Public transport was even more out of the question.
Sae bopped Emi’s head, “I know what happened. Hello? I was also there.” He reached his hand out, and Emi shook it.
“Nice to meet you. We attended the concert together.” Emi grinned at him. “Can you believe it?”
Sae smiled. “Yes, I can, but if you give me the rundown of your fan account one more time, maybe I’ll believe it was nothing but a fever dream.”
Walking through a warm evening with the scent of flowers in the air felt nice. They had to pick up the cake on their way back, then celebrate with their mothers.
“Sae, let’s take a picture!” Emi stopped and pulled out her phone. “I want to remember how we both looked at this moment. When I’m thirty, I’ll pull this picture out and tell everyone about the amazing birthday present you gave me.”
Sae was somewhat miffed, but he indulged the little girl. They took a few pictures. Emi chose the best one where – as she put it – she only looked half-bad. She said her still feverish eyes seemed a bit creepy while captured. “On the other pictures, it looks like I’m on something sketchy… Let’s not scare anyone.”
They arrived at the bakery’s front door. Sae told Emi to wait for him outside. After he returned with a big white box, Emi said, “I sent you the photo. No sharing it with just anyone, okay? I don’t want others to laugh at how I look.” She crouched and tried to peer inside the box, sticking her nose out for an investigative sniff. “What kind did you order?”
“Who would I send it to? I bet you’ve already shared it with everyone I’d possibly want to entertain with it,” Sae said, amused. He pulled Emi up by the arm. “Not telling you what kind. Let’s wait until we get home.”
“I smelled strawberries. Is it strawberry cake?”
Sae shook his head. “No. Your mum said she won’t order something I can’t eat.”
“Tch, good to know Mum’s so attentive to your likes and dislikes. How really precious you are.” Emi licked her lips. She sprang into motion, her hair bobbing with each step. “The concert warmed my heart so much that it’s no longer important. It can be your favourite cake, and I’d still enjoy it. Let’s hurry back. I want to see what kind it is.”
That night, Sae read through his notifications. Emi had been right; after she uploaded the short clips of the concert, her post got 5k likes as well as 800+ comments – most of which contained some form of well-wishes for her birthday. There was no way she didn’t win that stupid competition.
The atmosphere in the group chat with all the childhood friends turned lively too. Teo and Kaikai spammed lines of Princess! We bless this day for giving us the opportunity, followed by tagging Sae and asking him when they'd receive their concert tickets for their birthdays.
Sae only wrote three sentences at the bottom of the chat.
––Is it your birthday yet? No? Then piss off.
In his room, it felt like the air got trapped only to swelter into a bubble. Sae wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts. He stretched out under the open window, enjoying the night breeze.
Earlier when he was waiting for the cake in the bakery, Deil had messaged him, but he only noticed it now.
Bang: Never would’ve thought a girl group concert could paint such a big smile onto the esteemed young master’s face. It’s blackmail material, so I’ll treasure it well.
Sae was too lazy to type, so replied by voice message, “What blackmail? You forgot who saved you from living the rest of your life with a damaged leg?”
He locked his phone and rolled onto his side. Sometimes when he couldn’t fall asleep after an eventful day, he once again went over all that had happened. Sae stared at the shadows on the wall for a while, unblinking.
The phone screen emitted light with an incoming notification. It was a voice message from Deil. “It wasn’t that bad, though? I have medical papers stating it’s only a second-degree sprain. You can call and speak with my doctor as a reference. At any rate, I think you’re overestimating your contribution.”
A small private smile stole its way onto Sae’s face. He added one line: Git.
In his reply, Deil guffawed for a while and mocked, “You need a bit more practice but otherwise I approve. Fan chants go go~~”
Sae was really lazy. The sheets under his cheek felt refreshing with their coolness. Instead of typing, he put the phone next to his head and tapped to record. “Who dusted you off to talk so big? Also, this is a non-charitable zone. We don’t need fake goods here so take your approval somewhere else.”
To this, Deil first wrote back a string of hahaha.
Bang: You are quite savage.
That last message… Sae didn’t deign it worthy of a reply.
It was pretty fascinating how quickly he could form a stupid bond with Deil. They chatted without much thought. Deil could evoke the urge to let the nerves in his brain log off, his childishness poking out to have fun.
Since Sae didn’t answer that last line, he thought there’d be another provocative message ready to tease him, but he didn’t get any. Fiddling in the app using only a fingertip, he called Deil on a whim.
The phone rang twice before Deil picked up, yet he couldn’t say a word before he got interrogated.
“That’s it?” Sae asked the moment the line got connected, not waiting for a second.
After the momentary surprise, Deil chuckled and greeted in a raspy voice, “Hi.”
Ultimately, Sae called without thinking things through. Now that he was in line with the other, he wasn’t sure what to say. He had planned to tease Deil for giving up so easily, but the line got quiet after Deil’s hi.
Sae wanted to turn and prop himself to another position, but his bed was creaky. If he moved around and the bed made a noise, the phone call would turn awkward. Hence, he only raised his neck at an uncomfortable angle.
“Hey,” he said, sprawled on his side.
He heard Deil laugh lowly. “How was the concert? From what I saw, Emi enjoyed herself immensely.”
“Mnm, she did. It was okay.” Sae cleared his throat. He picked at a string of linen on his bedspread. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine now that the swelling went down,” Deil spoke in a low voice. It was different from how he sounded in person. “Today, I got a call from Teacher Pan. She nagged me for a while, but I didn’t know how to respond. She’s not even my head teacher.”
“What did she say?”
“Just... to stay put. Don’t mess around and make things worse,” Deil snickered, “She also threatened me. Listen to this. If I dare skip more lessons than needed, she will put me back into her little club.”
Sae propped himself up on his elbow, flopping onto his stomach with a laugh. “Well, what can I say? She wants you in the school’s display case: Shum Deil, first place.”
“Can she not?!” Deil let out a breath. “A display case is too small; I’m more of a wild monkey.”
“Yeah,” Sae agreed.
“It was hard for me to handle that conversation,” Deil admitted, “Like, what could I say? My head teacher only told me to rest well, and we haven’t talked ever since...”
“Teacher Shem is old. He knows when to give in and give up,” Sae said, “However, Teach Pan is stubborn. She won’t leave you alone so easily. She only looks timid but is actually enthusiastic.”
“That, I’ve noticed.” Deil’s tone subtly changed. He continued after a pause, like he had to catch up with all the thoughts running in his head and chose one to tease Sae with, “Did you not sing any fan chants?”
“Do you want me to hang up?” Sae asked, completely done.
“Can you say goodbye with a fan chant? I’m really curious about it.”
“Bye, Deil.”
“Hey,” the boy called out to him, “Since you already brought it up. Er, for helping me out that time, how about I take you to play somewhere?”
“Are you allowed to move with that leg?” Sae wasn’t surprised by Deil’s offer. He kind of anticipated it after the mention of that night, but Deil didn’t look to be in a state to keep his word. “You said the swelling only went down––”
“I still need to eat, though?” Deil cut him off.
“Treating me to a meal...” Sae dragged his voice out, “How is that playing?”
The other end of the line went quiet. “...I can pay for games at the arcade later?”
“Forget that,” Sae said, “Let’s say you owe me once. If I have trouble with anything, I’ll call you. Okay?”
Deil chuckled. “Okay.”
They chatted for a while longer. Since it was a weeknight, Sae still had to go to school tomorrow.
He felt sleepy; it had been a long time since he had talked with someone this much on the phone. Usually, all his friends knew when to engage him to participate in a conversation and when to let him pull back and observe a little. A two-way back and forth wasn’t like that. It was always different with a group of friends than just two people holding a conversation.
Sae seldom called others. He talked the most with Teo during games, but sharing combat strategies was another kind of talk.
Sae liked to talk in person and watch the other’s reactions first hand. It was much easier to decipher their mood and whatnot from a personal visage. Hearing someone’s voice alone made him nervous. He had to listen extra hard for the possible emotional fluctuations which, in turn, made him tired.
Of course, Deil didn’t know these things. For one, they were not acquainted deeply enough for him to know about them. For another thing, Deil was easy to read. He didn’t pretend to say one thing and then mean another. His tone and manner of speech were perfectly in line with his initial meaning.
Deil let his mouth go and pulled Sae in to answer over and over again. He wasn’t mouthing off only to hear his own voice. His philosophy was rather easy, If I tell you something, I expect you to do the same. I share a thought about this, and then you reciprocate. It was the most natural, basic flow of back and forth.
Communication should be like this; yet, outside the space of personal meetings, it often failed miserably. When everyone only wanted to hear themselves, was only curious about their own opinion or the echo of it, the focus inevitably tilted from I want to hear both you and me just as clearly, alternating our voices. So answer, and I will pay attention.
Teens were self-centred. Seemingly, if a group of friends fit the standard of 'mainstream', that was enough. At first glance, these relationships were fickle and perfunctory, but stemming from their stubborn nature, they held deep bonds. They only needed some understanding and some looking into, like fogged-up glass or a ripple of a reflection.
