Redlands Intro 2

Through my lifetime my dad took me outside the walls two different times, telling me on either occasion to keep it a secret from mom. It wasn’t illegal per se, but it definitely wasn’t welcomed by the government. Nobody except for those trained to be outside the walls were permitted outside, my dad having trained for two and a half years to even apply for his job (granted there wasn’t a steep competition for it). Yet there was a loophole that allowed young trainees under the supervision of licensed officials to be permitted outside in designated ‘training’ areas. Scout programs considered scouts as ‘trainees’ for logistic purposes, so my dad filled out the paperwork for me and put me in his friend’s troop-consisting of other kids that went on excursions with their parents. One was on the most northeastern edge of the Lands, a mini dock where people were trained to fish. The other was an insulated combat and defense training area, typically filled with men and women that lived in the barracks. The descriptions my dad used never instilled a desire in me to go; looking back at it now I think he intentionally emphasized the worse aspects of that area, so I’d never bring it up again.
One Saturdas we woke up early and he offered to take me to the docks, knowing full well that mom was going to be doing overtime for a while. She worked at an office job, analyzing consumer trends in the commercial district to change advertising strategies and boost sales. Other than shops run out of your home (illegally), everything bought and sold went through this district. The government’s expansion project would be bringing the Lands further south soon, making incentives for residents to move. Although my mom told me through casual conversation that she would rather stay than move, she said the incentives could make it worth it. Being further away from school would be a hassle, and I’d probably end up being one of those kids that stays in the dorms or bunks with a friend on the weekends. But I guess it wouldn’t bother me if it meant less stress on my parents.
I felt like my mind had been really busy that month-always wondering in the back of my head if we’d be moving further away from everyone I knew and separating me from them from the school year. I remember pressing my legs against the rumbling floor of the transport pod and looking out the window. Then I remember being outside the window, dangling my legs over the dock and hopping my vision over the horizon. My dad opened his tackle box, delicately dusting his calloused hands over the multicolored lures. My peripherals caught the shimmer of a light green and my neck pivoted my face towards the gleam under my dad’s fingertips.
I tugged my legs up onto the pier and watched as my dad picked up the lure, acknowledging me as he twisted around between his thumb and forefinger. He stretched his hand towards me, as if urging me to take it. My left hand bridged the gap and met the smooth surface of the lure, avoiding the hook nimbly as he pulled his hand back into the box.
“You can look through some of these if you want. One of my coworker’s neighbors makes these as a hobby. He’s a high schooler.”
I began sorting through them as I began sorting through my head again. The water slushed against the pier and my hands languidly circling the box, I felt like the stillness of the atmosphere was slightly comforting. Like I could stop time for a second before everything just exploded in my face.
A trio of birds glided through the emerging sun peaking in the distance, and I dropped my hands to the side of the box as my dad arranged the fishing pole upright. A moment passed and I heard their faint squawks echoing in the distance. I sighed as I let the rough wood of the pier scratch my hands as I drew circles with my finger pads.
“Do you know how to tie knots?”
His voice honestly scared me, as it opposed his almost stone state.
“Only when I mess up tying my shoes.”
He didn’t press it further, just grunting in response as he reeled in a small pale fish. Its glassy eye stayed put, seemingly bug-eyed as its bottom wriggled unrhythmically about. Like he was handling an ant, my dad plucked it off and put it into the small bucket sitting next to his feet.
“You can take one of the lures in the top right corner if you want. They’re decoration mostly.”
The tips of my fingers leaped toward the biggest, brightest one in the corner and for a second I remembered to appreciate the small things.
***
My room was in shambles, like a mine had been set off in a school library and heaps of paper and mini manuals scattered themselves on my bed. Highlighter colored manuals held titles in all-caps, giving no semblance of friendliness. Assorted shirts and bottoms were strewn around on my floor, most of them in taking space in three color coordinated laundry heaps. At some point I had the motivation to take down some of the childish posters off my wall and throw them ungraciously in a stack near my door. The desk right next to my bed was a mess, but my desk organizational skills have always been lacking so it wasn’t too bad in the scheme of things.
A week ago our school had a presentation about the free summer program for students transitioning to high school, placing us in two mini elective classes of our choosing for the three months leading up to actual classes starting. Basically every student that wasn’t in summer classes or had rec center responsibilities was pushed to do it, besides my parents. Herdol’s parents had been actively pushing him sign up for classes ever since the assembly. Eteri’s parents, on the other hand, picked out the classes in place of her and tossed the pamphlets on her desk, not even letting her know what they chose for her. They reasoned that it would be a pleasant surprise for her come Nes, but knowing her parents it likely wouldn’t be a pleasant one.
During the presentation a chipper lady told us that we would be assigned room partners based on whatever our first choice class was (granted we were placed in). For a brief moment I considered just picking whatever Herdol did so I could have a familiar face in the class, but then I remembered how different our interests were. The mere thought of having to do into a workshop class made me shudder, and the idea was scrapped. Her wide set smile kept floating around the stage as she continued to discuss the logistics of the project. I figured either someone gave her happy pills or she got paid good money to talk about bedsheets to barely-teens. In any case her exuberance was lost on me, and I just waited for the next demonstrators to discuss what we’d actually be doing.
I’d pushed the dilemma of choosing my top three class picks aside for a week now; telling myself that the speech I needed for class warranted extra attention when it truly didn’t. Three booklets sat in front of me with blue, green, and yellow covers respectively. Assorted pamphlets were on either side of them, most of them describing the selection process and what the program entails. Although most middle schoolers have already gotten accustomed to on-campus housing, some of the other Havens didn’t require their students to stay on-campus if they lived close enough. My homeroom teacher babbled the other day about the main education council’s debate of the program’s logistics, finding issues every year in coordinating it nation-wide. His gruff voice spit ‘I just don’t understand these coastal Havens! Every year parents push for off-campus housing just so they can mindlessly surf instead of doing their homework.’ I never saw the point of mandatory on-campus housing (especially when so many students slipped out anyways) so I slowly pulled out my phone as his shrill voice began peppering more insults about the Northern Haven into his ramblings.
Just like I ignored my homeroom teacher, I frankly ignored most of the program instructional and the presenters that spoke about the less popular classes. A weird assortment of kids in the back of the lecture hall muttered amongst themselves when a presenter took an extra few minutes setting up their presentation, leaving us with only the dimmed lights pointed onto the screen in the giant lecture hall with a little over 130 students. After I sent off a few messages to my homeroom friends, a spotlight illuminated the once black silhouette of an older woman, whose gray, crinkly hair was tied up into a bun on the top of her square face. Her expression appeared youthful-as if you could take her face off and reveal a younger self inside-and she began to introduce herself to the audience. Whispers started loitering the space near I was sitting, some louder voices snickering about her lazy eye.
“Cut it out,” a demand shot out in a speaking voice instead of a whisper, startling me a bit at how it boomed from directly behind me. A sarcastic, ‘pfft, ok’ responded as a careful whisper and the murmurs went completely silent. The quietness of the room was strange as the woman began to dive into her powerpoint about the marketing class, foregoing large info graphics in favor of talking directly to the crowd-unlike most of the presenters before her.
Although I couldn’t quote anything the woman said, I found the woman’s enthusiasm inspiring in some way. A week later, sitting in my room, that was the only face I could remember. My hands reached towards the blue booklet titled ‘BUSINESS AND COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY’ and flipped through the pages as I scanned in search of the ‘Marketing’ title. At seeing ‘Typing/Word Processing’, I landed the palm of my hand on the left page and began messily flipping back. At some point I saw the title ‘Media Technology’ and, rather than just skip by I stared at it for a second, having no vague clue as to what that even is.
Like the rest of the classes, the rest of the page under the title held a brief summary of the elective in front of a blurred photo of an electronic billboard. ‘Different types of media will be analyzed in this course, including video production and web technology. An assortment of careers will be discussed in depth, and possible job shadow opportunities will appear from many networking opportunities. No experience in these fields is needed to take this course.’ The first week class outline was shown on the next page as well as needed materials for the class, and I briefly scanned over it. Even though my interest in media was purely superficial, the dues for the class seemed cheaper than the other ones that I’d scanned and it seemed like a more flexible course. I dog-eared the page and wrote it down on a yellow note card, continuing to go through the booklets.
Swiftly I scanned the green and yellow books, scribbling some other names onto the note card if I had the slightest curiosity in them. So far it listed: Media Technology, Marketing, Architectural Design, Financial Management, and an Introduction to Sign Language course. Aside from the three pamphlets full of classes, a glossy brochure titled ‘Where the Outside Could Take You’ laid near my foot, seeing as everything shifted when I laid down to get comfortable. I turned over onto my back and sat up, pinching at it and bringing it to my face. The eyes of 6 women and 6 men stared back at me, eyes crinkled as they smiled, their plain white shirts and camo pants all uniform unlike the shapes of their faces that laid their backgrounds and ethnicities. After opening it the same people stared back with serious expressions, now dressed in navy blue uniforms with an assortment of chevrons and stripes attached to their person.
Although my dad had an Outside job and I was accustomed to being around the training ground, something about these early-start scout programs rubbed me the wrong way. Other than the fact that I couldn’t join one (as I technically was a scout already because of my dad), most scouts seemed pompous to the point that merely seeing anyone walking around in one of the black varsity jackets annoyed me. It didn’t help that Herdol’s eldest sister, Ambra, used to always wear her boyfriend’s and I always associate them with her head spinning around a corner, bitching about something minor like shoes sprawled out near the front door.
Even though I was always up to trying new things, committing to two and a half months of the scout experience was entirely out of my frame of mind. Faint knocks hinted into my bedroom, making me glance over my shoulder and respond with a, “Come in.”
My mom, who spent most of the day over with her sister, appeared as the door creaked open. She seemed tired from whatever she’d been doing over there, but nonetheless smiled faintly as she peeked in.
Already knowing what she wanted to say I grabbed the yellow note card and raised it up in the air. “I’ve narrowed down the classes I wanna take.”
“Good,” she drawled, sounding relieved that she didn’t have to ask for a fourth time. “Do you think you can get that done today?”
I paused, a sound sticking in my neck and refusing to form words.
“I’ll try to.”
With that she nodded her head and grunted in acknowledgement, receding back into the hallway and saying a fast ‘Night’.
With my homework in the back of my mind, I stared at the note card for a few seconds before heading towards my desk and picking up a stray form-the official application for the summer program. I filled out my basic information during the presentation, so the only thing left to fill out was the parent signature and the requested classes. Without putting too much thought into it, I sighed and filled the section with three random classes and called it a night.
***
An electronic ping bumbled through the classroom and immediately the right section of students pushed out into the hallway and dispersed, a blob of white button-ups following each other like livestock being corralled. My desk partner waved bye to me and I gave a fake grin in response, seeing the loudest member of the class (including the teacher) walk out, his scout jacket hanging out of his camo bag a little bit. I reached down and looped my fingers around my backpack strap, turning the bag around to reveal a small assortment of old pins that I could take off but wouldn’t until I found replacements. Swiftly I shrugged it onto my shoulders over my maroon hoodie and followed behind my fellow slow-moving classmates, waddling around the short bench awkwardly to avoid hitting a sharp edge of the desk.
Streams of people all began moving to the right and I merged left, standing just to the side of the door as stragglers meandered out of first floor classes and the rush of students coming down from the second floor began to permeate the hall. As I pushed myself against the wall and stood awkwardly to the side of the classroom door, a long line of girls squeezed by, the short one nearest attempting to avoid me but nearly missing hitting my chest with her shoulder. She scoffed then kept on with her friends, her voice cascading through the hallway as she continued to talk trash with her friends. I rolled my eyes, looking to the left again as people gave me the tiniest bit of space to wait, my hands resting on the small of my back, right on the seam of my gray skirt and tucked beneath the squared-off backpack now pressed against the wall.
After a few more seconds of awkwardly glancing around the hallway and avoiding eye contact with people I vaguely recognized, a red-orange blob of hair appeared as it moved along the wideset staircase and brought Herdol fully into view. He waved goodbye to one of his classmate friends as they turned the corner at the bottom of the steps then dotted his eyes around the crowd, finally stopping when he noticed my brown ones, with my fingers pulling on the skin beneath them just to tease him. He stuck his tongue out in response, warranting a curious look from the random girl next to him. He put his tongue back and awkwardly waved to her, darting away as started speed-walking toward me. I coughed to contain my laugh and he quickly stopped in front of me, with an expression as if he wanted to say something.
“What’s up?” I offered, leaning on my shoulder and getting more comfortable now that the big rush was gone.
“Oh!” He spat out, his face lighting up as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. “Eteri grabbed me as I was walking out and said she was staying back with a classmate for test review. We can just go.”
“Oh, okay,” I turned around as he stepped over and started walking out alongside him. “That means we won’t have to wait for a group pod.”
“Well it never seems like a really long wait when we have Eteri with us,” he pointed out, sliding a backpack strap off. “Hey, could you pull out my sweatshirt?”
I replied back with a lazy Sure and hastily unzipped and pulled out his navy blue sweatshirt by the arm, hoping that nothing would fall out in the process. I threw it at him and decided to just pick his backpack up by the top hook as he shoved the sweatshirt around his head and pushed his arms through the armholes. As soon as he had it on him he mustered a Thanks, sliding one strap around his shoulder and pushing open the exit door with his left hand.
The slightly chilled air hit us immediately as we got out, the shade of the trees covering us from the sun’s warmth. The long, creamer-colored building was completely behind us as we stepped out onto one of the building’s many side doors, some stone benches sitting underneath the trees as we asked each other about our classes. A large, opened gate begged us to leave the school grounds and we walked towards it, both happy enough to head for Herdol’s house.
The majority of people that went out the side exits were heading towards their dorms across the bridge, these giant buildings with maybe seven unflattering stories to them sitting there like dominos begging to be pushed over. Some suits would scan their IDs for them in their booths to speed up the process, and their efficiency made me jealous seeing as anyone waiting in line for a pod after school had to get their faces scanned individually-even for the busloads. We turned right past the dorm complex and walked right outside the school walls, another shade-covered sidewalk leading us to some four person pods a little ways away. The trees to our left masked the giant cables the pods moved around on, although the I’m sure front of the school held the ugly congestion of both people and cable pathways heading off in rounded pathways suspended high up in the air right about now.
“I still can’t believe you picked random classes for the Summer Elective Program,” Herdol interjected randomly, stopping me from imaging any more of the congestion we missed.
“I really didn’t, I just chose from a list of classes I’d narrowed it down to.” Some people don’t have hyperspecialized interests like you, Herdol. “I still don’t know what test I’m going to be taking in Demeca so I really had no idea what classes I should pick.”
“You have the same math grades as me and you never study. I’m sure you could attend one study session of each and ace whatever test you decide to take.”
“Yeah,” I started, “But you’re missing my point. If I ace the wrong test then what good does that do me?”
He patted my shoulder twice, waiting a few beats before saying anything.
“The Demeca tests aren’t a big deal when you have good grades. If you get into really hard classes they’ll let you out. They always give the students with the highest scores privileges when it comes to picking dropping and switching classes. You know my other sister Mona is in Grade 12 and admin let her move her classes around twice just because she’s in the top ten percent of her class. But hey, there’s always the scout program if you’re not feeling it,” he extended the last word, poking at my distaste of them.
“Eww,” I emphasized, thinking about my classmate from earlier. The tiny dots of people in line were now coming closer, the details of their jackets and backpacks appearing mere feet away from us. We both got behind a group of three girls, all wearing backpacks with a intricate patchwork designs in the same four bright colors, as if they all decided to do a DIY project together one day for fun. The rest of their fashion included semi-chic hairstyles-a low ponytail underneath a tilted brown beret, a curly bob cut with a small bowtie on the side, and a hair style with waterfall braid crossing the back of her long hair. They chattered the loudest among all of the people in line (which was maybe 15 people deep), complaining about how teachers wouldn’t stop promoting their after-school study sessions even though they wouldn’t be starting for at least two more months. I felt like I vaguely recognized the one in the beret as someone in the student council, but I didn’t keep track of every position.
“Didn’t Eteri say that she was gonna join the Winter Dance committee this year?” I asked, noticing how they quieted slightly with someone daring to speak at the decibel at them.
“I know she said it once a while ago. Applications came out today but who knows if she got one.”
“She-“ A loud gasp from the girl with bobbed hair in front of us making all of the chatter stop.
“I totally forgot about debate meeting today! Would you guys care if you had to find another pod station?” Her stress punctuated every word as she frantically looked at both of them, her hair bouncing like springs as she moved her head. After some persistent just go!’s she hurried off the way we came from, waving back then turning around as she began to jog.
The remaining girls stepped to the side of the line, allowing me and Herdol to scoot up another place. At this point I’d lost my train of thought entirely.
“What were we talking about?”
Herdol pursed his lips and squinted, making a poor attempt to look like he was thinking hard. A loud clink of a shoe against the pavement and motion from our peripherals made us both turn to look at, once again, the two girls. The one with the red beret was looking at Herdol, a hand motioning towards him as she asked, “Don’t you live in my district?”
Another lightbulb went off in Herdol’s head again, his eyes lighting up like the light was pouring through him.
“Yeah, weren’t you at the same school stop last year?”
She nodded quickly, her friend awkwardly looking over at me, the both of us riding in the same boat of being on the sidelines.
“Yeah, I moved down to the smaller houses at the other end of the district so I’m on a different school pod now.”
A moment passed, Herdol obviously not knowing what to say in response.
“Uh, since we’re going the same way can we use the same pod? We don’t have enough money to override it.”
Without a beat he replied, “Sure! Yeah, of course. That’ll be good.”
She looked over to her friend and they smiled to each other, before both saying a loud Thank you! in unison. We both nodded, hearing one of the pods set off, quietly scratching against the metal as it lifted onto the cable, launching off and navigating toward the mess at the front of the school. We all moved behind the last group of people, still with an awkward air around us.
“I’m Carla, by the way. This is my friend Lili,” she gestured to the short girl on her left, “We’re in Grade 9.”
Behind us another pod closed and started its ascent up the metal bar, leaving us alone in front of the transport. The girls reached into the pockets of their jackets to pull out their IDs and I followed suit, anticipating Herdol to pull it out of his pant pockets (because, you know, guy uniforms actually have those).
“Us, too. I’m Makyra and this is Herdol.”
He slipped his ID out of his back pocket and showed it to them, rubbing his finger underneath his name.
“It’s spelled H-E-R-D-O-L but pronounced like Hair-dull. I know it sounds like gibberish but here’s the proof it isn’t.”
“Just because it’s a name doesn’t change the fact it’s gibberish,” I muttered, receiving only a should-I-laugh-at-that look from Lili, who was fiddling with zipper of her windbreaker as Carla turned around to let the ID scanner scan her face. After the green rays retracted themselves from her face she turned around again, her bleach blonde hair whipping her shoulder as she sidestepped to the right.
“If you hadn’t said anything I wouldn’t have thought much about it. Plus, why do I need to spell it?”
Lili stepped up, scanning her ID and letting the green senor graze over her face.
“Well,” he started, flustered. “I’ve seen it spelled wrong so many ways that I just get it out of the way early.”
“Yeah!” Lili interjected, surprising us as she’d seemed rather quiet. “My name is spelled with an I instead of a Y and all of my teachers got it wrong so far!” She whipped her head around (more viciously than Carla had) and stepped aside for me. “When our fashion club went to Demeca for a workshop and they misprinted my name on all of the papers. My partner was upset but it happens so often I’m just over it.”
Herdol and Lili started this big conversation about times their name had been misspelled (which was more times than they can count, apparently) and I scanned myself in, waiting for a gap in their conversation to motion him over. Herdol and Lili’s conversation was so animated, their rants running at miles per hour and throwing their hands around for emphasis. A few more stragglers pushed themselves in line and so far he’d been blind to my motions, so I cleared my throat loudly to gather his attention and finally have him scan in.
A few seconds later he was done, pressing the button to confirm the passengers would be riding with him, allowing a pod to leave the giant black box on our side, slide up to the cable and sit in front of our feet. Everyone quietly slipped in, the girls slipping to the right section and lounging around on the hard seats, backpacks pulled around to sit on their legs. I whipped into the left section, pulling off my backpack straps as I heard a familiar cheery voice say, “Where to?”
My mouth dropped, looking directly at Herdol as he stood next to me, maintaining a stone face as if nothing happened. Across the section you could see Carla’s wide eyes, round like serving platters in a feast of embarrassing presets.
“Tsipra District,” he carved his steady demand into the still air of the pod, tossing his bag on the ground and sitting next to me on the seat.
First it was Eteri with the damn Hagamanchi Goo Goo characters but…
“You too?” I laughed, amazed at how a 13 year old would allow the almost obnoxious voice of the protagonist to reverberate through the pod for a second.
His face stayed still for a few more seconds before pouting. “It was a bet I had with someone from swim. I’m keeping it for the week.”
“You had the option to choose Boobette and you chose Uani?”
All of our heads turned to Lili, her previously blank expression now quizzical and a sense of bafflement melting into her voice.
“Well…no, that was part of the bet,” he scratched at his head, not really feeling a want to elaborate on how it started. “When we go to the elementary school to promote the team I’m supposed to keep this theme on.”
“Well since they’re elementary schoolers they’ll probably like it,” Carla offered, her voice wavering a bit at the end. “My little sister watches it all the time.”
“Your sister is only a year younger than you.”
“That’s besides the point, Lili.”
As the weight of the pod shifted along the cable, we entered the front of the school, each pod shifting around the others to strategically slide by each other with no damage. 12 or so pods slid along the lines like water droplets on the stem of a leaf, larger pods with occupancies up to 15 being the primary ones, chugging along as faces either sat silently on their phones or were chatting with their friends. Although this seemed messy it paled in comparison to the actual front of the school, filled with a few hundred students just waiting in thick lines among the must and overly fruity perfumes of the crowd.
Our pod stayed to the left instead of inserting itself into the middle of the chaos, watching the flan-colored building get smaller and smaller as we exited through a dark tunnel, some subdued lights attempting to acclimate us to the vast change in lighting and doing a decent enough job at it. The orange hue of the lights colored our faces like runny makeup for a few seconds until it vanished, our pod now swimming in the daylight of the central district. Below us ran an abundance of yellows and greens, grass covering the park like baby hairs, surround a flat foundation in the center rich with lily pads and tiny fish. Pod depots were laid on the corners of the park, allowing visitors to come and go as they please. In one corner laid a stage, where a kid’s show full of various mascots was frolicking around.
Lili overtly turned toward the stage, smiling at the characters as everyone else’s eyes flirted around the rest of the park, looking at the people and various pods filling in full of children. Her head was tilted to look past Carla’s, whose tall stature mixed with her shorter one made it hard for her to see. She glanced up at her red beret, which had slowly shifted to the left side of her head during the day, the elastic probably getting worn. While Lili and Carla were clearly both put-together style-wise, Carla’s more sophisticated sense of style really contrasted with Lili’s, her pink windbreaker and sneakers making Carla seemed way overdressed in comparison. I still wonder how they thought of me and Herdol together in this encounter and if our impression of them was as strong as their impression of us.
Nimbly we slid into the Tsipra District, Herdol’s house only a little way’s away at this point. Carla’s bleach blonde hair hit the back of the glass window as she turned to look at our side of the pod, eyes connecting to Herdol’s.
“Thanks again for the ride, I really hate the large crowds in front of the school,” her voice warmly slid the words out, a genuine sense of appreciation felt by the both of us.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing. I didn’t even realize there was a fee if you took less than four into a pod…”
“What?” Lili deadpanned, her eyes forming slits as she narrowed them. “It costs 15 yeks to override a bigger pod like this.”
“What?? That’s like,” his sudden shortness of breath came out of nowhere as the reality hit him. “That’s like, 10 kebabs from Mez’s?” His eyes looked over at me for some response, not knowing how to articulate his thoughts.
“That’s your dad chewing your ass out, Herdol.”
His head shot from me back towards Carla, almost as if he was ignoring what I just said and the reality of it.
“I think I should thank you for needing a ride, then. Without you I wouldn’t have money for kebobs. Or my ass.”
We all felt our trip starting to come to a close, the four of us descending as the pod shifted to the left-most cable and our speed now moving us along at a snail’s pace. With the rush there was an assortment of people milling about on the street, a few businessmen walking around little groups of middle schoolers talking and playing on their handheld consoles in huddles. Our pod was next to another street hitting it perpendicularly, smaller houses just as elaborately decorated filling the streets.
Starting with Carla we all got up, holding onto the slick poles in the middle of the pods for stability as it jerked to a stop. The girls slid off before us, swinging their bags onto their backs in unison as if they’d practiced it in a dance routine. Herdol and I clumsily pulled our backpack straps onto our backs and followed behind, the pair stopped to the right of the exit. The pod shifted back on the second line to the black box, receding into it as a line of empty ones pulled up beside it, waiting for their turn.
“This is my street,” Carla pointed at the street the pod was previously blocking, the marigolds and daisies continuing down just the same.
“I guess this is goodbye, then. See you at school?” he replied, looking between the both of them and watching Carla drop her pointing hand into her cardigan to pull out her phone. She went through a few apps then held it out in front of us, a blank contact sheet out.
“Let me have one of your numbers so I can repay you.”
Herdol started waving his hands to reject it and before he could open his mouth to say no I grabbed it, putting in my info in a few seconds and handing it back. She seemed a little thrown off that I’d taken it so fast but she covered her initial action up with a smirk.
“I know you were just looking for an excuse to exchange numbers. Text me later if you want.”
Her deer eyes were out again, her hand clamped around her phone and her body unmoving. She shook her head and Lili tugged at her cardigan.
“We should go, her mom wanted us to help with something. See you at school!” She tugged on Carla’s left arm and they walked away, Carla smiling and waving as they half jogged under the high, high cables for the pods and past the sign designating the Tsipra District. We watched the pair walk away silently, Carla pulling Lili’s hand away from her and covering her face in embarrassment. As Lili tripped over a loose brick on the street I stopped wondering if their first impression of us was as distinct of our first impression of them. Our eyes met and Herdol stopped himself from laughing, realizing that their half-jog through the crowd was drawing the attention from the adults that were yelling at them to slow down before they ran into something. Somehow the situation reminded me of Eteri.
“How about we quietly walk home now?” He offered, pivoting around step by step until I turned to walk the other direction with him.
“Gladly,” I chipped, moving to the right of the pathway with him and scooting around the rest of the students. Their screens lit up in blues and greens on their faces as we side-stepped past, the way in front of us a little clearer now that we past their assumed game tournament.
“They should host game tournaments at the rec center,” he quipped as soon as we were out of their zone of echolocation.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t bring as big of a crowd as the swim team does, though, so maybe its better that they stick to street matches.”
“Pfft,” Herdol spit out dramatically, “Half of us are leaving the swim team next year anyways. Half of the audience will leave with us. A good ten people.”
“What?” My face cocked to the side and brow furrowed, not quite sure I heard what he was saying. “You’re leaving the team?”
His robot expression sat itself in front of my face and his family’s iron-y, no nonsense tone came out, flattening out the wrinkles in my forehead.
“All of the Grade 9’s are thinking about leaving before break. Our coach has been really wishy-washy and not coming to practices for dumb reasons. A few of us have started arranging new meeting dates and helping the members with no experience along. And they’re just wimps. The kid that hit his finger on the side ladder cried for ten minutes and just left the team.”
“Didn’t you guys complain about it to the rec center?” I asked, trying to disregard what he said about the kid hitting his finger. I did that one of the days the pool was free and haven’t been in it since.
He seemed exasperated. “Yeah…but it’s been two months and all it’s done is given us some lame excuses and a replacement that didn’t know what a butterfly stroke was.”
“Wait…so no more competitions? Are you guys going to give up just like that?”
He shook his head, his irritation bleeding into his words. “Well, my grades are beyond slipping, they’re on the ground shriveling in pain. Most of our top swimmers are Grade 9’s are we can barely run the team and do half of our work. And the new swimmers just suck. We’re just gonna set up some times ourselves and join the swim club when we get to tertiary school.”
A beat passed after Herdol gave a long sigh, his info dump weighing a little bit on both of us. I thought maybe I could make the mood lighter with a bad joke.
“Well, you won’t have to hear Eteri screaming from the sidelines anymore, so that’s nice.”
He faked a laugh for me and somehow I felt like I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe my expression showed pity or something but he avoided making eye contact with me, just watch my expression from his peripherals and scratching the back of his head as he looked forward. Herdol’s always tried too hard to play it cool.
“I won’t have to pretend that you two aren’t oogling the captain whenever he gets out of the water, either.”
“What? I didn’t do that!” I yelled in surprise, garnering a small pond of eyes looking in the direction of the noise. I would have normally been embarrassed seeing so many faces my age turn around to look, but in the emotion of it I just ignored them. “With as much as you bitch about him I couldn’t find him attractive anymore.”
“Anymore,” he mocked, his face contorting into an ugly expression.
My mouth dropped, not liking the implications of what he was saying one bit.
“You know what I meant. I don’t find dicks like him attractive at all.”
He let out a sarcastic mmhmm in response and we edged closer to his house, the wood numbers on the side of the door dark brown contrasting against the pale yellow of the sharp paneling. I puffed in response, quietly walking alongside him as he pulled out his key and let us into the warmth of his house with the faint smell of fabric softener gently entering my senses. I tossed my slide on shoes off and Herdol bent down, untied them both then did the same. The archway left led into the living room and the archway to the right led into a dining room, filled with some old paintings and rather ornate furniture compared to the rest of the house that was minimalistic and clean, most furniture a blocky brown with some mini sculptures here and there.
Herdol peeked into the living room, smiling forcedly when he saw someone in there.
“Can you guys use the rec room?” His sister Mona asked, her lighter-than-average voice tiredly asking.
He mmhm’ed and turned away, the happy façade off of his face. “Let’s put our bags in my room.”
I nodded my head and followed behind him, watching his fluffy white cat sitting curiously at the top. I think her name was Tabby, which was intentionally ironic. As we neared the top she padded away into his parents’ room and threw our bags haphazardly on the floor. Going down the hall we entered the bedroom-turned rec room, the tiny space filled with various exercise equipment underneath a giant yoga ball, a futon, a wide bookcase, and a work desk filled with various sketches and metal tools.
Herdol sat on the desk chair and I pulled the exercise ball over, bouncing a little bit on it as I balanced myself. “Sooo…where can we afford to take Eteri?” Her birthday was this weekend and we’d debated what type of food place to take her, seeing as every time we asked her if she was in the mood for anything she’d given a different answer. At the beginning of the week it was Smoothies. The next day it was Kebabs. Then fluffy pastries. Then fried fish. Then pasta.
“Nothing she’s been wanting to eat is that expensive. The problem is that there isn’t a stand that sells every type of food in the world.”
“There isn’t a stand…” I stopped, waiting to see if Herdol knew what I was going to say next. By his inquisitive look I think he didn’t. “But there’s a restaurant that can do that. It’s expensive, though.”
Herdol turned 180 in his chair, scooted close to the desk, and flipped around with a giant wad of cash.
“What if I told you I’ve been bribing my oldest sister?”
“With what?” I talk-shouted, becoming wary of his other sister’s presence downstairs.
“Well,” he smirked, resting his chin on top of the large yek wad. “I found out she was kicked out of the college. She’s been out for five months.”
“Where is she even getting her money from, then?”
He shrugged, fanning himself with the giant stack.
“Nobody knows. But I-we have it now. I think 200 yeks will be enough for her.”
I fell off of the exercise ball, sliding off of the front and my butt pounding on the ground ingloriously.
“For 200 yeks we should get her a cake, too!”
“But fuck, wait,” he rested his elbows on his knees and threw his face in his hands, aggravated in a single instant.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, seeing him move his hands to rub his temples.
“Well…what flavor of cake would she want?” he asked, a shit-faced grin appearing on his face.
After a moment of recognition I jumped up and started pounding him with the exercise ball, ignoring his sorry’s and stop!’s as the static frizzed up his hair and his sister quietly ignored up from the other room.