Geo texted me and asked me to meet him at World Park, the heart of the campus. Found at the center, it was one of the two areas where Berkeley boys and Reagan girls got together. The other area was the Sports Complex.
The World Park was where patches of lands were dedicated to selected countries to showcase an assortment of flowery bushes. My favourite place in it was the huge butterfly dome, where I usually stayed to read books when alone. Jazz's favourite place was the Friendship Bridge over the lagoon, which connected the Reagan and Berkeley grounds. Figuratively.
Where Geo said we were meeting was where I usually saw him alone, reading or working on something on his laptop. It was a perfect place, actually, given that a sea of Bermuda grass with rows of century-old Acacia trees, stone benches for studying and some swings, sat overlooking the manmade lagoon.
Geo was leaning against an acacia tree when I saw him. He was wearing his reading glasses, a sight a lot of Reagan girls died for, and was examining a few documents.
"Hey. You ready?" he asked as soon as he noticed me.
I had my camera slung over my shoulder, and I raised it as an answer. Well, even when I wasn't ready, I had to force myself to be. On my other shoulder, I had a camera bag with yet another kit.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He rolled the papers he was holding and put it inside his backpack.
I shrugged my shoulders. I guessed it would depend on who I was talking to.
He asked where I intended to start with the project. While it was still a concept for me, I asked him to just go around like it was a normal day for a Student Council Secretary, and I tagged along.
"I want to catch them off-guard. They're used to you roaming around so I'm sure they won't notice the camera," I added.
"They will if you're the one holding it."
"They won't. I'm sure." I wasn't the head-turner type of girl. I'd been running around the campus the whole year and most of those who had noticed me weren't exactly the look-at-me type. Well, on my league, to say the least.
"We can start with the swimming team," he said.
The BRIS compound had three gymnasiums and three covered pools – the Stanley Halls for Berkeley, the Shelby Halls for Reagan, and the Greek Halls at the Sports Complex for competitions. We were heading to the Greek Hall pool, now at his normal pace, like he was keeping to the schedule. I had to half-run every time I was too far behind.
The Sports Complex's covered pool had a Greek theme to it because the Greeks donated it to the school a few decades back. Though I'd known the story for a whole school year now, this was the first time I'd actually gone inside.
I was most impressed by the structure itself – a sort of temple to the gods; a mini Parthenon. I loved how the viewing balconies had vines hanging from them, like the building was old and the officials who'd be watching from there were wise people. The bleachers were all stones, matching the pillars strategically and aesthetically placed around the hall.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Geo whispered to me as we sat on one end of the bleachers.
It was breath-taking inside.
He chuckled. "You should take a picture of yourself, you know. Gawking at the sight and all. Gawking at the swimmers."
"Excuse me?" I exclaimed and he laughed. What made him think I was looking at – oh! They were indeed a gawk-inviting sight, and for a brief moment, I was ashamed of myself for looking.
I must have turned pink because Geo chuckled and pinched my cheek. "I was kidding," he said, and then he turned to his team. "Hey, guys!"
The Berkeley swimmers spun to us in unison. It was as if Geo was the captain of the team and each member moved to his bidding. Three of them approached the bleachers, while the other four just swam to the edge of the 25-meter pool and propped their arms to see what was up.
"This is Zoey," Geo said, and then announced each of his teammate's names.
"Oh, Zach's twin," Hans commented. He was standing nearest to where I was seated and he had his eyes set on me and Geo, alternately. There was that certain look in his eyes, which told me he was teasing, but I shook that off my head.
"Hi," I said, as if there was a lump in my throat. I swallowed hard.
"She's going to take pictures. So don't mind her," Geo announced.
Of course, right after he said that, the swimmers went back to their laps. Greg and Hans stayed behind for a chat. A little awkward, I slowly scooted closer to Geo when Greg sat beside me. I could feel my hair slowly rising from my skin, and that wasn't even an overreaction. I sometimes feared people and jocks. I sometimes didn't. This was one of those times I was a little scared of them.
"So you're covering the competition?" Greg asked.
"Uhm…no, but I'll be around," I replied.
"Cool." Greg raised his hand for a high five. I stared at it at first, and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for my move. It wasn't exactly my thing, so when I returned his gesture, I missed his hand and he laughed. "Yeah, we'll have to work on that."
"You'll be our muse," Hans interrupted, his voice too nonchalant for whatever joke came out of his mouth. I wouldn't believe a word he had just said. If at all, I'd take it he was being sarcastic.
But I chuckled quietly, nonetheless. "I don't think I qualify. If at all, you are my muses."
"Finally! Someone who has the brains to recognize our potentials." Hans waved his hands in the air, and it was only then I pushed the possibilities of them, mocking me, aside. "Geo always gets the girls."
I nodded. "Count me out."
"Really?" Geo teased, his voice disbelieving, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He burst into laughter, like he couldn't believe what I had just said to him, but I remained unmoved. For a moment, I thought I'd give in and laugh. Looking at him while he had fun – not of me, I supposed, since I didn't get that impression (and trust me, I knew what that was like) – had indeed given me ease.
"You're having dinner with us tonight then." Greg looked at his watch. "In four hours."
I stared at him at first, debating about it with myself. Since I began studying here at BRIS, I hadn't had any meal with students other than my brother and Jazz.
This was gonna be a new thing for me. And I didn't do well with new things, so I didn't answer.
"All right. We best be going," Geo said, saving me the trouble of lying just to get away with it. He stood up and gave his teammates a high five. When we were out of earshot, he looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "Something wrong?"
I wondered how he knew right away that something did bother me, other than the fact that I was meeting his swimming team for the first time. It usually took a whole lot of time to get used to me, more so to understand how I reacted to things. I was, after all, a walking contradiction.
But I guessed it was obvious that I didn't like how Geo announced to the team that I'd be taking pictures. They'd be orienting themselves to how they'd want to be captured, how they'd want the world to see them. That was never my idea of capturing human emotions. Everything had to be real.
It was the very reason I was never fond of model shoots. Models, they model. They act. They move based on a choreography they've already mastered. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I would actually salute models for what they could do – provide the world a glimpse of humanity, on-call. It just wasn't my cup of tea.
So at the very first model shoot I was tasked to attend, I captured the model while he was internalizing his role and rendered the photo in black and white. It was the highlight of my first semester here at BRIS. And that was Mattheus.