Chapter 2
We all live with regrets—regret for not saying something, for not being genuine, for not working hard enough. In life, these regrets shape who we become. But I regret regretting. Regretting is part of human nature, but I've wasted so much time on it that I question its worth. Time is far more valuable and should be spent doing things you enjoy...
"You're here. Zamin already informed us about you; we can postpone your training," Zakira said, pointing toward Owais.
"My doctor said I can continue training. I just have to be careful," I replied.
"Fine, this will be your sensei then. Since you are already familiar with Owais, your coach will be Sensei Omar. Good luck and take it easy."
"I will," I replied, waiting for this so-called coach to arrive.
"Don't hold him back," Owais said, following her.
What was that supposed to mean? I wondered if it was a warning or an encouragement.
Speaking of Omar, I've only ever known one Omar in this lifetime. My high school sweetheart, at least on my end. The rejection only sank in after the fourth time. I left the training space and waited in the fitness room for this mysterious Omar. If it were the boy I used to like so much in the past, I wouldn't know how to avoid being awkward or acting like I was still hurt about it. Imagine being rejected from eighth grade right up until twelfth. It was one of the worst experiences I've had to deal with.
"Let's start. Ten frog jumps and fifteen laps," he said with a straight face.
Not even a hello or a suggestion to get sushi after this. He went straight into it, no nonsense. I followed the instruction, but I was dead by the third lap and could hardly do a proper frog jump. After panting my lungs out, I began to question if my fitness was the reason my knees felt so heavy. It worsened, and I only had one water break after an hour. My core, legs, and back were where it hurt the most. Only when he saw that he was about to kill me did the torture end. He began his training while I rested.
This certainly wasn't the high school Omar. This was some iced Viking dressed in an angelic demeanor. Heartless, silent, and cold. But it isn't good to judge a book by its cover. It's good to keep things professional, so even if we hardly spoke, I took it lightly. Later that day, I went out with Zamin, who was going to announce another disappearance blueprint. It was normal by now; no one expected him to stay for long.
"You must be hungry. Should I order more food?" he asked, holding out the menu.
"I'm fine. What is it that you wanted to tell me?"
"I got selected for the national team!" he said with a huge smile. "Lunch is on me today."
Pinch me, Lord...
I squealed like a little squirrel, forgetting that I was in public. After realizing how embarrassing I might have been, I took my seat, covering my face with the menu.
"I'm so happy for you, finally!" I whispered, feeding him some of my food.
"There's bad news too," he said awkwardly as he tried to swallow his food.
"What is it?" I asked, looking into his eyes.
"I'm leaving for a few years. Three, to be exact."
"Oh... three is quite the amount..."
I was a little upset by the arrangement and conditions, but there wasn't much that could be done. Being a man with one human leg and the other artificial, and still working hard with a physically damaged structure to achieve your dreams, is something not many can do. That's why he was destined for glory.
"It's just three years," I said, punching his shoulder. "Make us proud."
After dropping him off at Owais's place, I went over to the nearby lake. It wasn't much of a lake with all the global warming making rain as scarce as it can be. The beauty of the sky, though, was always something else. It was way more beautiful when I was younger. I called it my "thinking place." It was where I went to empty my thoughts. I never shared the place with anyone before, but strangely on that night, I noticed my new sensei nearby. The day after, he was there, in the exact place, on time.
His mystery really got to me. I had never struggled to approach anyone before, but he was just something else. Now I know why curiosity almost killed the cat...
It takes approximately twenty-one days to get used to something, even if we are reluctant to change. I do miss Zamin, but I knew he was happy regardless of the separation. Time is all I need to adapt to not having him around again. Poor Saleema, she won't be too happy about it either. Owais occasionally bought me lunch but was too busy training for nationals to give me any time, so I spent most of my time investigating this sensei of mine. Stalking his social media, checking his status, and what he was always up to. Nothing made sense. He was openly private, if that even makes sense. There goes the saying that you can find everything online these days. The only solution left was to talk to him, which was prohibited unless it was necessary.
"I hope you've gotten used to me now," he said, handing me my leg guards. "Leg work."
"Leg work?"
"Show me what type of kicks you had in taekwondo. I'll explain them in the kickboxing sense."
After warming up, I proceeded to the ring, effortlessly showcasing my leg work. Today's class was the longest and most silent. It got to me. Class ended yet again with a cold shrug and a "see you tomorrow."
This wasn't as fun as I anticipated.
Omar took me to the lake that night after listening to me whine about my new instructor. He was a good listener, even if I spoke rubbish most of the time.
"Do you know why I enjoy coming here all the time with a tub of strawberry ice cream?" I asked, turning towards him.
"Why?" he replied, placing his cell down.
"When I was younger, I used to train with my father, his close friend, and his son near the water. I hated the sport so much at the time, but that young boy always brought me strawberry ice cream, so I looked forward to coming to class."
"Wait, Sensei's rival's son?"
"Yes, Owais. You have selective hearing. That is beside the point."
"You mean Omar... your new instructor is this boy you always tell me about!" he said, standing.
"Omar? I don't think that's what his name was at the time."
"He converted. I'll do class with you from now on."
"You know your girlfriend won't allow that. Besides, I think you're mistaken."
"For the last time, I don't like Zakira. And I'm sure it's him. Ask him if you think I'm lying, and this ice cream is mine now."
"You can have it," I rolled my eyes at him, watching him leave.
He arrived again that afternoon, this time with a few breadcrumbs to feed the ducks.
"Are you going to keep on pretending that you don't see me here every day as well?"
"Boys and girls shouldn't freely interact with each other, especially if they are alone."
"Are you Sensei Jacqa's son?"
"Yes, I am."
"So, why pretend like you don't know me?"
"I did nothing of that sort. Besides, our fathers aren't on good terms anymore."
"This isn't about them. Can you give me a direct answer for once?"
"And can you stop being so nosy?" he said, turning his head toward me.
"No! I won't. For someone who's brought meaning to something I hated at one stage, to someone who makes me feel like there's something wrong with me."
"You're just making up things now. I never said any of that. I'm leaving now. You feed the ducks," he said before pushing the packet of breadcrumbs into my arms and storming off.
"I do not want to feed your ducks!" I yelled, turning to the ducks.
Looks like I'll have to use public transport now. I don't even know what you'd call that. I'm not sure if it was a fight or a "listen to me ignore you out loud." I can't believe I thought this was better than having to deal with a high school crush. At this point, that would have been easier to resolve.