- "In the interstices of language lie powerful secrets of the culture" -
~ Adrienne Rich
'Football Tournament... support our boys!' read the poster. Liam ran his eyes over the poster, twice perhaps, before stuffing his hands into his pockets. His brain was swollen with ambivalent thoughts almost immediately.
"Ian... the captain of the boys' football team, eh?" he muttered to himself.
If he was to be quite honest, captain was the least title he would ever think of associating with Ian, a classmate of his who sat diagonal to him. He was redolent of narcissism and beheld such a laid-back, carefree and lackadaisical nature. Just then, Liam's thoughts drifted away by the sudden interruption of the malignant clicking of heels against the marbled glossy tiles which echoed throughout the somewhat-busy hall. He looked towards the direction of the sound.
"Mr. Sanchez. Liam Sanchez to be exact. ¿Cómo estás?" came a voice loaded with self pride, arrogance and deceit.
Liam feigned a small smile of acknowledgement. The way "¿Cómo estás?" was said, made it seem almost as if he himself and all people of his ethnicity were being mocked and made fun of.
Ms. Olive stopped in her tracks when she was within his reach and cupped her hips. The bouncy curls of her cheap rose gold wig cascaded down her shoulders and ended at her back, a quarter of the way. Her face looked orange after she had perhaps packed and plastered loads of foundation of the wrong skin tone unto her face. She adjusted the thick square glasses resting on her nose bridge and made a fixed portrait smile, showing off her lanes of white teeth.
"Ms. Olive, good day," he grimaced and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Her eyes ran up and down his figure portraying a similar dose of contempt before saying, "Good day to you too, boy. How have the sessions been going?"
Liam bit down on his bottom lip. Of course, he thought to himself. From his one-week knowledge of her, probing seemed to be one of her idiosyncrasies.
"I guess they've been fine, Ms. Olive," he decided to say imperturbably, "Thank you for asking."
Ms. Olive furrowed her eyebrows quizzically, "Fine you say?"
She paused briefly and soon somewhat of a smirk played off on her lips. That was not a great sign, Liam thought to himself.
"Very well then. I suppose I can only determine that through a test, yes?"
A cold chill ran down his spine and he suddenly felt dizzy.
"Uhh..." he struggled to say, "I suppose so-?"
He watched as her lips gathered into a diabolical smile and he could have sworn he also heard her chuckle. It was almost as if at that moment, she appreciated their height difference greatly; it helped to add an intimidating effect.
"You are quite the character, Liam."
His lips twitched into a small smile before he averted his attention over to the poster once more. A minute of silence prevailed and it seemed as if they were both growing weary of each other's presence.
"Now you listen to me well, Liam," Ms. Olive suddenly leaned in, drawing close to his ear. "If you don't get anything less than total on that test..." her voice trailed off and her lips curled up into a smile once more, "As a matter of fact, I'll leave you to think about that."
She chuckled like a witch and his gaze lingered on her retreating figure as she disappeared around a corner.
"Anything less than total..." her voice echoed in his mind.
Such words sounded very familiar to him and brought a certain someone to mind.
'Leave 1st place to me at all times...'
"Dammit," he muttered beneath his breath.
If there was one thing he knew, it was that if such news had entered Emma's hearing, she was probably bound to rage up a storm in those heavy gray eyes of hers and reprimand him of the deal they made, considering the way she reacted during their first session. As if he forgot, right? Come to think about it, Emma was not at school that day which was a good thing, considering his case at that moment. In fact, Emma had been absent for quite a while which Liam found quite strange, especially due to the fact that she seemed to be fully intact and functioning quite fine just the four odd days ago when he last saw her.
As he had learned from a few of his classmates, it was of her nature to be absent now and then due to her sustained participation in Math competitions and school-related matters. Her world revolved around Mathematics after all and she was a part of the student council, his class's representative to be exact. According to Francesca however, her absence from school was unexplainable sometimes. That was what triggered his curiosity and lead him to the dilemma of whether to be concerned or to remain indifferent. One part of him was fearful of becoming too attached and intertwined with the business of the people around him, especially with the knowledge that he was always running for his life, and another part of him was indeed curious. He groaned in exasperation. Perhaps it was best to keep an empty mind for now, he thought; thinking was pouring more and more stress into his body systems.
Trudging his way out of the school and onto the school compound carpeted with students, he muttered a few hi's and hey's here and there and small chit chat escalated where possible of course, that lasted no longer than a minute. Before he knew it, he was standing at the gates of the school and a sudden cheerful feeling sparked in the depths of his chest cavity. Just like the days had been flowing by as of recent, yet again, he was legible to go home early. Emma's absence granted him such a great advantage and thus he was for the most happy. Then it struck him like lightning, the thought that that won him the chance of being able to attend the football tournament! In that said moment, two actions were required to have him seated among the other students who were going to spectate and support the footballers: turning around and marching his way back to the field. It didn't hurt to have a little fun now and then, did it? As long as he was home before 9pm for the most, it would have been just fine. Just fine... or was that just what he had imagined?
"Sanchez! Just what do you think you are doing?" a voice clothed in disdain barked out of the blue, snapping him out of his thoughts.
The voice was awfully too familiarly apathetic, stirring a feeling of tension in the pit of his stomach. He spun around in its direction, just hopeful that he had the wrong thought in his mind and just when the thundery gray eyes entered his line of vision, his shoulders slumped, his countenance became twisted and he couldn't imagine that indeed he was quite an unlucky fellow.
"Emma Waltz," he muttered, "it has been confirmed on this said day, right here- right now... that you are secretly a witch."
Emma was wearing a large oversized hoodie which drowned her slender figure and left her face coated with long shadows. Only her lips peered from the darkness and attested to the fact that even in the darkness, she wore a stoic expression. A tired and weary chestnut brown briefcase hung limply from her fists and the two continued to stare at each other. What a surprise it was that Rooney was not beside her at that moment.
"A pleasant surprise to see me? I like that it is."
"What sort of sorcery do you do, Emma Waltz? Weren't you absent?"
"I am never absent from school," she snorted.
Never absent? Liam began to ponder heavily. Was her head missing a screw?
"Uh huh... I'm not sure what sort of drugs you've been on but clearly you have been ab-"
"What was your score for the Geography test?"
Liam's eyebrows arched up in shock and his grip tightened about his bag straps. Impossible... The Geography pop quiz had been conducted precisely two days ago and Emma was clearly absent that day also. How did she come to know about it? Perhaps she had connections with the Geography teacher? Just then, the thought that Rooney must have kept her up-to-date with her missed school work came to mind and he brushed away the former thoughts.
"Why does it matter anyway?"
"Answer me, Liam Sanchez. Today, especially, my patience is thin."
"It's not your business though..."
"Liam Sanchez, it is quite audacious of you to test your limits."
Liam swallowed hard and his eyes fluttered up and down her figure. What a bad-tempered girl she was.
"My score was low regardless. Does it matter that much?"
Her lips twitched into a smile that lasted for a second before she muttered, "So you have been complying. Good to know. However, I believe that I cannot take your word for it. I need proof."
"You'll have to take my word for it, Ms. Waltz."
He wanted to have some dignity for the most. Certainly, he did not want to have a girl run all over him.
Emma snorted and licked her lips in annoyance.
In the most notorious voice, she muttered under her breath, "Touché, Sanchez. Touché."