I opened my eyes and turned my head to look outside my bedroom window. It was still dark outside. My alarm clock said it was 5:15 in the morning so I momentarily closed my eyes. At 5:30 the snooze alarm went off and I had to get up, brush my teeth, take a shower, and get dressed for school. I packed my blueish gray satchel with the books I needed for today's classes. Then I went down stairs to sit at the kitchen counter and my father had his briefcase ready for work. He was getting ready to leave the house and he said good morning to me and see you later. Then I stood up and went to the cupboard to get some cereal. My mother would come down at this point and give me the standard reminders of the day. I also had Tennis practice after school on this particular day, so she would remind me to get my tennis stuff to bring them along today. I got done eating my cereal and went back up to my room to put makeup on. It was 6:30 when I was ready to leave the house.
I caught a bus at 6:40 which took me into Vienna. At 7 I needed to walk a bit to another bus stop to catch the bus that took me to school. My friends Elisa and Amelie were waiting at this stop.
"Good morning Elisa and Amelie."
"Good morning Leonie."
"Leonie, did you hear about the new foreign transfer student from Belgium that our teacher from our French class had announced last Friday?" Amelie said. She was shorter than me and had longer hair than me. She was a brunette. She also often spoke so fast that it can be hard to understand what she is saying.
"Oh yeah. I heard about that. Why are you so interested though, Amelie?" I said.
"Come on Leonie, of course she would be interested. We hardly ever get foreign exchange students."
"Yeah, maybe it will be a tall guy, and if he's blond and has blue eyes then he'd be my type." Said Amelie.
"You don't have a thing for Lucas?" I asked her.
"Please, he's going to do an apprenticeship in metal working after this school year. I don't find metal workers attractive. Plus, I have another year after this one and then I have to study for the Matura to have a shot at higher education. I don't see how anything would last if I went out with Lucas."
"Fair enough." Said Elisa. "You don't want anything to do with romance, trust me, that stuff is gross."
High schools in Austria had you prepare for trade school or get you prepared to take the Matura which was a test to qualify students from getting high education. Usually students of the ages 17 to 20 took this test. Some were 16 year-olds but they would have to be quite smart in their 9 years of compulsory education. All three of us girls were dead set on getting into higher education. I even took some International Baccalaureate courses in case I wanted to study abroad.
"Yeah, Amelie, it's probably best to focus on school rather than boys."
I said that to reiterate Elisa's point but I was curious about boys like Amelie too. I was just more timid to admit that.
The bus came to pick us up at 7:05. The second bus was usually a 40 minute bus ride. We would get to the second district at around 7:45 and we would grab coffee and a croissant or something like that and walk to school.
Our first class was French class and it started at 8:00. Our French teacher always let us bring in food so sometimes we brought more snacks from the bakery where we got coffee every school morning. Public education in Austria was free and so some teachers were very lenient and relaxed. It had its pros and cons.
The bell had rung which marked the beginning of French class.
"Mesdames et messieurs! I have an announcement to make everyone." He said with a strong German accent. Public schools occasionally hired French teachers but at our school Mr. Bauer was an Austrian who lived in France for several years. He spoke most of the time in French because it was a B1 level course. "Please welcome Maarten." He said in French.
I guess Maarten was the name of the foreign exchange student. He walked right into class. As he walked to the front of the class where Mr. Bauer was, I noticed his hair was snow white and the front was gelled with spikes. He was also taller than the average guy just like Amelie had predicted. His blue eyes reminded me of the color of the sea, specifically of a trip I took to the North Sea with my family a couple years ago. Shoot! I hate it when Amelie's predictions come true. I had to agree with her that Maarten was handsome.
Maarten had a real confident presence. He seemed to be the type to hangout with everyone and was liked by everyone.
Oops. I was gazing at him and he noticed me just like that. He looked back at me, into my eyes intently. He walked up to me and said: "You look nice."
He just kept looking for a second or two.
"Ahem. Maarten, introduce yourself in French."
"Right. Well, I am Maarten Peeters from Liege in Belgium."
Maarten started introducing himself. He spoke French well. I don't know why he was put in our class. It made sense because as he was introducing himself he said he was from Liege, the French speaking province in Belgium. He spoke Dutch, French, English, and his German was also pretty good. He spoke some Romanian and even a little Hungarian. I don't know how he learned so many languages. He said he played Football, Tennis, and Volleyball.
He looked like a good athlete.
"Alright Maarten, you can sit down at your desk." Mr. Bauer said in French
"Monsieur Bauer, it's pronounced like this." Maarten corrected him but Mr. Bauer wasn't annoyed in the slightest.
"Thank you Maarten. Alright everyone. He is going to be assisting me in my class. It is one of the things his exchange program offered. Since his French is already at the highest standard in this school he was given the right to assist me. Though he still is taking higher level French in the IB program" Sometimes Mr. Bauer would repeat what he said in German for us to understand because even though we were B level, we still needed assistance. The public school system wasn't very good at educating students well in French. Maarten was actually doing the full International Baccalaureate Program (IB) and one of his courses was higher level French. So he was still studying French even though he was doing this teaching assistant thing in my French class. In the full IB program there were three standard classes and three high classes required to be taken.
French class was from 8:00-8:50. My next class was from 8:55-9:45. It was higher level math. I was taking some IB classes. Fortunately, Maarten had the same math class as mine.
My snack break was from 9:45-10.
Then I had History class from 10-10:50. Maarten wasn't in that class though. At 10:55 to 11:45 I had standard level art. I only had three IB courses I signed up for. The rest were classes geared to trade school or for the Matura after finishing secondary school.
My lunch time was from 11:45-12:15. I was sitting at lunch with my friends Amelie and Elisa. Maarten came over to our table and sat down.
"Maarten, what classes have you had so far?" Amelie said. She was sitting next to Maarten at the table
"After being in your French class I was in Higher level Mathematics. Then I had a music class for my higher level art class. I still have three more classes after this so my classes end at 14:55."
"You must be pretty smart if you're doing higher level French in the afternoon as well as higher level math." Amelie said. She was subtly moving closer to Maarten. I don't know if she noticed what she was doing.
Maarten kind of jerked and backed off though, so Amelie was probably getting into his space a bit too much. "No. I'm nowhere near smart. I'm just good with memorizing numbers, expressions, and equations. I'm no genius in music either, so I'm not sure why I decided to take the higher level course."
"Sorry about that Maarten," I said. "Amelie has a bit of a space invading habit."
"Yeah, I prefer it if no one invades my personal bubble." He then turned his head to the side to look at Amelie and said, " Also, refrain from any ideas of hitting on me or any kind of flirting. I'm going to say it now in advance, I have no intention of dating right now."
Well. That was forward and honest. I felt a bit bad for Amelie getting shot down like that but Amelie had a tendency to get ahead of herself.
"How did you learn Romanian and Hungarian?" I asked Maarten, to change the subject.
"I spent some of my summers in Romania and Hungary because of my parents' job. I'm not really proficient in those languages. I just know the basics and how to ask for directions."
"Well, that's still impressive. You're fluent in French, Dutch, German, and English already so it's still amazing that you know Romanian and Hungarian." I said.
"It's nothing special. A lot of my old friends speak six or more languages."
"Wow. I have trouble with English and French so that's wild to think about." Said Elisa.
"What do you have after school today?" Maarten asked me.
"I have tennis practice at 3:30."
"Really? That's when I have my Football practice."
My friends and I continued to ask Maarten questions about Belgium.
Maarten said his family had to relocate after an issue with a former classmate. I decided not to pry too much so we left the conversation there.
At 12:20-13:10 I have a standard level IB Geography class. From 13:15 -14:30 I'm in the Orchestra. My friends Amelie and Elisa are not taking IB classes and are solely focused on their "Gymnasium" which is a secondary school program that prepares students for the Matura and getting into universities.
I had my tennis practice from 3:30-5:30 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I would usually spend some time at parks near the Prater Park where the Wiener Riesenrad was. My friends Amelie and Elisa also had tennis practice. Then I would take a bus at around 3 to get to tennis practice on time.
Today at practice during my small breaks I went over to the soccer pitch where Maarten played to watch him practice. The football club was on the other side of the tennis courts. We both played in clubs, there was no school team.
I had short five minute breaks throughout practice, so I could get water and eat some snacks I brought with me to practice.
I noticed Maarten was one of the shortest on his team he was practicing with. I was going to have to ask what age division he was playing for. Maarten said he recently turned 15 and the guys on his team were big so he was probably playing for U17 or U18.
The tennis age divisions were split into three categories. The U14, U16, and U18. I started this year on the U16 team.
Maarten, from the looks of it, was a goalkeeper, but I saw him practice as a defender too. Maarten seemed quite proficient as a goalkeeper.
My tennis practice today involved a lot of footwork and less dribbling or serving and volley practice. There were a lot of the usual floor ladder drills.
I noticed Maarten also came to watch me during practice.
After practice I went to get some Gatorade from the canteen station at the club. Maarten was there to get a drink too.
"You have some good footwork. A nice foundation for tennis. How did your season go last year?" Said Maarten
"Last year, I placed second in the final tournament of the season."
"That is quite impressive. Well, I had a good feeling you were pretty good. You had excellent coordination in practice today." He said.
"You're not just saying that are you? I am a bit out of practice because I didn't have much time to work on tennis over the summer."
"No. Everything I say is honest. I have no reason to lie.
Well, Maarten was honest at lunch today, so that makes sense.
"What about you? I haven't noticed a single drop of sweat on you. Are you holding back?" I said.
Maarten paused at my question but then he came closer to my ear to whisper. He said, "I am holding back. I'm playing in the U18 age division and I am still holding back. But, please don't ask why. I am not prepared to answer that question."
Well that was a bit odd. There were still people around so he must have whispered that to not sound arrogant. Though, even if it's true that he holds back in football, it still sounded a bit arrogant anyway. I was actually joking about him holding back but I guess it was true. He had just turned 15 at the end of summer, and was playing U18, and still holding back. I was curious about who Maarten was.
I listened to him so I didn't bother asking but I wanted to find out more about him. His physicality at practice seemed already above the average player on his team. He is definitely hiding something. Wait, don't tell me he's taking steroids. No, he didn't seem like the type to do that. He looked pretty healthy.
"Is the coach having you play as a defender or a goalkeeper this season, or do you not know that yet?" I asked.
"For now he said I would be a back-up goalkeeper and play as a defender most of the time. On Wednesday the coach will be picking a captain for the team. It appears that there are three good leaders on the team and I'm one of them."
"What position did you play back in Belgium?"
"I was a goalkeeper. I played U17 last year but I was among the average height on that team. The only reason my current coach put me in as a back-up coach was because we have taller goalkeepers who can do a decent job."
"Interesting. You said you played tennis and volleyball too. How did you manage that?"
"I don't play volleyball in a club but I have some adult friends I play with for fun and likewise with tennis."
We continued to talk at the bench and lost track of the time. It was almost 18:30 already. Someone called Maarten which is what reminded me of the time.
He must have been called by his mom cause I could barely make out an older woman's voice. Then he replied in a soft voice and I could have sworn I heard him say the name "Martinus". He wasn't speaking in German or French. It sounded too different to be Dutch. Maybe some kind of weird dialect. I wasn't sure.
After the call ended he looked a bit flustered, so I asked, "Who is Martinus?" and then he looked even more flustered.
He spoke very softly in a language I couldn't understand. Paused for me to respond and I just shrugged. Then he seemed a bit relieved but he still seemed a bit unsettled.
"Please don't mention this to anyone but my real name is Martinus Frostus. Please try to keep all your questions to yourself. I have my reasons for having a pseudonym, don't pry any further." He said with a bit of agitation in his voice.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry. That was very rude of me." I said.
"I will accept your apology if you promise to never call me Martinus anywhere or refer to me in any way as Martinus."
He was dead serious from the way he looked and by the posture he was standing in.
"I promise I will not utter that name."
He was serious about this. He probably wasn't even from Belgium but I kept those thoughts to myself.
"Why did you tell me these things? Why didn't you lie?"
"I can't lie. Don't tell anyone that either. Cognitively, I can't lie. I'm a unique case. I'm not annoyed by my condition actually. I honor my word anyway."
I don't want him to become distant with me. So I decided to not pry too much in conversations. Not just with Maarten but with anyone. I had a habit of asking questions I shouldn't. I wanted to change that but that didn't stop my curiosity.
Maarten seemed like a very unique person so it was hard to stop myself from wanting to learn more about him.