Two Kings

Every morning, usually before breakfast and sunrise and sometimes while sunrise, I would go for thirty minutes jog around my neighbourhood for the upcoming new season. And here I was at five in the morning, drenched in sweat, running like 50 mph instead of jogging, as if there was no tomorrow to live. But, frankly, I was just so excited for this year’s basketball season to start. The games had been one of the first important things for me since I turned freshman in high school. Now, in eleventh grade, it was still an important thing to put up first. How could it not be? My very gorgeous girlfriend, Julie, and two best friends, named Nik and Leslie, plainly knew about this. Yet my point here was they always understood if sometimes I had stood up on our particular and planned hang-out moments. Well, it was not like they weren’t busy students – they were, Leslie, for the most part. It was just, they were balancing their life goals and teenage times. While me, I was so focused on winning every game and every tournament so I could join and win the highest tournaments in high school: the State Tournaments. It was what I have always wanted. Although Nik played basketball too, he was not really hoping for playing in State Tournaments. I knew this was not the career he wanted to pursue. He wasn’t really committed to basketball, but at least I had a friend who had the same interest as me, only he did not use to having morning jogs every morning. Nik, he was always not into this kind of routine, but still good at every game. The soon I got home after a jog, or I would not call it “jog” this morning ‘cause all I did was ran fast as I could, I washed myself, took my breakfast, and headed to the only place I mostly love to be all day: the Kingstown High School. Not that I love this freaking school for the reason of study – screw classes, ‘xcept for P.E. – but because this was where I get to practice with my team, and, if you had not heard or known of the name Flynn Hughes, be ready enough for I, myself, would be warmed to introduce you myself. I was quite the star, maybe more than a star, in this school, and – thanks to my handsomeness and talent in basketball – I got many admirers. But I was quite a boogeyman for some. I always had a hard time understanding the heads of those “some”, actually. I mean, why would they hate a good-looking Flynn after he just, I don’t know, intentionally threw a ball to someone else’s back? Or pushed someone so hard on their locker that it caused banging, echoing sounds across the hallway? Or after messing up the eight grader’s lunch? Hold on, I just talked about myself in the third person, didn’t I? I loved it, anyway. As I got closer to the entrance doors of the school, I sensed this awesome feeling that this beginning day of the basketball season would turn out different than any of those days in my previous years. I was walking head up high, with boastfulness, like I owned the whole school on my own. With my popularity, I kept this school running and active, active because I was still here and everyone here was going crazy for me. Wasn’t crazy people or hearts active all the time? I could not imagine the frowning faces every student would have after I graduate here. They must have felt devastated to see their crush, whom they always fantasized about whether day or night, abed or off the bed, and who would never be theirs to have, leave the state for college. Kingstown High School surely would fall without the name Flynn Hughes. The very one loved and desired. Okay, I over-boasted myself there. So, turning back to narrating this fascinating story of mine about that particular morning day of my utmost excitement for the new season to start, I would like to start by the time I arrived at the school’s entrance doors and kissed my girlfriend, Julie, the only gorgeous cheerleader captain and perfect-at-bed partner in this whole school and greeted her two best friends, named Olivia and Zoe, whose faces were unimaginably deprived of beauty – I used to think Aphrodite was not generous enough to give these two blessings of physical appearances, or maybe that was just how I thought of other women, excluding my beloved Julie. Along with them were Nik and about five jocks. They were all waiting for me here every morning because any day wouldn’t start with fun without me. Of course, we stayed there for more minutes to do more talking. I told them about how excited I was this very early morning about this new basketball season and even fearlessly assured them that The Kings would bring home the District Championship Trophy then my team and I would get to play and win State Tournaments. Julie shared to us that she was finally planning to rearrange and add more appealing moves to The Queen’s cheer dancing, which was her best decision so far because she never did listen to anyone when almost everyone, on her team or not, requested to “move with something new”. We had the perfect moment beginning our day with excitement – we were all smiling and laughing – until one strange but normal car’s noise caught my friends’ and my attention. Matter of fact, it took everyone’s attention who was outside the school. The car made long and screeching sounds as whoever the driver was attempted to make a perfect full drift before parking his car. Speaking honestly, I was a bit impressed by that. But this wasn’t really about my tiny impression, so I better not talk about it. It was about the grey car. “Hmm, an egotist four-wheels player,” I murmured under my own breath. No one heard it so clearly, yet I know Nik turned his head to me for a second. All were looking at the car. Judging by how everyone looked at the car, what was confusing was that none of us had ever seen that car. Well, I mean, I assumed all of us here had already seen an unsuspicious Honda Civic before at any-hell-where, but the one we were all looking at the point was different in some ways. It was as if this car was driven by a maniac! Drifting within the school zone where students could be at risk of getting hit? Really? It never happened to Kingstown High School until that morning. And I wondered that same morning, how could a Honda Civic perform drift? The last time I checked, they were front-wheel drives. And FWD vehicles, as far as I knew during those times, were impossible to make that perfect drift. I guess it must have gone conversion to a rear-wheel drive. Who knew what people were up to, right? Plus, I always did not understand cars well enough. We all waited – and I would like to mention myself, especially – for the driver to step out of the unfamiliar-to-us-all car. Whoever was in control of that car’s steering wheel had, as said once not too far before, caught all of our attention well enough. So we wanted to show our little admiration for the massive effort he or she spent to make this unexpected, perfectly-played entrance performance. I wanted to be sarcastic on what I wrote at the end part, but he did really make a perfect drift. I could not still believe it was stuck in my head. It wasn’t visible on my facial appearance, but I sensed jealousy in me. “Pfft,” I whispered one more as the thought of anyone could drift got inside my head. Not any later had passed, the two rear doors of the car opened, and two girls emerged; the one clothed like she was in the city seemed around at our ages, and the one with nerdy glasses was around the age of middle schoolers. I saw the city-clothed girl opened her mouth while she had a face of annoyance before she abandoned what I supposed to be her younger sister in the almost circling crowd. Nik, Julie, the jocks and I were a bit far from there, so I apologize if I couldn’t write the hell that girl just said. I did not have those big ears. And we were not interested in going to the crowd. We watched this girl walk closer to where we were while the crowd moved aside for her to have a nice and clear way. It must have been the most awkward walk she ever had. But these two girls, whom we never have seen before, were not the star of this early morning’s unpredicted gathering. The driver was, so I understood those immovable feet and eyes from the rest of Kingstown Highschoolers. Then not two minutes after the rear doors opened, the driver came out at last. And, as I expected, he was a male, but what I did not expect, or least expected, was that he would be a new student here too. It was so evident because he was young like me, and what gave him away was when he swung his backpack to his right shoulder, which means he was here to study, after slamming his car’s door, which I doubted he owned it and tossed his keys on the air then caught it at the right time. Unlike the girl who passed us that looked upset, he was holding his head high, untroubled by the students around who were staring at him. Yet I was troubled by seeing him solely. He might not show us more of his actions this morning, but somehow I saw myself in him. That confidence I saw and the way he stood on his ground, that looks he got naturally written on his face and that physique he surely worked hard on every day – those were all mine. Or rather, I, too, had all those. I was not so surprised by what he did afterwards. Well, while in the centre of everyone’s attention, he took the chance and cockingly expressed his opinion towards this school, to which no one asked him to say. Also, that was the moment we knew of his name. And how I knew of the way he spoke to anyone. He was very similar to me, but I never did use the word “Kingstownians” to anyone here. “Oh-ho-ho-ho! Greetings, Kingstownians! Imma get this quick. Uh, seeing your dumbstricken faces around me, I am thinking this poor and lifeless school’s for me to rule! Oh, yep, the name’s Casey, by the way, don’t forget! So, why don’t we start – ” “Mr Edwards,” one surely I knew was a voice of a teacher somewhere from the crowd called the i***t. How did I know that Mr Edwards and the name Casey were one person? Because Casey, like how he used the word to describe our faces in an insulting manner, was DUMBstruck to hear the name and immediately followed his caller by turning his head to his back. Why did I call him an i***t? Because he was acting like one, at least to my perception. But it did not mean I was an i***t, too, simply because I acted the same way whenever in front of the crowd. It’s that – I actually acted better than him. To be fact, I did not need to act it. I was always like it, naturally. The same voice continued, coming to the i***t’s front, “I hate to assume that you didn’t know the same rules you have in your old school apply here too?” That was Mrs Myers talking there, or should I rather say starting to serve her reiterating sermons. A welcoming speech for that new guy Casey, if you asked me, by the way. He deserved it for his idiocy. And whenever she spoke, there were damn microphones hiding all over her old, boring dresses. It was like she was a walking microphone and a 10,000 watts speaker at the same time. Every student knew her that well, so it was not confounding to hear her voice where I, with my friends, were standing – unlike the first girl earlier who talked that I supposed his sister. “No car tricks within the school zone, most importantly with students scattering around the perimeter! And what gave you a reasonable miracle to drive a car on your own without parents or guardians?” I thought that was going to destroy his confidence. I even smirked silently and unpleasingly at him because I got to admit that Mrs Myers had a point, and I was excited to see his embarrassed face. But I was wrong. He took out a piece of white paper that was almost crumpled into a ball, ready to be shoot in the trash can, handed the paper over to Mrs Myers and, with the same volume he had a little while ago, Casey laughed almost hysterically and remarked, “I, ma’am, also hated to assume that you are what this school called the principal. Tssp, if you are, got a note for you.” There was a short displeasing moment that happened between them, and it was when Casey moved his eyes from Mrs Myer’s head to her toes. Then he began bending himself forward to Mrs Myers as if he was talking to a student. His voice started to weaken, “If not, please be kind and give this paper to your principal for me. I am a new student in this town, so, basically, I don’t know everyone here.” He gave Mrs Myers a disturbing smile like he was trying to irritate her because he got interrupted by her in the middle of his first speech in front of Kingstown High School. I would probably do the same thing too. He held his little sister’s wrist, who was standing and looking up at him this whole time. It was either she was admiring her idiotic brother’s morning yawning speech, or she was scared to go through the crowd alone, mentioning she was a new student here and was a nerdy-looking type. Before they followed their sister’s footsteps, Casey turned back to Mrs Myers, who was visibly stunned by the rude attitude the new guy displayed in front of her, and gestured his head to point at her little sister, “This is my beautiful sister, Iya, if you’re not aware.” I did not know if he was being sarcastic about his sister, he better be, ‘cause I saw no beauty with those glasses having thick frames! To speak with the right words, it looked hideous! I was doubting, as they walked closer to the entrance doors – giving me a clearer look at him and at his sister – if it was indeed his sister. They did not look exactly the same, or at the very least, starting from the shape of their eyes. When he was a few steps away from me, I fixed my posture, brought my chest forward and followed him with my eyes. My body gesture was to inform him that I run this school. For my sake, I already hate the way his image grew bigger and clearer in my eyes! Ultimately, our eyes met, and just as I expected again, Casey halted in my front with his own pompous posture. No one knew that period how much loath rose up in me by merely seeing this new guy standing right in front of my face. I could start a fight. I had the feeling this would not end well. I could feel Julie and some of the jocks at my back looking the same way I did to Casey. Like me, I knew Nik did not like this guy too. Then, Casey smirked at me like he did to Mrs Myers and scanned me with his eyes in a similar manner when he looked at Mrs Myers from her head to toe. It was so infuriating to watch his entire face while doing that. I felt my heart beat going faster each second, not because I was nervous at him or anything like that, but because I was filled with hatred and anger. And what provoked me was when he talked after smiling at me differently – the thing I had wished he never did. But, of course, he would. That was what a cocky was. “Do you want me to zip it up for you?” “What?” My face crumpled in confusion, yet my arrogant tone was still here. What was need to be zipped? I questioned myself. He came closer to me, disrespecting and invading my personal space, which I hated anyone doing that to me the most, put his lips on my ear and said, “Your zipper’s undone, sexy pants.” As if he whispered nothing to me, after he took a couple of steps back and before he went on inside the school with her little sister – which until now I doubted her sister while seeing the difference between their eye colours – he pointed out his two hands at me, imitated like guns, and winked with a nice smile this time. By the time our eyes disconnected, I instantly checked my pants. It actually was undone. How come I did not notice it? But, whether he was only being nice to me or not, it did not change the way I saw him that morning. I was pissed that he killed my excitement for the new basketball season. And the thought that he and I would never make a good pair of friends had never ceased inside my head. And there was none in a million chance that that absolute mental Casey would want me as his friend. The way he talked to me, he had the same feeling as I did for him: Detestation. We would never get along together, even if he was my living reflection in this school. There was one thing I hoped would make a difference between him and me. Lots of interest in Basketball.