Wintercrest Academy

Two Does Not Make A Team

You could stretch your hands towards Kaia and Bren and the tension between them would electrocute you. They’ve been seated at Big K’s like this for fifteen minutes, not saying anything. Just occasional glaring and ignoring each other’s presence. Bren is relaxed in his seat, so his knees keep touching Kaia’s under the table when he moves or readjusts.

           “Can you sit up straight? You’re bumping my knees.”

           “No,” he says, scrolling through his phone.

           Kaia makes a ‘tch’ sound. This tall i***t is really bent on making things difficult for her. But she will not let him. “Don’t you at least want to order something? We’re taking too much time doing nothing.”

           He looks at her slow and smug, arcs his left brow and then says, “No.”

           “Suit yourself.” Kaia gives up and tosses a blue berry into her mouth. Her phone’s ringtone fills the space and she peep at the bright screen. Mr Ariel. They trade guilty glances before she eventually picks up.

           “Mr Ariel,” she says, her voice holding an unnecessary cheeriness.

           “How are my favourite junior scientists doing? Put me on speaker so Bren can hear me too.” She does and places the phone at the middle of the textbook filled table. “How’s studying going?”

           “Great!”

           “Fabulous!” their words clash.

           “I like the sound of that. What are you studying right now?”

           “Applications of Derivatives,” Bren answers immediately, but Kaia’s saying “Glycolysis” and their replies are simultaneous.

           “s**t,” Bren mouths and Kaia glowers at him.

           “You’re studying AP Calculus and AP Biology at the same time?” Mr Ariel sees through their miserable lie and they know it. He takes a deep breath, one that sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to go crazy. “Look, when you two win this competition, the praise would be yours. Articles and newspapers would make your names headliners. It’d go down in history that you two brough this award home. Why are you making me coerce you into doing what would be beneficial for you?” Silence reigns supreme as they both just . . .stare at the phone.

           “We’re sorry. We’d start studying now,” Kaia says and Bren mutters ‘yeah.’

           “I’d call back in 30 minutes. Don’t you dare lie to me.” he hangs up leaving the two still staring at the blank phone.

           “How many direct ATP are made if fructose-1-6-biphosphate is put through glycolysis?”

           Bren sits up sharply, his honey brown eyes piercing through Kaia’s. “We’re starting with AP Calc.”

           “No, we’re not. Answer the question.”

           He sits up straight— thank goodness— and runs his hands through his brown hair. Somehow, the caramel highlights of his hair add some sparkle to his eyes. His jaw is set tight, like it always is, as if to flaunt his high cheekbones and unfairly chiselled jawline. He’s painfully, undeniably attractive, but that doesn’t reduce how equally unbearable he is.

           “Do you have to be difficult?”

           Kaia has to laugh at that. What did he just say? “Difficult? Me? I’m sorry, have you met Brennon Kang?”

           “I like the way you say my name. It’d sound better with a little more respect.”

           “Exactly. This is what I’m talking about.”

           They have their little stare-down for a minute and then Bren slides his notebook across to her. “Solve that. You have 30 seconds.”

           “We’re not—”

           “Solve.” He points down at the book, not breaking eye contact.

           “AP Biology first!”

           “No!”

           Kaia groans and tosses four blueberries into her mouth. Frustrating should be his middle name. Be the bigger person, Kaia. She gives the question a once-over while Bren sets the timer. She turns to an empty page in her notebook and starts scribbling solutions.

           “v(t) = -36r2 + 12r – 12 + cos(t)” she answers and Bren’s jaw literally drops. “How many seconds did it take me?”

           Bren looks sideways, giving Kaia a sweet view of his jawline. “11.”

           “Slow. I’d try to hit below 10 seconds on the next question. Go ahead, ask me.”

           “Brat,” Bren mumbles and if Kaia didn’t read his lips, she wouldn’t have heard it.

           “Woah,” she says with a chuckle. “Did you just call me a brat?”

           “Answer this.” He slides her another question.

           “I just want you to know that the person who coined the word ‘brat’ probably knew you’d be born. You were his inspiration.” She knocks him out with her biggest, dimpled smile and starts solving the calc question. Even though she can’t see Bren’s expression, she feels his icy gaze on her head, and it makes her laugh inside.

                                                           ****

           Rosco’s mixtapes have gotten better overtime. In middle school and freshman year, his tapes had little to no rhythm, whack lyrics but the beats weren’t so bad. Lately though, he’s improved so much. His beats are fire, the lyrics aren’t cringy and there’s balance to all the elements of music.

           “So? What do you think?” Rosco licks his lips anxiously, expecting his friend’s answer.

           Bren grins, handing Rosco his headphones. “Men, this is . . .wow. I loved it. It’s soulful and upbeat at the same time. That line about soulmates like peanut butter and jelly. It was cheesy but cute. You did it, Rosco. You’re officially my favourite local producer, song writer, singer and rapper.” He holds out his hand and Rosco channels all his excitement into the handshake.

           “Really? Wow, dude. Thanks. I really put so much into this. I’m going to play it at Homecoming and then upload it on Apple Music and Spotify. Thanks dude. This means so much!” His grin is boyish and big and Bren pats his shoulder like a proud father. He actually is proud of Rosco. His talent for music is undeniable. Even when his production skills were horrible, he had such a powerful voice and could outrap everyone at Wintercrest combined.

           “Good job. Make me your manager when you hit it big.”

           “Sure,” Rosco laughs and starts tweeting something about how dope Homecoming at Wintercrest would be this year with him as one of the DJs. Shira does her catwalk over to meet them and when she gets there, she places a not so brief kiss on Bren’s cheek.

           “Hey baby,” she says as they take a seat. “Jace loved the idea of having a combined pre-homecoming party on Friday. Instead of it being Jace’s party, it’d be Shira and Jace’s party. I offered my house. His is way smaller, you know. We already have big head DJ Rosco here, so he’d help set up and bring food and drinks.”

           “Would your parents be cool with that, though?” Bren frowns.

           “Of course. I’ve set a standard, hosting two parties when the semester just began! I need to let my hair down without thinking of the SATs next year.”

           Bren nods. She’s writing hers in February and March, and so is he. He’s been considering writing first in October and then next year, but nothing’s set in stone yet. His plans could change. He needs Mr Ariel’s advice on this one. Speaking of Mr Ariel . . .

           “Hey, Shira,” he sits up and then realizes he doesn’t know what exactly to ask. ‘Hey Shira, do you have any idea why Mr Ariel has so many unaware photos of Kaia in his camera?’ That would definitely pique her interest like it did his and he knew Shira, she’d do something radical and he didn’t want that just yet. Mr Ariel is his favourite teacher and he wouldn’t want to do anything that’d affect his job eventually. I’d figure it out.

           “I’m listening?” Shira draws Bren’s attention back to herself.

           He waves his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I was just wondering if you’ve . . .gotten that homecoming dress.”

           “Of course, I have. I hope you’ve gotten your tux too, my king.” She leans forward and strokes his chin lightly. He nods his agreement and lets his mind wander back to Mr Ariel’s photos, and Kaia. They’d somehow continued bickering while they studied and spent two hours learning from each other without realizing it. He, for a fact, had definitely learned so much from her. Her swiftness with solving math problems, how she uses mnemonics to memorize things too difficult for her to remember, and those stupid blue berries she chewed throughout. ‘Brain food,’ she had said when he asked her why she was eating them nonstop. She was really, really smart. Without a shadow of doubt. Maybe even smarter than him? Gosh, no.

           Kaia chooses that exact moment to walk into class, her braids framing her small face, her bag hanging on her left shoulder and her nose in a book. God, did she glow. Even when she wasn’t trying, she radiated like some Black goddess. No internal compliments or admiration, Bren scolds himself and when he notices Shira move, he gets out of his head.

           She’s already seated in Kaia’s chair and when the goddess—girl— gets there, she looks stunned.

           “You’re in my seat,” she says.

           “You don’t have a seat here because you don’t belong here.”

           “Can you just . . .get up?”

           Shira peeps behind Kaia and then scans the classroom. “Where’s Astrid? Or Adan? Why aren’t any of them around you like a body guard?” she slaps Kaia’s book out of her hands and the sound makes Rosco emerge from his tweeting. He glances at Bren.

           “Stop her,” he tells him because Bren is the reason she’s doing this anyway. He’s the only antidote that can stop Shira. Bren, however stays put in his seat.

           “The Metleys is important to Bren. Everyone may call you smart and whatever, but if you don’t win this competition, I’d pin it on you and make you pay for it for the rest of your life. Don’t come for the Homecoming game next Friday or the dance on Saturday. Stay home and study. Do you hear me, SK?”

           A fuming Kaia just bends, picks up her book and turns to leave. Not before Shira pulls her back with the strap of her bag, so violently that she stumbles backward and falls to the floor.

           “Never walk away before I do.” Shira’s smile is smug and sinister as she swerves her lean hips back to her seat.

           Bren is still staring at Kaia and when she gets off the floor, their eyes meet. His cheeks warm up and his heart does a little something. He’s staring at her and what is this thing he feels? Pity? Pfft, he shouldn’t pity her. He hates her. But why isn’t he pleased with Shira, and why does his heart hurt when she turns and walks out of the classroom?