Balls

5

The van looked rather rickety. Ballqis hugged her bag pack. It was filled with necessities for the next few days, unabridged, but she wondered if she'd be able to survive the trip. However, the thought of a week's worth of allowance steadied her.

"Ah, Ballqis, you're here. Grab those battery packs, would you?" Micah, the senior student from Timur Leste in charge of supplies immediately put her to work.

"What are these, are they part of the tank's set up?" said Ballqis as she approached a red carrier that has a handful of cables jutting out.

"Yes. In case there of a power outage we won't have to worry about the fish. And those blue cables, I tested them with our solar chargers just now, could you please tie them up using its velcro straps?" Micah answered.

He was already hard at work since 6am as he was the only one Mrs Jogh trusted to move the few selected fish. He placed a small tank labeled Tilapia 7 onto the mobile racks Mrs Jogh had fitted to the back compartment.

For a split second she thought Tilapia 7 was smiling as its tank was given a spot near the window pane.

"How many of those tilapias will we be bringing?" she asked as she folded the cables.

"Four, but the presentation will only require two. A lot can happen within the next 600 kilometres, you know," Micah whispered. 

They were supposed to leave campus at 7am today in order to arrive in Sydney before it gets too dark. Mrs Jogh had already reserved a bed for each one of them at the university they would be visiting. 

Mrs Jogh was pretty confident that her trusty Volkswagen Kombi would get them there safely.

"I've had it serviced and cleaned just for this trip," she announced the day before at the lab as the team was packing.

Mr Evans was also joining them. He had been roped in to generate the statistical report of the engineered species' growth. Micah, the only senior student who happened to be free enough to lend a hand, booked the back row seat so that he could lie down and sleep.

Iqball who had been helping Mrs Jogh with her presentation props was the last to climb into the van. As Micah had already dozed off even before Mrs Jogh started the van's engine, Iqball had no choice but to sit besides Ballqis. Mr Evans and Mrs Jogh were already immersed in 

The girl beside him pretended to be engrossed with the sight of the rising sun. He got her usual message: Don't talk to me.

He fished an apple from his bagpack. It was green. One can tell that it would be sour. He shoved it to her side, bumping her shoulder on a whim with the fruit.

Take it, he said with just a smile.

And that surprised Ballqis. How did Iqball knew she loves sour green apples?

Iqball dangled the fruit by its stem. Ballqis grabbed it before it could fall.

"Thanks," she said. It must have been a coincidence, she comcluded.

He said 'welcome' with a smirk.

I'll make her say more than one word next time, he said to himself.

***

Their first stop came only after three hours of driving. It was a small town with a gorgeous cafe overlooking a lake.

Iqball was the first one to step foot on the parking lot. He waited for Ballqis to slide out as the van had only one side door. He was channeling his inner gentleman, or whatever things manly from all of his 18 years of age, to help Balqiss out.

But the van shooked.

"Ooh, looking at the lake made me think of the loo!" said Micah, who seemed to have woken up at just the right time. He dashed out of the van using the side door before Ballqis could move.

"Let's have brunch. My late husband used to love coming here," announced Mrs Jogh with a tiny smile as she locked her old ride. 

The smell of waffles, fried fish and barbecued meat stole their fatigue. The entourage quickly placed their order and sat at a table near the ledge. As they waited for food, Micah was ecstatic to have spied a family of wallabies grazing nearby.

"Ms Ballqis and Mr Iqball, I haven't congratulate the two of you for scoring full marks on my recent quiz," said Mr Evans in the midst of lunch.

"Oh, my students being stellar in your class, Mr Evans? Even when I'm making them clean fish tanks every week?" Mrs Jogh chimed in.

"Oh, a little, I admit. It so happened that they're the only pair to have scored full marks since past five semesters. Congratulations, Ballqis, Iqball," Mr Evans tried to suppressed his delight.

"Do you know that they were schoolmates? They even had to share a Best Student trophy," Mrs Jogh asked.

"Really? I may have not paired you two had I known that," said Mr Evans thoughtfully. He never felt pairing two students who were familiar with each other could bring out the best in them.

"We never spoke to each other at school," Ballqis quickly clarified. Her tone was flat. It was hard to make out if she was happy or mad.

"We weren't in the same class. Ballqis tend to hang out at the library while I like the basketball court," Iqball interjected, uncomfortable with Ballqis' revelation.

"That's surprising," said Mr Evans, no longer regretting pairing them.

Ballqis avoided Iqball as much as she could for the rest of the hour. She wondered how did he know she spends almost 80 percent of her free time nesting between the book shelves at the library?

I must have looked pathetic, she cried inwardly as the van resumed its journey. 

Iqball could only steal glances as Ballqis curled herself with her bagpack at her side of the second row seat. Her chin-length hair fell over her cheek, hiding her expression from him.

I wish I could talk to her about school and figure out why had she shun everyone, there had to be a reason. She doesn't strike me as someone mean or uppity, he mused.

I heard her mom is a doctor with her own practice. Maybe she only talk to students from rich families, a classmate once speculated.

She's just arrogant, why bother asking? No one wants to befriend someone who thinks she's too good for everybody. That was what a girl from her class said to him.

But Iqball had overheard Ballqis admitting to Agamemnon last week.

I need the money, Aga. That was what she had said. Iqball's brow curved in confusion.

What's your story, really, Ball-kiss?