Gifted | Sleepy Bois Inc

Chapter Twenty-Three

I swung my racquet. The birdie hit the tight strings and flew through the air, making a clean, whizzing sound. I watched as it hit the net and fell pitifully to the ground.

"You kind of suck at this, you know," Tommy remarked from where he sat on the sidelines, watching from a bench right up next to the wall.

I glared at him. "Does it look like I don't know that?"

He raised his hands in protest. "Hey, no need to get so defensive. I'm just stating facts."

"Thank you, Mr Obvious," I said through gritted teeth. "Look, if you think you can do it better, then be my guest. Come up here and face me. I need the practice anyway."

Tommy paled considerably. "Oh, no, thank you. I'm comfortable here."

He sipped on his drink, some sort of alien green smoothie from the shop right next to the gym, and smiled at me. I scowled back.

For the past month, I had spent all my time training. When in school, I worked on academics and keeping up my life in society. Whenever I was free, I was in the gym, working on building up stamina and resilience and reaction speed.

I preferred racquet sports over sweating my butt off in a sport like soccer or hockey. Chasing around a tiny ball and getting body-checked for your efforts seemed like a bad deal to me, so I stayed clear away from those sports. I tried out tennis, which was the optimal sport for arm strength, but the racquets were so heavy that it was actually stupid.

In the end, I ended up doing badminton. The racquets were lightweight, and there was enough running involved that I was actually being productive. I could work on stamina with the sport, and reaction speed plus distance covered was a major factor. Even if it was more jabby-jabby and stabby-stabby than my preferred slashy-slashy, I was still decent enough at it to enjoy the process of training as well.

"Serve, Techno," Skeppy called from the other side of the net. He was my preferred badminton partner. In fact, he was a lot better at the sport than I had expected, far more superior than me. The fact that he had only picked up the sport when I had hurt my ego more than I wanted to admit.

Skeppy --- or how I knew him better, Bandanna Guy --- had mysteriously appeared right when I needed him to train with me. He was actually pretty skilled at it for someone who I only knew to mess around with pranks and trolling people as a hobby.

Philza had offered to train with me as well. I said no to him playing badminton with me, because he ended up always sneakily using his wings to save the birdie from hitting the ground. But I did accept his offer for swordsmanship classes.

I picked up a new birdie and threw the old one at Tommy, who barely dodged it, nearly spilling his drink in the process. Skeppy got into position. I tossed the birdie into the air and swung.

Ten exchanges later, I found myself on the floor after a failed save attempt.

"You can't just throw yourself towards it," Skeppy lectured. "You need to lunge. Extend the body."

"How do you know this?" I demanded, more so in anger at myself than at him. "You're a beginner as well."

He shrugged. "I learn quickly."

"We've been doing the exact same things together."

Skeppy considered my words, then shrugged again. "I'm just better," he joked with a snicker. Then he quieted down. "Techno, the thing is, I don't have to be superb at the sport. I just have to be better than you. I learn how you play, I learn where you're more likely to make mistakes, and I use it to my advantage. What I understand isn't the sport; it's you."