Silence is Golden

Chapter 21: February 2011

It was a week before the greatest night to be a mustang. That is, this huge event that takes place in some local stadium. Here's how it works:

Four classes. Freshman, Sophomores, Juniors, Seniors. I was a senior, the king of the school. Or at least I am supposed to. We compete in a sweaty, cramped little place, wherever that was, until a champion, one of the classes, reigns supreme. This was usually bias to the Seniors (big surprise). The night starts with a class dance, where hours are placed each week for these selected few that are representing the classes practice to perfect. This was then followed by many events such as the wheelbarrow, centipede, and other embarrassing stunts that usually gets someone hurt.

I was not planning to be one of them. Never in my life would I be so foolish to put myself in such a position of humiliation.

The day of the assembly came. Our class teachers performed some sort of Fire of Goblet ritual, pulling out names out of a brown, paper bag. A total of 40 students, 20 of each gender was called. I did not place my name in for this event. Yet, like Harry, I was called. The mob of football players cheered loudly, hurting my eardrums. I was more shocked than anything, wondering which of these football idiots put my name in. I couldn't back out now, they have started chanting my name, the whole senior class joining in. So I gave a weak smile and buried my face into my arms.

Ian was also in our Mustang gang. Practice started the week after. This meant I was going to be seeing a lot of him.

At the end of the first practice, he cornered me.

"Listen, little prick," he muttered to me, "I'm only doing this for Rain. Keep this up and I won't beat you up too badly. Got it?"

I nervously nod, pieces of the puzzle finally fitting together. Of course, that made me see this scheme in a new way. I'm always a believer of an eye for an eye.

I did my best to avoid him during dance practices. Then I started abandoning the whole Mustang thing all together. I also stopped joining his gang at lunch, returning to the spot that gave me a studentless view of the school. I ate faster that way. No one watching my every move. It gave me time to think.

I was hoping no one would find out. I was wrong.