CO-ED

Way of the Stick

The gymnasium reopened and was made accessible again after it was closed down for days due to the replacement fittings on all of the old steel columns that held the dome ceiling intact. As usual, students were scattered all over the place warming up for an upcoming Physical Education class. For some, it was the best time to gossip, or talk to whoever proved to be appealing to the eyes. 

Jamie saw the wide open door to the place; not too long ago it was covered with thin walls of white-and-orange painted plywood. He remembered the scaffolding that soared above the structure and the small figures of men who replaced parts of the roof. A faint scent of last week’s paint hung around the entrance; wisteria and tomato red proved to be an unlikely combination that was forced to work. At least, it did not prove painful to the eyes.  

P.E. would not be on his schedule until tomorrow; his feet brought him to the place, lost in the eyes of those loitering at the benches and students in shirts, jogging pants and shorts dominated the central floor area. The banner of the crossed rapiers was lowered, shown in full pride (and in a cleaner state) at the other end of the hall.  

“Was our school founder a soldier, or a frustrated one?”  

Jamie found a way to entertain that thought in the form of an old rattan stick that strayed under the benches. He took it up and noticed the string decoration on one of its ends - a twined piece of red, yellow and green rope. His grip wrapped around one of the ends and he made a slow spinning motion with it, letting the soft whoosh of the stick cutting the air enter his ears. Jamie made more spins and resembled an amateur ninja with a training sword, which garnered attention from a few curious eyes.  His spins were mixed with strikes on an imagined foe; some overhead, others coming from the left and right flanks. 

The swift whistling ‘music’ stopped when Jamie caught the sight of two students wielding foils. 

“Someone’s having fun here” A sharp-looking red-haired boy rested the thin blade on his shoulder.

“Hey Steven” Jamie set the rattan implement aside “Looks like you two are done with practice” 

“Yup yup” A girl with a page boy’s cut who was beside Steven answered with her head angled high.

“This time, nothing’s stopping us from touching championship gold” 

“Elise here is inspired. You two are going for it all-out?” 

“You got that right Jamie,” Steven answered “You should’ve been part of our future victory had you not left the fencing team. It’s not too late to come back. We have half the school year before the tournament opens” 

“I’ve made up my mind about that long ago…” Jamie’s tone almost faded on the last two words. 

“It’s a waste not to see someone like you making it to the top” Elise relaxed her hold on the cup hilt, looking at the dark-haired student with eager yet somehow disappointed eyes.

“Coach Andre would have been a very happy man” 

“Leaving you guys all because I decided to go for something else is not the best excuse I have in mind, but…” 

“But what…?” Steven looked at Jamie whose hand went to the back of his head and started rubbing it. 

“Ah… ha ha!” Jamie’s hand started rifling his hair in disarray “It’s just that I think you will get somebody on the team who will be more determined than me.  Besides, I had to work more with books and notes since I’ve picked that as what I want to do” 

“A sword in one hand, a book on the other: man…that, would have been an awesome combo” 

“Could have been Steven,” Jamie shrugged “I guess I thought I was up to it but I can’t have everything even if I wanted to” 

“Either the team or the Honors…” Elise said with a sigh. 

“We respect that man, no hard feelings” Steven’s lips curved into a tentative smile and then rounded before saying, “Not that much” 

“Speaking of class, we are going to run late in one” Elise grabbed Steven by the arm and tugged at it. 

“Sheesh!  Berriman the Scaryman will have our heads for this. Strike three for me” Steven followed the teammate closely.

“See you around Jamie” 

Jamie nodded his head and watched the two dissipate into the forest of uniforms. It was also the time when the school’s cheer troupe formed rows and columns, occupying the entire halfcourt in the process. The stereo was being set at this time; the lines of boys and girls wearing different sporting attire worked on stretches and bends. 

That funny feeling was present again. He caught the source of it this time looking at him. 

She was there: a smallish girl with her hair stretched back in a ponytail. A few stray rays of sunlight highlighted a light and lithe form – one Jamie imagined to be easily thrown to the air to perform those circus-like feats during competitions.  

What was even funnier was that he did not know anything about her – nothing registered in his mind. Indeed, he had settled to be out of the school’s stage and leaving the circles of the popular and the driven made him pay with forgetting names. Jamie remembered most of them – but not her. 

Jamie flashed a confused smile, waving the rattan stick as an instant response to his own confusion (the greeting proved to be awkward in its sense still). Those brown eyes met with his again, with the owner returning an equally awkward expression – all the while tying her shoes. A holler broke the void between them when the girl was called back to formation. 

Jamie’s eyes followed the girl until she was lost in the lines of her colleagues.  His purpose for hanging around was done and the second to the last subject would begin in ten minutes. Striding would prove useful based on the distance between the gymnasium and the next school building. Jamie took a hand to his pocket while the other held the stray article he found; his backpack hung lazily behind as he sauntered off.