Friend

Chapter 1: Here Comes Trouble

I am screwed.

In a very bad kind of way. 

He won't forgive me. Not this time.

June, 2003 

He's kind of funny looking. A sharp nose, short chunky legs and a scowl that could put your mother to shame. 

Beam sniggers into his hand, the new kid is like Beam's grandmother when she's had a bad case of that pesky constipation. He would know, he's spent enough time waiting outside the toilet for his turn. It would be hilarious if the new kid was.

Constipated that is. 

Beam bursts into a fresh peal of giggles, the teacher tries to give him a reprimanding look amidst his wide-eyed look of innocence. He has perfected it by now. Phana thinks he's evil, Beam just think he's clever. 

'New kid' has been instructed to sit next to Phana. Beam gives him a look of sympathy, or at least that's what he was going for. Phana always gets saddled with the newbies. Something about being the smartest kid in class. 

Phana looks unhappy, though it's hard to tell with him. He looks pretty blank on most days. 

Beam and Phana had met at one of their parents' boring work parties when they were five. Beam thought Phana was a bore and Phana thought he was a troublemaker. Five years later that first impression stands.

Beam's got a lot of friends, his mischievous ways have endeared him to many. Phana is not even in his list of top five friends, top twenty if you count his swimming club friends. The only time they find each other worth talking to is, at those boring dinners Beam's parents take him to. Phana would be there without fail. 

They are doctors. Phana's parents and Beam's too. Except Beam's mother is a nurse. But it's all the same thing, according to Beam. 

At school, Beam's got his own set of friends and he assumes Phana does too, he's never really bothered to find out. 

The 'new kid' keeps staring outside the window which means he keeps distracting Beam with his winsome stares. Beam's already given up on the lesson, so he closes his notebook and pokes the new kid's pale hand with his pencil. 

Large brown eyes behind round spectacles stare at him, first with curiosity and later with mild annoyance.

Scratch that mild, actually.

Phana shakes his head at Beam, but Beam's too preoccupied to really notice. 

"Oi, new kid! What are you looking at?"

The new kid shushes him before turning his head to look ahead. Shushes him. The rudeness. 

Beam pokes the new kid again. He needs answers and he needs them now. 

"What?"

The new kid hisses like some kind of angry cat. Beam got scratched by one once. He had sprinkled it with water, figured the cat would appreciate it with the summer being as hot it was. 

"What's your name?"

The kid puffs up his cheeks, ignoring Beam, the beginnings of a scowl forming on his face. Beam finds him infinitely more interesting than the value of 'x' he is supposed to find. Not that he really knows why Mr. Ark decided to buy thirty mangoes and twenty two giraffes. Mr. Ark deserves his problems, if you ask Beam. 

Beam sighs, his advances at friendship have rarely ever been thwarted. 

He spends the rest of the class alternating between sighing, wondering whether his mother packed him the apple juicebox or the grape like he had wanted and taking glances at the unfriendly new kid who could probably rival Phana if the speed of his note-taking meant he was half as smart. 

Phana on the other hand, rarely writes anything. Beam follows in his footsteps, not that he's got much to show for it. 

The class is over, Beam's friend Park is shouting at him to get his butt out of his seat. Their break always feels too short. Half an hour is far too short to play football and have a snack. The lady at the canteen always serves the girls first, Beam's not too concerned, football's more important anyway. 

Beam drags Phana out of his seat, boring as he may be on occasions, he is a good football player and Beam needs the sixth graders to taste defeat. The new kid probably sucks at football, so Beam doesn't bother calling him. 

"Hey, do you want to join us?"

That's Beam's friend, Park. Sigh, that guy is such a bleeding heart. Beam waits impatiently his fingers digging impatiently into Phana's white skin. 

The new kid seems indecisive, he is chewing on his lip. 

"Come on."

Beam drags the new kid by one hand and Phana by the other. The sixth and seventh graders would have taken over the whole field by now. They would have to beg them to play now. 

xxx

Beam's got a split lip, the new kid's got a bruised knee and Phana's just there for shits and giggles, Beam presumes. Or it could have something to do with Ms. Jennie asking him to take them to the nurse's station. 

The match had not gone well. 

They had lost their right to play on the field for the better part of the week. And it was all the new kid's fault! 

Him and his short legs. 

Beam was going to bring the nastiest looking frog from his garden and shove it in his bag. It was what he deserved after losing the ball to the other team, fourteen times. Beam had counted.

Beam sulks, physically he's fine but his pride is still suffering from their humiliating defeat. 

The new kid, to his credit, looks pretty miserable himself. 

Good, serves him right, Beam thinks harshly but then stops himself. 

The new kid is crying. Big, fat drops fall on his rosy cheeks. 

Beam pretends to look at the poster telling them to wash their hands before Phana blocks his view. He raises his eyebrows, motioning towards the crying kid.

Beam sighs. He hates crying, it's why he doesn't talk to girls. The new kid hiccups when Beam pats him on the back.

"It's okay. We'll win the next time."

It physically hurt Beam to say that, but it's what his mother would have said, not that she understands how important football is. Beam has explained it to her more than once. 

The new kid's stopped crying, his face is red now and he sniffles every once in a while. 

"I'm Beam by the way. You can be my friend if you want to."

Phana's eyebrows raise, almost hidden by his floppy hair. 

"I'm Kit."

The new kid - Kit - finally says almost in a whisper. Beam's mind is whirling, So the angry kitty is called Kit? Nice!

Beam grins, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. 

"Kitty, I'm going to teach you how to play, don't you worry. Beckham style."

Phana snorts. Beam's grandmother had always said it was an ugly sound, but it doesn't sound that bad coming from him, Beam thinks belatedly. Kit, on the other hand, looks affronted again. 

"It's Kit! Not Kitty."

Okay, Kitty. 

"Sure thing. Anyway, Park's got a - "

xxx

Fin