Cevic

Chapter 18

Fun: (definition) enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure

 

 

 

Fun

 

I had been in school barely for a few weeks. Some humans, the popular and snotty ones treated me like I perfectly blended into the surrounding, and honestly I didn’t mind, because that was how Cevicïans treated one another.

  The surprising was, some of the humans treated me like I had been one of them for a long time.

  Patricia was shockingly warm toward me, and remembering Rezia’s advice to be more benign, I started a conversation with her just before the game while the gym teacher was gone with the gym rap to collect the balls.

  Human small talk didn’t have any importance. It had no goal or content, yet the most challenging human action I have ever attempted on Earth. She didn’t fail to miss my bruises, but didn’t question. I knew that she was going to ask Rezia later.

 “Basketball time!” screamed our thirty-seven year old volleyball teacher, Ms. Khan in a bright red dry fit shirt with a neon yellow zipper and hot pink jogging shorts.

  I wasn’t very good with human fashion, but I was convinced that her outfit wasn’t very fashionable.

  The large court was divided into many sections. I was put into a group of five, with Lisa’s boyfriend, who turned out to be Jackson and not Johnson, a band member who was called Mackerel and wore a too-tight gym shirt, and the two ‘It-girls’, Sasha and Payton. Lisa, feeling unwell, had excused herself from the game after handing in Ms. Khan her parents’ letter. She then fleeted over to her boyfriend automatically.

 “Okay, we need to strategize,” started Jackson in his low, rumbling voice, cracking his knuckles as he looked over to our opponents over the net. “Strategize.”

 “A strategy is important,” agreed Lisa, clinging to her boyfriend’s muscle-rippling arm. “We can man-mark, as in each person takes one opponent, preferably the same gender."

 “I take Katie,” purred Sasha, deliberating taking the puny photography club girl who stood awkwardly, chewing on her lower lip.

 “I’m man-marking Greyson,” decided Jackson, eyeing his opponent with predatory eyes.

 “I’m taking Shannon,” cut in Payton, examining her hot pink and neon green nails.

 “Uh, uh, I’m taking Laurence,” decided Mackerel, crossing his arms with gritty determination.

  All eyes turned to me.

“You, my friend,” said Jackson finally, putting his big paw-like hand over my shoulder, “are rightfully destined to man-mark Jo Graham.”

 “Who is Jo Graham?” I asked.

All my team members’ eyes filled with pity, as he simultaneously pointed to the tallest member of the opponent team. Jo Graham was two heads taller than me. With healthily tanned golden skin, his body was as built as a bodybuilder.

 “Hockey team president,” added Mackerel meekly. “Two times won the Most Valuable Player award.”

 “You guys never told me!” I protested weakly.

 “He is bulky, yes, but he’s not a bad guy,” chimed in Lisa. “He is a nice person.”

 “To talk to, not to play against,” added Sasha truthfully. “Good luck, new boy.”