Angel's Feet

Chapter 3 - It's not fair

"Mao chan, let's play!"

"Don't just pop out of nowhere and say that!"

She tried to hit him, but stopped herself when others were looking at her.

Maori was sitting alone outside on the benches, doimg her assignment, until he arrived from behind her to bother her.

"But you promised me a dance."

"I did absolutely no such thing." And even if she did, she wouldn't fulfill it.

"You're no fun, you know that?" He sat opposite to her and rested his chin on the table.

She sighed frustratingly. "Sorry, but I never had a goal to be fun."

"Then I'll teach you!" He sat up.

"Didn't you just hear me? Or are you deaf?"

"Oh look a butterfly!"

"You're a hopeless retard!" She closed her books.

"No, I'm serious. There's a butterfly over there." He pointed. "It's pretty because it's as blue as your eyes."

She rolled her eyes and made no attempt to look at the butterfly, even if it was real.

She stood up and picked up her bools and bag. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"I don't flatter. I only speak what's on my mind. Hey, where are you going?"

"Like it's any of your business."

Max stood up and followed her.

"Come on, tell me! Wait, I know. You have club activities, right?"

"As expected from a stalker."

"I'm not a stalker."

"Then stop following me."

"I actually have club activities, too. It's in your direction."

"Then stand so close to me."

"Why?"

"Because your breath stinks."

He stopped in his tracks on that remark. He raised a brow as she continued to walk. He brought a hand close to his mouth and exhaled on it. Then he brought it near his nose and sniffed.

"Hey, my breath doesn't stink! It's as fresh as mint!"

He complained only to the empty silence for Maori was long gone.

"Oh, she's good."

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Sweat and tennis balls circled in the air. The courtyard was reserved for the tennis club for the moment. Maori and her competitor, a spiky black-haired male who was also the president of the club, in their white tennis uniforms, played like their was no tomorrow.

The other members watched on as an audience in awe.

Though she would only come sometimes to the club, Maori wasn't half bad. Maori, in her white shirt, mini-skirt and shoes and ponytail, was good enough to even prolonge the match but not good enough to actually win it. She sweated and made her opponent sweat, but for him, it was nothing.

Deciding to end this battle, the opponent jumped high and hit the ball with such great strength. He was saving his energy for this one shot which Maori evidently missed and fell down flat on her face.

"You still haven't progressed much," the exhausted president said, "How about sparing some time for tennis too?"

Maori couldn't reply with a good comeback or look him in the eye. She just got up and headed to a chair.