My father's words rang clearly in my ear, "You will go to Coralis Academy Boarding School." I looked up at the dirty dry sketchy gray ceiling of the airplane #397 as my eyes filled with tears once again.
No. I told myself silently, I will not cry. It's for my tennis career. Father does care. He does… I looked out the window, silently glaring as the plane began its engine, "Ladies and Gentleman, please buckle your seatbelts and enjoy the ride to Apple state." I sighed and buckled myself aggressively. If I wasn't in first-class seats, in a single aisle area I bet my passenger partner would be looking at me as if I had grown five heads.
I fiddled with the box that I had been given upon arrival of the prestigious airline. Everyone on here had paid full amount for first class seating, on arrival to the Academy, and as obvious as this should be, the Academy owned their own airport, airliners, captains to fly the planes, and all the extra categories. These kids were going to be stuck up little devils as I can tell, noticing from he corner of my perpetual vision that everyone here were either doing the following: texting, listening to their iTouches, fiddling with their laptops, and more.
I sighed and took out my tennis racket from my passenger bag; my most precious item I've owned so far—it was one of a kind, made from a discontinued company that my dad had bribed to make a few for his 'gifted one.'
I straightened my strings, feeling the vibration it gave off as it popped into place after being used so long. The maroon color that was embroidered with gold and black was my signature colors. This racket had been through so much, and the strings being broken a few times, I had to use one of my spare ones, which haven't been broken into very well—making it quite uncomfortable to grip and play. But nonetheless, it had been torture without my racket for the few days it took to restring them and have them sent back to me. Multiple times it had happened, letting me break my other three spare rackets in slowly.
While it took a few hours to get to the NYC from Los Angeles, I had placed my bag on the 3 seats that sat across from me—ones I bet that were use for people to lounge on and chat with another. I threw my carryon bag on the third seat as well, knowing that if they had dared to touch it that they would get a good beating from me. And from Harm as well, my prized possession, my life.
I slouched over, taking off my seatbelt and decided to take a long nap if I was lucky enough. I placed over my hat that Hannah had customized for me that said, "In Memory of Harm and Handles." Harm was the name of my racket, Handles was what she, Hannah, was known for. I felt a small tug of my lips as I remembered that smile and contagious laugh of hers. She could always make me laugh, something that was shadowed and locked the day she left and moved away. That last smile I received from her, her straight teeth, her wavy dark brown-maroon hair that she dyed, and her gorgeous fluorescent golden eyes.
I ducked the gray hat slowly, and kept myself semi-awake incase anyone dared to touch my priceless items.
"Guys, look, wonder what kind of brand this racket is, the letter 'M' is on it though," A semi-deep voice said, "Must be a custom, I mean look at the strings and the coloring, she must be good to get this kind of quality." I heard a voice state in awe. I jumped in a jolt, seeing four teenage guys opening my tennis bag and messing with my purse.
"Fuck you bitches!" I shouted and saw them jump and freeze in motion as I peered over their shoulders, "Who the hell are you and what are you doing touching my stuff, let alone my rackets." I said in a dangerously calm tone, one that can give off the feel of 'back-off-don't-bother-me-tone'.
"Well?" I said, crossing my arms and tapping my foot on the carpeted floor, "Talk." I said, taking my racket, Harm, and hitting each boy's shoulders with it. They all groaned and clutched their shoulders in pain.
"We were.." One grumbled, "Just looking at your bag, sheesh, no need to get physical."
My eyes turned slit and glared at the blonde who said that, "And what gave you the right to touch my stuff, may I ask?" I said in a venomous accent.
"We saw you had a tennis bag and decided to see if you were a …serious player." He answered in a monotone voice. I only glared at him and sat back down, zipping all my items back in their place and studied Harm carefully.
"You guys are a hell of lucky, if you were to damage Harm, I'd swear you guys were in for it.' I said, letting my habit of stringing the strings of my racket again, "Besides, what are you guys here for? I mean just leave me alone, damn it."
They all somehow raised their hand as if the cops caught them red handed and shouted, "Hands up!" I only glared once again and sat back down on my seat, rearranging it so it would seat me in an upright position, yet I placed my hat over my head and tilted it to I could not see their prying eyes.
"Do you play tennis—" I heard a thump and a reply of an 'ow', "No, dip-shit, that's why she has a tennis bag with rackets in there. Geez."
"Do you plan on being on the tennis team?" I heard a familiar voice ask, I only looked up lazily before answering, "Maybe." Lie, a voice inside me screamed, your dyingto be on it.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you look like you are pretty good," Fuck him. "If you say being in second Doubles and first singles is good, then I don't know where you've been in your life." I commented quietly back, "Please don't tell me your going to Coralis Academy?" He nodded and I stifled a groan.
"Well, this is the plane that the school owns." He noted with sarcasm, I only glared at him and 'humph' in return.
"Double A is getting a head start on their training this year, did you hear that?" One of his friends stated to… what's-his-face over here.
"Double A?"
"Allister Academy, our number one rival." The kid in front of me informed, "Besides, I'm Kam, this is—"
"Rikki."
"Mike."
"Rod."
Five guys looked over from behind the chairs and introduced themselves. I had a feeling they were listening to our conversation, secretly.
"Ashton. But you can call me Ash, babe," He said with a wink at the end. I only scowled, while his friends chuckled at my face.
"Allistar—not the school Allister, they have an E in their name, and I have an A."
"Tyler, or Ty, whatever you want." Tyler said in pure boredom.
"Jack, nice to meet 'cha." He gave me what could pass as a flirty smile
"And I'm Jeff." Waved awkwardly a cute one with spiked up in the front hair. He wasn't half bad looking, pretty easy on the eyes, actually they all were if you actually based them on their outer appearances solely.
They seemed to be waiting on me, "What?" I asked a bit aggravated at their consistent staring, "So." Kam asked, "What's your name?"
Oh. "Memory Sarai." I told them my full name, "So is the team, you know, matter on gender basis?" I asked.
"So you are interested in joining the team," he looked me over, "Well, you're easy on the eyes, so your answer is yes." I made a scowl and in habit crossed my arms, ticked off. "Where's the captain? Are you guys JV players?"
"Hell no." Ashton said, "We're damn varsity. Just coming back after a good month-long winter vacation with our families, and now we're heading back to our dorms."
"Yea, we had to make a few stops, this things like a bus, like 50 different stops until the full ride to the NYC." Rod added in a kicked-back tone, "Have you even been to New York?" Asked by none other than Jeff himself.
"Nope." I popped the 'p' on my lips, "Fresh from Los Angeles babay." I said with a twang, earning a few laughs and chuckles.
"So tell me about yourselves, guys." I said, trying to start a half-hearted conversation, I mean I was starting a new school and I'd need some acquaintances, so why not start now.
Kam started, "Well, I'm a sophomore, 15 of age, and… um, I like sugar?"
"Rikki, like you know, and… I'm also a sophomore, 14 though, um, and I have this knack to loose focus quite quickly."
"Yo," Mike began, "I'm the typical stud of the family and you can call me in the middle of the night any time." He said with a quick nod of the head. I glared at him and leaned over slowly, closing in on his lips, before pulling back and backhanding him. He just sat there, shocked at what had just happened.
"Any more of those pick up lines, I swear you'll get worse than he got." I glared at each and every one of them.
After an awkward silence, someone continued, "Rod's the name, and I… love sushi. And food."
"Yea, when he's starving, he could eat a cow… and… a pig."
"And Ashy here is a total nerd, who can figure any opponent in a few hours time, and investigating." I shrugged as one of the guys answered for the poor Ashton.
"Allistar, and I have the passion of hate to be compared in the Double A school." Allistar said with a tone that set he was serious. I just looked straight at him, with my innocent straight face.
"Jack THE stud, not Mike, ignore him, but you can do the same thing minus the slapping part." He winked and laughed cutely. I couldn't help but go and lean over but punching his gut. He groaned in sudden pain, I just smirked.
"Tyler, I hate ties." He muttered.
"Jeff." The child said his name.
"I know that," I replied, "anything interesting about you?" He just shrugged.
Jack jumped over and gave Jeff a knuckle-rub on the head, causing Jeff to smile and immediately swat him away, but as quickly as the smile came, it went.
I yawned and mumbled, "Don't touch my stuff. I'm half awake." They all groaned before saying, "Wait, you haven't told us about you yet!"
I yawned and stretched before curling up in my seat and mumbling, "Later."
