The Twenty-seventh Day of Hunting, Y12
Maraqua
I felt half dead the next morning, trudging my way, in slow motion, down the hall. I met up with Lilo Blumario, who was bright and cheerful as always, already prepared for today's challenge. He greeted me with his typical friendly smile. "G'day, Luvea."
"Mmmm…..uh, hi." I stifled a yawn. "What's up?"
"Nothing. I see you didn't sleep well."
"No," I replied, "Just not enough."
"You hungry?"
"Um, kind of…"
"Well," said Lilo, "I suggest that you come down for breakfast as soon as you can, and get some toast before the Brightvalers get their hands on all of it."
"Uh-huh. Sure."
I forgot how credible this advice was, for I had forgotten Team Brightvale's strong, almost abnormal love of toast, and how quickly breakfast could disappear. I took my sweet time getting ready, and came down to find the breakfast table bereft of food, except for crumbs, rinds, and scraps.
"I warned you," Lilo said, taking the last piece of bacon. He was considerate enough to snap it in half and offer it to me, but I let him keep it, for which he seemed grateful. I could go without breakfast.
Maraqua was best described as "a house divided." If the Altador Cup were a soap opera, the five members of Maraqua would make up at least ninety percent of the drama. On one side you had the majorly talented team captain/only forward/talented althete/terrible person Elon Hughlis, te Black Hole. On the other side were his teammates/supporting cast/less-talented but respectable athletes/better people. It wasn't uncommon to hear a noisy argument goin on in this group after every match. But, despite the constant drama, they were a pretty tough team to beat. They had three defenders, making their team a good obstacle for most forwards.
The first of the Maraquan Water Wall was the right defender, Barit Jowes. He was Techo, pleasant in appearance and manner. He was pretty quiet, always polite, willing to play well with others. Unlike his other teammates, he never bothered trying to argue or calm things down. He was generally quiet, easygoing, and kept to himself. Of course, that didn't mean that he wasn't a legitimate opponent. He certainly didn't go easy on other teams. He was a solid guard and had a knock for blocking many a well-placed shot from getting to the net, and did so every time he was needed.
Oten Runeu was in the centre. He was a big, hefty Skeith, scaly like a sea dragon or something. He was the big gun of the Maraquan defence, big and strong and not to mention very determined. He was willing to do anything to get that ball…but the problem was that he didn't always know how to get it. Improvisation wasn't his thing. He was a doer, not a thinker. And he wasn't a scorer, either. His main strategy was to use his brute force for all it was worth, often involving body slams. Painful, painful body slams.
Dorina Hals was the left forward. She was a sweet Maraquan Aisha with braids. It was impossible to make her angry or sad. She usually kept up her happy attitude, which was remarkable considering that she had to share a team with a captain like hers. She was a very speedy, agile girl and a selfless passer—Fyora knows how much they needed a passer!—but she wasn't very tough and not much of a tackler. Not only did she have the rather strenuous (or usually dull) job to be the defender, but she also had the thankless task of keeping the peace in Team Maraqua. The poor girl. But somebody had to do it.
Hidden behind the relative safety of the Water Wall was the goalie, Tonie Plessix. Tonie was a striped Koi, the biggest I'd ever seen. He was also the fattest athlete I'd ever laid eyes on. He was so big that he was able to block most of the net just by standing there. Of course, on the flipside he was unfortunately not the most agile goalie ever. An intuitive and sensitive soul, he had a good sense of what was going to happen, but he often at the mercy of unpredictable moves. Any athlete wicked enough to throw him off and get him to bite a fake could make him look downright clumsy.
However, in order to even get to the defenders, we had to get the ball first. And that meant getting it before Maraqua's only forward did. And their only forward was none other than "The Black Hole" himself.
He was about my age. The eyes were wide and yellow, and the well-formed facial bones were smooth underneath green skin, a very likable face. Whenever anyone saw Team maraqua for the first time, it was clear that he was the dominant one of the group.
Too dominant.
Elon Hughlis was the most selfish athlete in the tournament. Despite being the team captain, he wasn't a very good leader. Actually, strike that. He was a terrible leader. He was more concerned with his own personal accomplishments than those of his team as a whole, or in wins and losses in general.
In a perfect world, where the good sports always won and the bad sports…didn't, Elon Hughlis would be a terrible athlete. Unfortunately, Neopia isn't a perfect world. Elon Hughlis was an insufferable ass who, without effort, could kick almost anyone's ass. He was a tough guy, much tougher than he looked, and apparently he worked very well under pressure, during those pesky clutch moments. And he could score.
But he never passed. Never. Not even when he was being double, even triple-teamed. He'd just take shot after shot after shot at the net, and usually he managed to get it in. That's probably one of the main reasons why he was far and away Maraqua's best scorer—he was the only one who'd even get a chance to score. Once he had the ball, you could forget about ever seeing it again. Which was annoying.
So, in reality, when I said that my team was playing against Maraqua, we were really just playing against Elon Hughlis.
Tonie, Oten, Barit and Dorina were talented enough, sure, but it was Elon who had the skills to get a win. The only reason they endured his insufferable antics was because of his great ability. I'm sure everyone wanted to wash their hands of him, but trading was out of the question—there was no way any other team in the world would give them a humbler, equally talented member in return for their headache. There were rumors that the manager actually tried to bribe some of the other teams to trade Elon Hughlis. (Evidently it didn't work.) So Maraqua's supporting team was stuck with being mere field spectators to the Black Hole.
We all hated him. But most of us knew better than to speak to him, encourage him, or strike up a conversation with him. Unless he spoke to you first. Then you could insult him to your heart's content. Not that he cared or anything.
We all made jokes about him. Here are a few examples of what some people came up with:
Q: What do you get when you cross when you cross outer space with an athlete and somebody's ass?
A: The BLACK HOLE.
Q: What does a freight train have in common with Elon Hughlis?
A: Neither of them is gonna make a pass.
Okay, so they weren't that funny. Not really. But still.
Our match with Maraqua was going to start in a few minutes. The Maraquans—well, only four of them, considering that girls weren't allowed in our locker room—were standing together in front of their lockers, arguing loudly, their voices harsh and angry. Of course, Elon was shouting the loudest, asserting his comments over theirs. Tonie and Oten protested angrily, but eventually gave in. Meanwhile, Barit just kept to himself, pretending to be interested in polishing his sling.
Vonde, Leera and I were discussing strategies when Elon Hughlis walked by. Suddenly, he stopped. Then, he waved his hand in front of his face in disgust. "Ugh. What is that smell?"
Everyone looked around. Harlis Neybol sniffed his armpits and then shrugged in confusion.
"Oh yeah." Elon sneered and started walking off. "That's the smell of losers."
Volgoth overheard this, and slammed his giant fist into his giant palm. "How 'bout I shove your head up your ass. Then we'll see what you'll be smellin'."
Vonde gritted his teeth and Lamelle shot Elon a death glare. I snorted. Leera, of course, was above such nonsense, and didn't even acknowledge Elon, even as he laughed at our unthreatening displays of anger. When he left, Vonde immediately pretended to strangle the air. It wasn't as good as strangling the real thing (Elon), but it was better than nothing.
"Ignore him, Vonde," said Leera. "We can handle Maraqua, alright?"
"No. We can handle the Black Hole," Lamelle corrected.
"But in order for that to happen, we need to concentrate," Leera reminded him. "Remember the most important rule about Maraqua?"
"Get the ball first," said Vonde.
"And what else?"
"Don't get sucked into the Black Hole," said Lamelle, dutifully.
"By adding a third defender, Maraqua opted to rely almost exclusively on Elon 'The Black Hole' Hughlis for their offense. Last year's showing indicates it was a smart decision, don't you think, Hov?"
"I should say so, Toby. Ever since bolstering their defensive unit with the addition of Oten Runeu, the Maraquan team has been much tougher to score against. Don't expect them to allow many easy opportunities today."
The Maraquans entered the arena—Barit first, then Dorina, Oten, and Elon—and my team came in after them. I faced Elon, and he gave me his most obnoxious sneer. "Well then, ready to get kicked, Loser Trivon?" Then he paused. "Oh. Wait. You're name is Luvea. See how I can get confused?"
I glared at him, sending a cloud smoke out between my teeth. Elon laughed loudly as everyone got into their places. The gong sounded, and a few seconds later, a snow Yooyu surfaced.
Elon lunged for the Yooyu, but Vonde sprinted forward and snatched it before Elon could get it. Oten saw Vonde coming towards Maraqua's goal, and stormed over to him. I swear that the ground trembled with every step he took.
"Vonde!" I shouted, running to him, "Watch out!"
I reached Vonde. Oten took a huge leap at us. "BIG PAPA SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"
"Oh, crap!" Vonde shouted.
He got out of the way in time. I didn't.
Oten landed right on me in a vicious body slam. He had to weigh about 300 pounds. I was literally crushed under his weight.
The audience roared with laughter. The Ref blew the whistle. "Time out!" he shouted. "Mr. Runeu, please get off Mr. Trivon before he smothers! Come on, pick up the pace."
Oten got off me, plenty embarrassed. "Sorry, Luvea."
I sat up. "Yeah, it's okay."
Vonde came back over and helped me up. "Wow, dude. Break any bones?"
"Uh, no, I don't think—"
Elon stormed over to Oten, flushed in the face and red in the eyes, furious. "Oten! What was that! You just cost us a goal! What is wrong with you, you brainless excuse for a lump?!"
"Uh, I, uh, sorry Captain. I just—"
"It's not that hard to guard Cayle! You're bigger than him! You could've just blocked his way, but NO, you had to just jump on him and waste time."
"Hey, Captain, calm down. No need to—"
"And you didn't even land on him! You fell on the stupid defender! Trivon can't score squat, and Cayle got away! If the Ref hadn't called a time-out he would've scored on us! Did you think of that?"
"It was an act of the moment. I—"
"Oh, shut up. Next time, just give the ball to me! I'm the forward! I'll take care of it!"
"Okay, Captain, but—"
Elon didn't let him finish his sentence. He let out a frustrated roar and stormed back to his spot, and Oten, annoyed but still having dignity, went back to his.
The game resumed, with the Yooyu resurfacing and everyone jumping back into action. Elon snatched up the ball, and dashed for our goal, not forgetting to shove Vonde oh-so-subtly. Vonde snarled and stormed after him, but Lamelle got him first. He took Elon out from under—roughly—and tossed the ball to me.
I ran a few yards and tried passing to Derbi. She caught it, but then Oten got her from behind, nearly knocking her over and forcing her to fumble. Vonde tried to get to her, but Barit went right in front of him, blocking the way. He was doing an amazing job guarding Vonde, who tried in vain to escape. Elon snuck by and reclaimed the ball, smiling—smirking, really. I tried going after him, but he made it to our goal.
Leera just barely dodged in time and got the ball with his fingertips. The crowd roared. Elon growled with rage.
Leera leapt back up to his feet and threw the ball to Lamelle, who threw to me. I caught up with Derbi and Vonde and we got into a formation around the goal, passing the ball to each other. Dorina was trying to keep up. Barit was about to jump in front of Vonde when Derbi got the ball in time and threw a nasty fake at the net. Poor Tonie lost his balance and missed the ball. He fell down with a heavy THUD.
There were cheers and jeers from the crowd. The score was 1-0.
Elon stomped over to Tonie. "What was that?"
Tonie tried to get up. The poor guy had landed flat on his face. "Uh…"
"You just screwed us! How could you have let that ball get to the net!?"
Tonie was up now, and none too happy. "Hey, look, Elon. It was a fake. I didn't see it coming, oka—"
"Didn't see it coming? She was headed right toward the goal with the Yooyu in her sling! What is this about you not seeing it coming?"
"I mean she made a move that I didn't think she'd make, okay?" Tonie snapped. "I can't do everything, you kn—"
"Next time, protect the goal, you fat lubber! Come on!"
Dorina came over quickly as she could. She put her hand on Elon's shoulder reassuringly. "Now Captain, you're just being silly. Tonie will do fine next time. He just made an itty-bitty mistake, that's all."
"What do you mean, 'itty-bitty'? HE LET THE BALL GET TO THE GOAL! What are you, blind!?"
"Hey, Elon! Lay off!" Tonie was losing his temper. "I'll get it next time, okay? Just…I mean, seriously! Lay—"
"Don't tell ME what to do!" Elon shouted. "I'm the captain! Do as I say! Got it?"
Tonie snorted with anger but said nothing else.
Dorina tried again. "Oh, Captain, y—"
"And you!" Elon turned on her. "Where were you? Didn't you see her coming? Why didn't you tackle her?"
Dorina looked embarrassed. "B-but I can't….I'm mean, I'm not very good at…"
"GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Elon threw his arms up in rage. "I'm surrounded by idiots!" With that, he stormed off to his spot.
During this whole time, my teammates and I could only stand and watch awkwardly. Leera was shaking his head. I was just happy that I had Leera Heggle for a captain and not The Black Hole.
The game started back up, and a robot Yooyu surfaced. Elon ran forward, grabbed it, and got towards the goal. Lamelle pursued him, but "The Black Hole" was too fast and reached the net. He tossed at an open space, but Leera sensed it coming and lunged that way, effectively snatching the ball.
The clockwork Yooyu started pulsing red, signaling that it was going to blow any minute. Leera sensed the immediate danger, and threw the ball high into the air. It exploded with a shower of embers, like fireworks. There were "oohs" coming from the crowd. Elon gave a stifled scream that he'd wasted ten seconds and didn't get to score.
The next Yooyu to surface was Darigan. Elon grabbed it, and flung it. As luck would have it, it went to the back, towards his side of the field. Dorina Hals was able to grab it first, but Vonde tackled her and she lost her grip. He tried going for Maraqua's goal, when Barit Jowes dutifully got in his way, guarding him, his arms spread out. Vonde was getting frustrated. I could see it in the redness of his face. He tried throwing the ball over Barit's shoulder, but Barit went back and blocked it before it reached Tonie.
He was relishing a moment of having the ball (the poor guy, with a teammate like Elon, rarely even got to hold the ball) when Lamelle stole it from his grasp and flung it into the net. It bounced off against Tonie's huge frame.
When the ball headed back out to the field, Lamelle caught it, and passed back to Vonde, who had made his way to the other side of the field, with open arms. Vonde caught it, and then I caught it, and then passed to Derbi, and then back to Vonde, now unguarded, and took another shot. Again, Tonie was able to block it, but he was clearly starting to get a little flustered and breathless.
The Yooyu was propelled back to the center of the field, and Elon, lying in wait, did not hesitate to push himself past Vonde and Derbi, and scopp the ball into his sling, holding it close to his chest like a valuable piece of treasure.
I tried to go after him. I really did. Lamelle and I both did. Lamelle was right on his tail (so to speak) the whole time, and I was just able to keep up with him. But nothing we could do could stop him. He was planted right in front of our goalpost, taking shot after shot at poor Leera, who, thanks to the erratic movements of the Darigan Yooyu, looked like he was on the verge of madness. My attempts at tackling were fruitless. Elon was just too stubborn to give up the ball, too tough to be fazed by Lamelle's relentless grabbing. Eventually he wore us out so much that he pulled a vicious fake at the net, throwing Leera off balance and sending the ball right into the center of the net.
More cheering erupted from the stands (especially from the rather relieved Maraquan fans). For a brief while, Elon stood, insufferably proud, in front of our net, briefly basking in the delighted cries and flashing bulbs from the audience. I expected him to savor the glory for a little longer. But instead, Elon looked over his shoulder, saw his teammates, and his face immediately darkened. He went over to Barit, who was just standing to the side.
"Bary, that was a fail of a guard. An outrageous epic fail."
Barit said nothing.
"Did you hear me?" Elon raised his voice. "I said, you failed as a guard! You were supposed to corner Cayle at all costs! Remember the strategy? How the hell am I supposed to score when you're not doing your job?"
Barit shrugged.
"Oh Captain," Dorina said, coming over, "Don't be mad at him."
"Oh, I'm MAD all right. Barit, seriously! You're the defender! You defend the goal! Come on, brainless, do your job next time! If it weren't for me, we would have lost! Now do it right or we lose the match!"
"But Captain," Dorina protested, "We're tied."
"A draw is not a win, Dorina. A draw is not a WIN."
Oten came over as well and stood beside Barit. "Captain, hey, it's okay. He—"
"Hey! Was I talking to you, big guy?"
"Uh, uh, no, bu—"
"That's right. Now go back to your spot and stay there!"
"But—"
"GO! That means you, too, Dory! Both of you! GO!"
Oten grunted and stomped off, and Dorina sheepishly followed him. Elon went on to shouting at Barit, who didn't protest, or show any sign of distress, but suffered in impressive silence. With one last roar of frustration, Elon went off, and Barit went back to his spot without hesitation.
Of all the members of Team Maraqua who had to deal with Elon Hughlis, I think I felt the worst for Barit Jowes. He was just so quiet. If anyone yelled at me like that—on a regular basis, no less!—I don't know how I'd tolerate it. Not like he did, that was for sure. He was either super stoic, super gracious, super submissive, or super deaf. Or all the above. With Barit Jowes, who rarely spoke out of turn, it was hard to tell.
Once Elon had finished scolding Barit, the game continued, with a normal Yooyu surfacing. Elon snatched the ball first, and headed towards our goal. Lamelle and I double-teamed him viciously—and, I'm not gonna lie, I took a great amount of pleasure in doing so. We may have gotten a bit rough—Lamelle especially—but there was honestly no other way to get the ball away from Elon. Lamelle finally resorted to wrenching the ball from his grasp while I shoved against him, throwing him off balance. If I was ever going to play dirty, it was always when I was against Elon Hughlis.
Not that it hurt him. The only thing that bothered Elon was that he lost the ball, especially to a shrimp like Lamelle, and a wimp like me. He started chasing after Lamelle, who tossed to Vonde. Vonde tried to head towards Maraqua's goal, but Barit blocked the way. Vonde tried to sneak an underhead shot, but Tonie strategically placed his enormous body to block the gap in the net. Dorina then picked up the ball and sped down towards our side. I managed to chase her down and tackle her, snatching the ball into my sling. I followed Derbi parallel and passed to her. She was headed for the net, where Vonde was waiting, when Oten Runeu, like a giant, scaly green wall, stepped in front of her.
Now, anyone else would have tried to run around him, or pass around him, but that was too risky of a move in front of someone as big as Oten Runeu. But Derbi Azar, being our trusty, crafty, wickedly clever Derbi Azar, knew full well that Oten wasn't a strategic thinker, and didn't have a mind for tricks. She got that mischievous gleam in her eye, the one she always got whenever she was about to pull off something questionable. Holding the ball tight, she presented it to Oten.
"Hey, big boy! Is this your ball?" She started tossing it from one hand to another, at lightning speed, behind her back, over her head, back and forth, left and right. "Where's the ball? Where's the ball? Where's the ball? Where's the ball? Is this your ball? Is it this, or this, or here, or this or that, come on, where's the ball? Where's the ball? Where's the ball?"
I got dizzy just watching. Poor Oten could barely keep up. Finally he must have decided that enough was enough, and grabbed her arm. Only to find that she was empty handed. He gaped at her.
Derbi shrugged. "Sorry. No ball."
Suddenly there were loud cheers. Everyone turned in the direction of Maraqua's net. Tonie was trying to get up from the ground, while Vonde stood in triumph before the net. The Yooyu uncurled itself happily. I couldn't help but laugh. Derbi, in all the years I played with her, never ceased to amaze me.
"Oh, there's the ball." Derbi shrugged a shoulder at Oten. "Sorry, big guy."
Oten grunted. He knew full well that Derbi had outcrafted him, but there were no hard feelings. Just minor annoyance.
Elon, on the other hand, was furious. He ran up to them, red in the face. "Oten, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Oten was trying very hard to stay calm. "Look, uh, Captain, it was just—"
"Do you realize how much you're messing up my game?"
"Whoa, Elon," Derbi said, stepping between them. "Take it easy. It wasn't his fa—"
Elon turned to her. "Hey! I'm yelling here! You mind?"
Derbi did a deep curtsy. "Well, excuse me, princess. I shall now tear myself from your side." She did not hesitate to do so. She also threw an inappropriate gesture at his back for good measure.
Elon barely noticed. He resumed shouting at Oten. "So, what was that? Are you brainless or something?"
"Captain, calm down. I just—"
"You just screwed everything up! The Desert has two points! And we only have one! How the hell are we supposed to recover from that?"
"Well, look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Next time, DO YOUR FREAKING JOB! Got it?"
"Uh, okay, Captain, but—"
"I'm the captain! Do as I—"
The Ref stormed over to them and blew his whistle. "ENOUGH! Get your butts to the center and shake hands. Game's over! Save it for the locker rooms!"
Elon knew better than to argue with the referee. He shot Oten and Barit each a quick, angry look and then marched to the center of the arena to meet up with Leera. They shook hands, but it was clear that there was no love to be lost between these two, despite their best efforts at sportsmanship.
Poor Leera. I could never get over my ego enough to shake hands with Elon Hughlis, not even if you paid me.
And so, later, after Elon released his anger in a noisy outburst, we were able to proceed and have dinner in peace (or as close as we could get to peace). After that, I decided that I would make the best of my time in the gym. I came in, and tried lifting weights. I made it up to the twenty-pound ones before having to stop. I sat alone for a while, and noticed a full-body length mirror nearby. I approached it.
I saw my reflection. For a Draik, I wasn't that impressive. I didn't have much in the way of muscles. My arms were too thin. As I saw myself, I couldn't help but feel my confidence waver. We were doing well so far, but still, we needed to keep it going. I needed some convincing.
"Okay," I said to my reflection, "Listen to me. You're in a championship. You're in a powerhouse team. Your team has won third place twice in a row. Your captain has vowed that we will win. And now you've gotta do something to make it happen. Come on, you can do it! You're good! Erm…well, good enough. I mean, you're not great, but…okay, okay. Focus. You're good. You're a solid player. You can tackle, pass, and you're consistent. Okay, you're inexperienced, and you're a terrible scorer, but so what? You can help! You can do it! You're in the Cup, for Fyora's sakes, so it's time to stop the wimping around, get your act together and kick some ass! Come on! Are you with me! Are you with me?!"
Behind me, Barit Jowes cleared his throat.
I blushed like crazy. I hadn't even noticed his reflection in the doorway. I turned to him. "I knew you were here," I lied. "I was just, you know, going over my stuff."
"I figured."
I sat down on one of the racks. "So, um…what brings you here?"
"Elon said I needed to work on my strength. I thought I'd do push-ups. You mind?"
"Uh, no. No! Of course not. No. Go ahead!"
Barit got on the floor and started his push-ups, and I grabbed one of the lighter weights. I was too wimpy to pick up anything over fifteen pounds. As we exercised, we talked. "So, um, Elon told you had to do this?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"'Cause he said so."
"No, I mean, why'd he want you to practice?"
"Oh. He says my guard was an ultimate fail today. He got pretty angry with me. He said that my mess-up cost us a pretty game."
"I thought you did well," I said. I meant it. Barit was an excellent guard—he'd stay on opponents and block their every shots, coming up every time he was needed. Even if Maraqua lost a match, I couldn't question the players' talents, not even Barit's.
"Well, Elon didn't."
"So?"
"He's the captain. What he says, goes. You understand, right?"
I was confused. "Don't you ever get to make decisions? Sway his opinion?"
Barit grunted when his chest hit the floor. "No, Luvea, it doesn't work that way. Elon is the leader. He makes the rules and the strategies."
"My captain always speaks with our manager, goes over strategies with us, and asks for our opinions. He says it helps give us a sense of teamwork when we plan stuff together," I said. I couldn't help but smile.
"You're lucky to have Leera," said Barit, without much sadness. "With Elon, it's his way, or the highway."
"But what if his strategies are wrong? Don't you ever argue with him?"
"No. Not me. Tonie and Oten sometimes do, and Dorina tries keeping everyone calm. But I don't get involved."
"Why not?"
"Well, I'm the youngest, kind of new, and inexperienced. I think it's better if I don't get caught up. I just keep to myself, you know?"
"I guess." I frowned. "But that doesn't mean you have to obey him all the time."
"Yes, it does," he said, simply.
"Why?" I asked.
"He's the leader," he replied. "I have to obey him."
"He's not a very good leader."
Barit sat up. "He's still my captain. He took the liberty to train me a little bit and sign me on. And he's my better."
I nearly dropped my weight. "Your better?"
"Yes."
"Seriously?"
"You're my better, too," he said.
Anyone who saw me as his better had to have a serious self-image problem. Poor Barit. "You think I'm your better? Oh, come on. How old are you?"
"I just turned twenty-three two weeks ago. I'm not that much older than you. And Elon is gonna be twenty-three soon."
"So? Why is he your better?"
"He's my better by experience," Barit said, sadly, "I'm inexperienced, and I can't score, and I'll never be as good as he is. I've a long way to go. I'm still learning, so Elon actually does teach me a few things. He's better than I'll ever be. And he is still my captain. I have to be loyal to him."
"But why am I your better?" I asked. "I'm inexperienced, too, you know. And I can't score, either."
"You're my better in everything else," said Barit. "You can solve problems. You're not afraid of correcting people. You're brave."
Brave? Fat chance. "Well," I said, "I dunno where you got that idea from, but trust me, I'm not better than you. I'd like to think that we're equals. You know, on the same level."
"Whatever you say," he said. "I'm not gonna argue with you. But Elon is still my better."
I sighed. "Okay, if that's what you think." I got up to leave. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. And good luck with your next match."
As I left, I could've sworn I heard Barit say, "Elon Hughlis is my better. But then again, everyone is."
