"Fortunately for you," Mitsui is saying as he spins the ball on one finger, "I thought quickly on my feet and distracted that nerdy student assistant, or we'd both be in serious trouble right now."
"You? Quick-thinking?" I snort. "I told you to distract that guy after you were frozen on the spot, going, 'Oh shit, Allison! Someone's here! How?'" I pat his back with exaggerated sympathy and understanding. "If it weren't for me, you would be in the principal's office now."
He swats my hand away and scowls. "You would be, too, so stop talking like you're all that, okay?"
"Actually, I wouldn't be. I'd deny that I know you and you'd -- "
I'm rudely interrupted by Mitsui's noisy dribbling, and he's now pretending not to hear a word I'm saying. God, he's so infuriating.
"You're so infuriating," I tell him as he attempts a three-pointer. No good; the ball bounces out of the rim.
"Kuso," Mitsui says. "My form wasn't right. All thanks to your yammering."
"My what?" I protest indignantly as I watch Mitsui execute yet another three-pointer. This time, the ball sails comfortably into the net with a soft swish.
Mitsui Hisashi, sharp and accurate as ever.
He turns to face me with an ironic upward twitch of a corner of his mouth.
"That's why they call me the MVP."
And still as cocky and arrogant as ever.
I roll my eyes and don't bother with a reply. It doesn't matter anyway, because he's already turned his attention back to basketball.
"The balance in mid-air after a light jump..." Mitsui flips the ball towards himself with the fingertips, his eyes fixed on the hoop.
"The awesome feeling of my fingers against the surface of the ball..." He holds the ball in front of him.
"The power in my wrist..." His feet leave the ground and he shoots, his right hand propelling the ball forward like a catapult.
It's a basket.
"Somehow, I just know that the shot is successful after the ball leaves my hand. I never doubt it. I just... know. It's an instinctive knowledge, hard to explain."
It has been two years since I last saw him. But those two years have not erased any of the memories I have of him. Those memories are largely made up of images of his aiming, recollections of the sound of his perfect shots, flashes of the way he controlled the ball so that it always sailed right into the net.
As I watch him now many of those memories come rushing back. The first time I saw him making a goal in the park; his explanatory three-pointer in the gym; all of his matches that I've seen; and not forgetting, most importantly, all the feelings that come along with the package.
Mitsui Hisashi has always been a one-of-a-kind type of person. He's definitely an exceptional cager; any newcomer to the sport would agree if they had the chance to see him in action. He shoots effortlessly, even when his stamina is about to betray him, because he's done those shots, those movements, so many times that they have already infiltrated into his bloodstream.
Even if his stamina forgets, the rest of his body remembers. And his accuracy?
It's something called 'talent'.
I made a hasty exit immediately after the phone call from hell with Michiko. Fuming mad although I knew I didn't really have the right to, I stomped out of the school building and waited at the bus stop alone. It was a few minutes after six and it was getting dark. Hopefully, I'd get out of this in one piece.
Twenty minutes passed. Still no sign of the damn bus. Sighing, I took out a book -- The Catcher in the Rye -- and started reading. I was laughing silently at how Holden Caufield called everybody phonies when I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder.
"Argh!" I yelled, convinced that I was being attacked by a rapist. "Get away from me!"
"Um, relax," said the 'rapist'. His voice sounded familiar. "It's just me. Mitsui."
Mitsui. The realisation began to dawn on me. I blushed in embarrassment.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't know it was you. I thought I was going to be raped."
He laughed. "Don't be stupid. Nobody would rape a girl in broad daylight."
"What do you mean, broad daylight?" I retorted. "It's getting dark."
"No, it's still pretty early. Trust me, I've lived here my whole life."
"Oh." I didn't know what to say to that. In fact, I didn't know what to say anymore. An uncomfortable silence descended upon our small talk, and I noted that he was still standing.
"Why don't you sit down?" I blurted out. Thank you, self, for filling up the silence, I congratulated myself silently.
He sat. We were next to each other, but seated far apart, as if any contact would ultimately be disastrous. I didn't know whether to be offended or thankful.
"So what happened with your friend?" he asked, probably because there wasn't much to say.
"Yelled at me," I answered. "She was mad."
"Over something so trivial?" He was frowning.
I smiled to myself. Mitsui dear, you don't know half of it. In fact, you don't even know a quarter of it. It goes so much more than just blowing off a friend.
I shrugged and pretended to be baffled myself. I wasn't about to tell Mitsui about Michiko's perpetual crush on him. "I guess people are strange."
"Tell me about it," he snorted. "Take our resident Ice King, for example. Such a block of ice, and so many girls are crazy over him. I just don't get it."
"Well, it's obviously because he's cute," I replied, rolling my eyes. "He has great looks and he doesn't talk, so girls tend to think it's mysterious. And he plays great basketball."
Mitsui snorted again. "Great basketball," he muttered. "Great looks. So what?"
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He had that same annoyed look I caught sight of back in the gym, when Rukawa made that beautiful slam dunk. Now seemed like the right time to ask.
"Are you actually jealous of him?"
"No!" he protested, a little too quickly. "Why would I be jealous of him? I play as well as he does. No, wait, I play better than him. And I'm better-looking than him. There's nothing to do jealous of."
I chuckled to myself. "So why the sour face when he made that slam dunk?"
He didn't answer, and simply sat beside me, glaring at nobody.
Just then, the bus arrived. It screeched to a halt at the stop, catching my attention.
I stood up. "Bus is here, I gotta go."
To my surprise, he stood up too. "Taking the same bus." Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he added, "Why else do you think I came here for?"
Without waiting for a reply, he sauntered up the bus. I followed behind, thankful that he didn't expect an answer. Because I had genuinely thought that he went to the bus stop to talk to me. I guess I was wrong.
"30%?"
"No."
"25%?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"20%...?"
I grinned. "Nope."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you telling me...that you obtained a zero on one of your tests?"
Still grinning, I nodded. "Yep."
"And that's like, the lowest you've ever got? Ever?"
"Well, obviously," I said. "You can't get lower than zero, can you?"
"Oh. Right. And I thought I was a lousy student."
"It was just this one test, this one stupid topic that nobody understood. It doesn't mean I'm a bad student. I do ace some subjects, you know. I mean you probably fail everything, right?"
Mitsui glowered at me. "No, I don't. I do pass some subjects."
"Like what?"
He thought for a while. "Um, well, P.E...."
I started laughing. Really laughing. A few passengers turned to stare at me, but that didn't quell my laughter. Talk about pathetic! Failing everything but P.E.? It's not even a proper subject!
"It's not even a proper subject!" I said between laughter. "You don't need to study for it, all you need to do is follow the teacher's instructions."
"Allison? I know we just met and all and I shouldn't say this," Mitsui began, seemingly ignoring my comments. "But can you, possibly, shut up?"
"Aww somebody's angry," I teased. "I'm so scared!"
"Haha, very funny," he muttered. "When are you going to get off the stupid bus?"
"If you're that averse to my company, why don't you just sit elsewhere?"
It was in jest, all in jest. There was no way I could've known that Mitsui would really stand up, step over my legs, and find himself another seat.
He turned back and threw me a smirk. "You asked for it."
I spent the rest of the journey staring at the back of his head, until he called out a 'see you tomorrow' and got off the bus at his stop.
Mitsui Hisashi was on my mind all the time after that. I finally understood Michiko's crush.
"He likes you, doesn't he!"
Those were the very words that greeted me when I stepped into my temporary home.
"And you like him too, don't you!"
Not to mention Michiko's angry, flustered face.
All the feel-good vibes I'd got during my bus ride with Mitsui immediately flew out of the window. I glance around the house for signs of Michiko's parents, but I see none.
"Where are your parents?"
Her eyes widened. "My parents? You have the audacity to ask about my parents? Who cares about my goddamn parents? Tell me what the hell you were doing at basketball practice and why Mitsui invited you!"
I stepped past her and headed for my bedroom. I sensed her following me, sensed her frustration and bitterness, but I ignored it.
"I won't tell you anything as long as you keep yelling at me," I said with feigned calmness. All I wanted, really, was to hurl things at Michiko and ask her to shut her trap and go to hell. But I couldn't. It wasn't my house.
I turned to face her and look her squarely in the eye. "You need to calm down. But in the meantime, if you want to jump to conclusions, be my bloody guest."
With that, I slammed the door in her face.
I was pissed. No, wait. I was beyond pissed. I thought I didn't have the right to be, but I'd changed my mind. I'd always known that Michiko was a bit of a spoilt brat, but never would I have fathomed that she was spoilt to this extreme. It was crazy. It was so unreasonable. Why hadn't I known about her deadly character flaw? I was so going to suffer for the rest of my stay.
Suddenly, there was loud banging on my door.
"Open the door!" It was, of course, Michiko. She was screeching like a slaughtered chicken. "Dammit Allison, open the door!"
That was it. I had enough. I picked up the nearest object - an encyclopedia - and hurled it at the door.
"Fuck off!"
The encyclopedia clattered loudly to the floor, where it laid carelessly, forced open to a particular page. When I retrieved it, the cover fell off in my hand.
I didn't tell them anything except the obvious, that we had a fight. I didn't tell them what it was about. I especially didn't tell them that it was over Mitsui Hisashi.
That night, I had trouble falling asleep, even though all I wanted was to deliver myself to Dreamland and forget that day ever happened. But my mind refused to cooperate; it replayed the ugly events of the night over and over, like a music video put on heavy rotation on MTV.
Her words kept coming back to me: "He likes you, doesn't he! And you like him too, don't you!"
They were just wild accusations. Words she hurled at me during the heat of the moment, due to her blind jealousy. They didn't mean a thing.
Still, I couldn't help wondering: Do I really like him... ?
If so, why am I such an idiot?
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There you go. Hopefully the formatting's not to screwed up when I post it.
Shari: Nah, it's okay. I don't really mind either way. Ha, glad you like this piece of shit though. Thanks.
Yuriko: Yah I know! Sucks that we're Sars-infected and everything. Ah well. Heh, true, he WOULD try to escape and play basketball. That's what he did when he had that knee injury, besides. Haha. Thanks for the review.
Yingxue: I lurve your name so I'll just call you Yingxue. Can? (Your name IS Yingxue right? Gomen, someone going senile here.) Anyway, I'm actually seventeen this year. My birthday haven't come yet you see. In JJC. Crappy school but better than St. Nicholas. Haha. You're in secondary school right? Which school if you don't mind telling me? And regarding the self-insert thing... yah I know I damn BHB lah but the OC here's kinda based on myself. The first few chaps are actually based on this really strong movie I had in my head while trying to read my Chemistry/Biology textbooks in preparation for the O Levels. Bwahahahaha. So yah it's kind of a self-insert. Which is why this fic really sucks. Okay, you're his best friend. No prob. Just don't steal my lover from me can already. Bwahaha - um, yes. =)
akira-akisame: Aww I'm touched. Thanks for the review, really appreciate it. This crappy fic was the first one I posted actually. I'm kind of out of ideas so yeah. It's going to really suck. Trust me.
moomoo/yanling: Michiko's Japanese. Allison is staying with her family 'cos she's an exchange student from Singapore. I had a Japanese exchange student in my class once, just last year actually. She couldn't really speak English. Damn fair though, that girl. Anyway I stay in Bt. Batok. You leh?
I seriously think this fic's going NOWHERE. Sorry for wasting everyone's time but I won't give up on this. I REFUSE. Yep. Have fun.
-Yelen