(03) Gym Class

'Hey, Jack! Jack!' someone was calling out to him.

Jack sighed and turned around.

'You!' he said disgustedly, looking at the boy with obvious disgust.

'My name is not "you",' the other replied indignantly. 'It's Ray. Get it right, mate.'

'Fine, Ray,' Jack said, 'how the hell do you know my name?'

'There's only one boy in the school with a reputation like yours.'

'I see . . .' Jack muttered. 'Listen, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I can't really talk right now. I've got a gym class to get to.' He briskly walked away.

'Wait, I just . . . Wait, Jack . . . It's about Ralph!'

The last word made Jack stop in mid-step.

'What about him?' The former asked, turning around to face Ray.

'I was just wondering if you've seen him.'

'I have no idea where he is,' Jack replied. 'Nor do I care.' He continued on his way.

'You should,' Ray suddenly said, and the other teen stopped again. Ray took the advantage to step closer to Jack and placed a leather wallet in his hand. 'If you see him, just give this to him, will you?'

'I'm not going to help you buy him,' Jack responded sourly, trying to push the wallet back into Ray's hand.

'This is his!' Ray exclaimed earnestly. 'He left it in the caf. Just return it to him, okay?'

Jack rolled his eyes.

'Fine. Whatever. I've got to go.' He hurriedly stuffed the wallet into his bag before running the rest of the way to Change Room C. Jack hastily changed into his gym uniform (comprised of shorts and a t-shirt with the school logo on it). Then he bolted out of the room and into Gym B. He was late again, and Mr. Penting would certainly not be pleased. He would be lucky if he could escape without equipment duty for a week.

'You're late, Mr. Merridew,' Mr. Penting said predictably, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

'But I didn't miss anything, sir,' Jack murmured. He glanced pointedly at the other boys, who were merely sitting about, watching the spectacle between he and Mr. Penting.

'You missed stretches,' the gym teacher replied, as if he was purposefully trying to find fault. 'You know why they're important, do you not?'

'Yes, sir,' Jack replied dully.

'Good. Then you can write me a 500-word essay on the importance of stretching before gym class,' he said. 'You will hand it in tomorrow.'

The teen groaned inwardly. Great, he had detention and he had to write an essay by tomorrow! Personally, he'd prefer the week of equipment duty, but he knew better than to say so. He'd probably end up getting both.

'Yes, sir,' Jack muttered, not really looking forward to the apparently sleepless night ahead of him.

Mr. Penting gave him a horrible smile before turning his attention to the class as a whole.

'Okay, as I have mentioned yesterday, class, we will be doing wrestling today. We will start with the basics first, so I want all of you to find a partner. Quickly now, come on.'

Jack avoided Terry's questioning gaze and automatically paired himself off with Lee. Having his head busted open by the big bloke was somewhat less than amusing.

'Now, everyone, find some space on those mats at the edges of the gym. Mind you don't trip. Aha!' He laughed at his pathetic attempt at a joke, and a few boys gave him weak smiles as they spread about the room.

'Does everyone have a partner?'

Someone inched closer to the teacher tentatively.

'I don't have a partner, sir,' the boy said.

'You don't? Does anyone else not have a partner?' Mr. Penting asked loudly.

'I don't, sir,' Terry said sheepishly. It wasn't exactly a wonder to anyone why he didn't have a partner. As mentioned earlier, the only thing Terry prided himself on was his muscle, which he seemed to have an excessive degree of. The other boys didn't want to go near him, especially since today's lovely activity was wrestling!

'Very good, Terry. You can partner with . . . What's your name, son?' he asked the boy.

'Ralph, sir, Ralph Macpherson.'

Having been listening to the brief exchange between the boy and the teacher, Jack felt a cold shudder run though him at that name.

'Ralph?' Lee hissed into his hear. 'Isn't that the name of the kid you're supposed to be—?'

'Yes!' Jack cut him off.

'Aw, tough break, dude. If you partnered with him, it would probably have improved your chances. Then again, I would have ended up with Ter then, so I guess this option was preferable. I mean, just look at . . .'

Jack just let Lee ramble on; his gaze was fixed on the broad-shouldered teen standing next to Terry. Ralph was rather attractive, in a way, but Jack didn't see what Ray saw in him. True, his eyes were amazing, his body fit . . . but . . .

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" scolded his conscience. "This is Ralph you're thinking about! Stop it!"

Mr. Penting had begun talking again in his would-be enthusiastic voice, but only a few people were actually listening.

'And speaking of which, how long do you get?' Lee asked suddenly.

'What?' Jack questioned, completely at sea. He had forgotten that his friend was still talking.

'The kid,' Lee responded, indicating Ralph by cocking his head to one side. 'How long did that other guy give you to get Ralph?'

'A week. The usual,' Jack replied dully.

'A week . . . You know, we never finalized our bet,' Lee said, as if he had only just realized it. 'Mr. Lyori interrupted before we could work out the little details. Okay, you said that you get ten bucks if you win. Now, what should I get if I win?' Lee contemplated the matter in his head, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Jack shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, knowing the other teen was trying to think up the worst punishment possible to get Jack back for all the other times he'd lost.

'I've got it!' Lee exclaimed gleefully.

Jack groaned miserably. It had to be real bad if Lee sounded so happy about it.

'Okay, if I win,' the other teen said, 'you have to wear a pink showercap, a bathrobe, and fluffy purple slippers and ask Mr. Lyori where his mother is because you have a date with her.'

Jack was on the verge of asking, "That's it" before he realized Lee could make this shit a whole lot worse if he wanted to.

"Hmm . . . a pink showercap, a bathrobe, and slippers . . . and ask Lyori where his mother is . . . Well, that's not so bad. I'll just be a laughing stock for the rest of my school career and probably get a month's worth of detentions. Maybe even get suspended or expelled for disrespect to teachers. Then again, none of that will matter, because my mum will probably bury me alive for doing something so stupid and ruining my future . . ."

'And what if I don't?' Jack challenged, raising his chin defiantly.

Lee grinned.

'I was hoping you'd say that. Well, you'd lose your reputation, for one. I wonder how you'll cope if you lost all your fuckers . . . say, forever!' The teen smirked. 'We all know that you can't last two weeks without someone to fuck.'

Jack paled, for he knew that to be true.

'Do we have a deal, old buddy?' Lee asked him maliciously, holding out his hand.

'Only if I can change my prize, too,' Jack said. 'It's not fair if I have to do all that shit and you just have to give me ten bucks.'

'Fine. What do you want? Anything except the thing I just said. Think up your own fucking idea.'

Jack inwardly cursed, for he had been planning to make Lee do just that.

'I want your big screen TV,' he said.

'Wha? NO!'

Jack smiled smugly.

'Then change your stakes.'

Lee glared at Jack evilly before he finally replied, 'Fine. You'll get my TV. It's a deal.' He shook Jack's hand.

'Are you talking over there, Mr. Jacobs? Mr. Merridew?' Mr. Penting asked them loudly, a cruel smile darkening his features. 'You both have equipment duty for the remainder of this week. You must remain after class to put the mats away after everyone has left, and you must arrive early tomorrow morning to set them up for my first period class.'

'Yes, sir,' the two teens mumbled.

Jack was sure he heard Ralph snicker softly. A surge of hatred flowed through him. This was the worst day he'd had in years! Before Ralph had come back into his life (that very morning), he had been the big shot of the school. Guys were practically throwing themselves at him, and the teachers were just able to tolerate him enough not to give him excessive punishments.

Jack had been so stressed out from Ralph's very presence, and that stress made him act in reckless manners. Now he had equipment duty and a detention because Mr. Lyori had caught him punching John. (He had never punched John before, no matter how high-strung he was! And there was only one thing—or rather, person—he could blame that on.) Not only that, but he had to write an essay for Mr. Penting because he had been late for gym class . . . because he was talking to Ray about Ralph!

"Oh, what a jolly day this is turning out to be."

-

Downright miserable and sullen from the day's ill-favoured events, Jack dragged his feet down the corridor to serve his detention. His rather heavy bag was slung uncomfortably over his back, and he felt like he was going to tip over at any given moment. He had had so much homework, and since he had detention, it would be difficult for him to find the time to finish it. (Mr. Leeaway never allowed the students to do homework during their detentions, feeling that it served them right to find their own time after the detention to do it. He and Mr. Lyori were in the same league when it came to torturing the students.)

John trailed jadedly behind him, muttering something about having to miss the newest episode of "Star Trek" because of the stupid detention, and also something about losing his valuable studying time.

Jack felt a great urge to tell him to shut up, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, it had been him who had got them there in the first place, and he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for it.

Maintaining their silence (except for an occasional murmur from John), the two boys sauntered down the hallway to the Detention Hall. It was not a surprise to them to see that all the desks in the class were already taken; a few people stood irritably at the back of the room. It looked as if Mr. Lyori had been living up to his reputation of excessive detention-giving.

Jack sighed as he and John made their way to the back of the class to join the other boys standing there.

'Hey, Jack,' his friend, Peter, greeted him quietly. 'What are you in for this time?' (He made it sound like they were in prison.) 'Were you making out in the dark room again?'

Jack frowned.

'No. I punched John,' he replied, nudging the small-statured boy beside him. 'It was just a . . . misunderstanding. That's all.'

'Right.'

'What are you here for?'

'Throwing a book across the room,' Peter shrugged. 'I don't know why Lyori made such a big deal out of it. I mean, no one got hurt. Just Jason, but no one really likes him anyway.'

Speaking of whom . . .

Mr. Lyori suddenly charged into the room, dragging a moody-looking Jason behind him. He tossed his suitcase onto the desk and practically threw Jason to the back of the class, where the teen went to stand nervously with the others.

'Settle down, people!' the teacher ordered, and the soft murmuring sweeping about the room almost disappeared. Almost. 'Mr. Leeaway was too busy to supervise you all today, so I was asked to step in,' he said, disgruntled.

'That explains Lyori's presence, but why is Jason in here?' Jack asked Peter from the corner of his mouth.

Peter grinned.

'He lost his temper with me and threw the book back.' He sighed in mock sympathy. 'The poor soul's aim is so bad that it hit Lyori instead.'

Jack turned his amused laughter into a hacking cough, having noticed for the first time the large bruise over Mr. Lyori's right eye.

'No talking, Mr. Merridew!' Mr. Lyori snapped.

'But I wasn't, sir!' Jack protested loudly. 'I was coughing!'

'Detention! You will return here tomorrow.'

'But why, sir?'

'You have just earned yourself another detention, Mr. Merridew! And if one more word comes out of your mouth, it will be a week's worth of detentions for you.'

Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot and angrily crossed his arms over his chest. But he said nothing. It was clear that the damned English teacher was in a bad mood, but he didn't have to take it out on Jack. That was so unfair!

'Sucks to be you,' Peter mouthed, winking at Jack.

'Did you say something, Mr. Jones?'

Peter silently shook his head.

'Good. Then best keep it that way.' Mr. Lyori sat down in his chair and leaned back to survey the students scrupulously. His keen senses detected every movement done, every breath exhaled, every word spoken . . .

'You now have a detention tomorrow, Mr. Wong, and be glad it isn't more.'

Michael Wong, another of Jack's friends (ahem . . . "friends", hint hint), glared at the teacher and looked as if he was going to retort, but he wisely said nothing and silently accepted the punishment.

The seconds slowly dwindled by. Each minute seemed to take hours to pass. The hours appeared to be unlimited.

It became clear after a while that the boys standing at the back were getting restless. They leaned against the wall, shifted more often, crouched or sat down on the hard, cold floor . . . Jack's legs were aching fiercely, but he did not do as his fellows did. He would not give Mr. Lyori the satisfaction of knowing Jack was in pained misery.

A small beep sounded from somewhere, and all the students looked hopefully up at Mr. Lyori.

'It has been three hours,' the teacher said. 'You may go.'

Full of relief, the boys grabbed their belongings and made beelines for the door. Many of them would be returning tomorrow for another detention, for Mr. Lyori had given out no less than thirty more detentions for stupid things like "breathing too loudly" or "twiddling thumbs too fast".

Dreading his doubtless encounter with his mother, Jack picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder casually. There was nothing awaiting him at home except a definitely drunken father (who was hopelessly unconscious by now) and a lurid mother (who probably had an hour's worth of lectures for him). Plus he had that essay he had to do for Mr. Penting, plus the usual pile of homework from his classes . . .

After a hasty "bye" to John and Peter, Jack bolted out the door and—

CRASH!

Books and papers went flying, and Jack was thrown off of his feet.

"AGAIN! Of all the fucking ner—!" His mentality stopped in mid-curse when he realized who it was.

'Oh, hello, Ralph,' he greeted the other boy casually, as if they weren't sprawled in the midst of rubble and had just happened to come across each other in a quaint café of some sort.

'Hello,' Ralph replied, unsteadily getting to his feet. 'What are you doing here?'

'I had a detention,' Jack responded. 'What about you?'

'Oh, my teachers wanted me to stay around for a bit. You know, to catch up on the shit I've missed.' He cleared his throat nervously. 'Well, if you'll excuse me, I must really be heading home now. I'll be late for supper.' He frantically gathered his fallen belongings and headed for the door, where the last student from Mr. Lyori's detention had departed from but seconds before.

'We used to be friends, Ralph!' Jack called out to him.

To an outsider, it would merely have sounded like a random exclamation. But to Ralph, the words had actual meaning. His pale hand paused on the handle of the door, but he did not turn around to face the other boy. The latter picked up his bag and slowly made his way towards the hesitating teen.

'You remember, don't you?' Jack inquired softly. 'When we first arrived on the island . . . We used to joke together, laugh together, we used to have fun!' He sighed dramatically, again saying, 'We used to be friends.' He allowed his hand to drift seductively along Ralph's cheek.

The other determinedly avoided his gaze, even when Jack lightly urged Ralph's face to the side with his hand.

'So what are we now? Enemies?'

"Yes, it's working!" Jack cheered inwardly, watching the conflicting emotions pass across Ralph's face. "He's starting to forget why he's supposed to hate me. Yes! I might actually win this bet with that fucking Ray guy."

Jack kept his expression stony when he questioned, 'What changed between us, Ralph?'

The last question seemed to spur the other into action.

'What changed between us?' Ralph spat, furiously slapping Jack's hand away and succeeding in dropping his books again. 'You ask what changed between us! I'll tell you what changed between us, Jack Merridew!' He prodded his finger painfully into his companion's chest; his books lay forgotten on the ground. 'You said we used to be friends. Okay, I'll agree with that. We used to. But then you plotted against me to become leader, when you know full well that they voted for me fair and square!'

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Ralph cut him off.

'Not only that, but you killed two of the few friends I had on that fucking island! Two people that actually remained loyal to me after all the hard shit I had to put them through for us to survive!'

'Wait a minute, I—'

'You persuaded some of the best guys to go to your side just so you can go hunting! Hunting! Didn't you want to be rescued? Didn't you want to go home?'

'Well, yeah, but it seemed fucking imposs—'

'Oh, what else changed between us?' Ralph asked in mock curiosity. 'You tried to fucking kill me, Jack! I know I'm supposed to forgive people for their mistakes, but this . . .' He shook his head resolutely. 'I can't ever, ever forgive you for that, so don't make the mistake of considering me your friend' Teeth clenched in an almost pained fury, Ralph reclaimed his pile of books once more and stormed out the door.

Jack watched him go, having failed miserably. That was his foremost desperate attempt to remind Ralph how things used to stand between them, how much fun they used to have together on the island. Mistake! He had mentally forgot to include that little detail about him trying to kill Ralph.

What the fuck was he going to do now then? He had to win that bet!