Hello Folks!
I apologize for the delay! I had major issues with my computer resulting in me temporarily losing ALL my data! This chapter once again is for my dear (hoffe du magst mich immernoch, auch wenn ich warscheinlich doch nicht kommen kann *liebguck*)
xxx
I looked like a total idiot in my school uniform. A total, utter idiot. I hadn't realised the extent of the damage until I saw my reflection in my bedroom mirror. I had been occupied with slightly different matters in the bathroom, thank you very much (-naked creeper-)! So yea, apart from the fact that I looked like "a total, utter idiot", I also looked like one of those oh-so-sweet choir boys. Eww.
I spend about five minutes grossing myself out in front of the mirror until I decided to go down to breakfast to have some tea. Down in the eating hall I was greeted by that unfriendly staff person again who gave me a 10 page booklet full of rules. I couldn't be bothered to read through all of them, so I stopped about halfway. To summarize some of the most ridiculous ones:
Students are to be on their floor at 9 pm. Also, Students are to be in their beds at 10 pm with the lights turned off. Whoever does not follow these rules will be punished.
Going to bed at 10pm! Seriously? I'm not a baby any more. Even eleven year olds get to stay up later. And what's that supposed to mean: They will be punished! Was this some weirdass S/M fellowship? Were they going to spank us or what?
Students must wear their uniform at all times, apart from weekends and after dinner.
Yea, because there is so much point in taking it off for a couple of hours before going to bed. Oh how kind they were to give us that amazingly long window of opportunity.
Students are to be present at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Failure to follow these requirements results in punishment and a letter to the parents or legal guardian.
Well my legal guardian, my grandfather, was in jail. I don't think he'd give a shit if skipped breakfast. He'd probably be happy to receive any mail at all. And if they'd send it to Social Services or my father, I personally couldn't care less.
Students are not allowed to go to the bathroom in the first and last 20 minutes of class.
That's against the human rights! Prohibiting someone to pee is considered physical torture.
Students are not to perform any sadistic rituals involving animal abuse on school grounds.
I don't even want to know what happened, to force them to include that in the rulebook.
'Hey, who do you think you are? Noob!'
I looked up. In front of me stood the dude who had just called me a 'Noob', whatever that meant. He had his arms crossed and stared down at me with one of those I'm-so-superior-hail-me looks.
I chose not to answer him and continued reading my rulebook.
'Heh, hey, hey you noob. Don't you ignore me. Nobody ignores Sergio McBrannon! Sergio McBrannon is so tough, when he does push ups, he doesn't push himself up, he pushes the world down.'
Oh wow, so he could make Chuck Norris jokes with his own name, like that made him cool…
How pathetic. I continued to ignore him and pretended to read the rulebook, while I was actually carefully listening to the conversation McBrannon had with his mates. It might not have been a conversation that stood out for its intelligent subject matter, but it was entertaining nonetheless.
'Hey, Sergio, what if he doesn't understand English?' one of the amazingly tough Sergio McBrannon's friends suggested.
'Oh yea shit. That would suck. We'd need to find someone who speaks his language and make him play translator.'
'Guys, don't make fools of yourselves. If he doesn't understand English, we'll drag him away using good-old-universal man power.'
Time to make myself known:
'Good luck with that.' I commented with a cynical undertone in my voice.
This resulted in utter surprise and shock expressed by McBrannon's gang.
'So you do speak English, Oh well in that case, piss off you noob!' the amazingly tough Sergio McBrennan himself hissed.
What the hell did 'noob' mean? I really wanted to know. I suppose that's reasonable after being called one three times.
'I'm not going to move.'
Wannabe Chuck Norris crossed his arms.
'Oh yes you are, this is the Seniors Table, only seniors are allowed to sit here, you noob. And don't you tell me you are one.'
'I'm not, but I'm still not going to move!' I countered.
'Oh if I were you, new kid, I wouldn't take on Sergio McBrannon. Sergio McBrennan is so tough, he doesn't wear superman pyjamas, Superman wears Sergio McBrannon pyjamas.'
Oh here he went on with his Chuck Norris jokes again. Very creative.
'So what are you going to do? Roundhouse kick me?'
Realising, that I was onto him shut him up for a while. Not for very long time though, unfortunately.
'Oh who do you think you are? Get off our table.'
Hn, at least I don't think I'm bloody Chuck Norris!
I was about to hit back with a really badass reply when I felt someone grab my arm and drag me away.
'Wyatt, what the hell was that all about?' I hissed to my attacker.
'Seriously Kai, don't take on the seniors! Sergio and his buds are all in the school's Rugby team.'
'What, you think I'm scared off a little beating. I'm no chicken.'
He nodded. 'I'm sure you're not, but I don't think you're a fan of public humiliation either.'
I had to confess he was correct on that one. The seniors would've probably all ganged up against me, meaning even though I'm actually tough (unlike Wannabe Chuck Norris), I probably wouldn't stand a chance. I sighed. This school was such a pain in the ass.
Talking about a pain in the ass, Wyatt started to introduce me to all the people at his table, who were pretty much the same guys from last night. I hadn't bothered starting up a conversation with them the night before and I couldn't be bothered to do it today either.
First he pointed at this guy with the disgusting habit of spreading Tupperware mashed potatoes on bread.
'So this is Bram from the Netherlands, whenever you need somebody to set you up with some porn, he's the man.'
Excuse me, what?
Wyatt now pointed at the Dude next to Bram, acting as if he hadn't just introduced his friend as a total pervert, although, it didn't exactly seem as though Bram minded his description. He was simply sitting there, eating his gross sandwich.
"Stampot." he said.
I couldn't tell if he had insulted me or given me an explanation of what he was eating.
'This is Cody from England, he's …'
Ah, Cody the bastard who pulled that pathetic attempt of pranking me that morning. I decided to keep him in mind. Same with that Swiss guy.
'…Lothar from Austria… bla, bla, bla…, Pavel from Russia…'
Did Wyatt even realise that I wasn't listening? I doubted it.
'…yea, that's all of the guys on our floor.'
Amazing, truly amazing. Almost as amazing as Sergio McBrannon's toughness (I bet, that whenever the boggy man goes to bed, he checks his closet for Sergio McBrannon – dammit he was rubbing off on me).
'Where are you from?' One of the guys I had just been introduced to asked.
I couldn't remember his name or nationality, even though I had been told only a couple of minutes earlier (shows how incredibly much I cared about these people, doesn't it?). I was about to say Japan but then I remembered the tooth-paste story. The two guys from earlier had proven to me that they would actually go through with this kind of kindergarten business, so I didn't want to take any risks.
'Russia.'
'Oh, that's cool. So we can have conversations in our language.' this other (apparently Russian) guy said enthusiastically.
So for about one minute I had a really engaging da/nyet-conversation in Russian:
'You're from Russia.'
-'Da.' (what an idiot, I had told him already)
'I'm from St Petersburg. Are you from that area too?'
-'Nyet.'
'Are you from Moscow?'
-'Da.'
'Moscow's really cool.'
-'Da.'
'Have you ever gone clubbing there?'
-'Nyet.'
'Yea, me neither, I've tried to but it's really hard to get in without an ID.'
-'Da.'
Wow, this dude was pathetic.
Finally he decided to give up on our intense conversation, allowing me to turn my attention back to the rulebook. However, I could only read one line when I once again got interrupted. This time it was by the unfriendly staff guy who handed me my timetable. I found out I had a double free period that morning. Good. I wasn't exactly in the mood to fully engage myself in school life yet. Plus I needed to buy a toothbrush. So at seven fifty I stood at the office counter, ready to 'sign out' (as the school required me to do according to the rulebook). However, I hadn't included the 'random idiocracy'-factor in my plan. The guy at the counter refused to let me leave since I was only fifteen and alone.
'You need to be accompanied by at least one person that is over sixteen. Or else you cannot leave the school premises.'
-'I need to buy a toothbrush.'
'You still cannot leave.'
-'Am I supposed to let my teeth rot or what?'
'You need to organize yourself to get a toothbrush, but you cannot leave the school premises.'
-'How else am I supposed to 'organize myself' one. It's a toothbrush; I can't just fix myself a toothbrush with some dealer!'
'You cannot leave the school premises, those are the rules.'
I was about to start a loud-screaming fit and call that pathetic excuse for a teacher a bunch of R-rated, obscene insults (that most likely would get me expelled) when somebody entered the office behind me.
It was that Wyatt guy again (I swear he's stalking me).
'Oh hi, Kai. Nice to meet you here.'
'Hi.' I grumbled, reminding myself to stay somewhat polite so that I wouldn't have to brush my teeth with piss in the future, that was, if I would've even been given the chance to brush them at all since SOMEONE didn't let me leave the school premises.
'Hello, I'd like to sign out.' Wyatt told the staff guy.
'Yes sure.' the dude replied (in a friendly tone this time) and handed him a notebook, in which Wyatt signed his name and the time. He was about to leave when I called out for him.
'Hey, wait a sec, you're sixteen?'
He nodded. 'Seventeen to be exact.'
I smirked. 'Perfect. I'm coming with you.'
I quickly signed my name in the notebook (the staff guy was seriously pissed but he couldn't say anything against it) and then rushed out of the room with Wyatt.
The poor guy was absolutely stunned but at the same time overly happy to see me approach him like that and actually volunteer to spend time with him.
'Don't flatter yourself. I'm actually using you.' I informed him.
He giggled. 'I was suspecting that. You're fifteen, right?'
I nodded.
'Yea, I remember being only fifteen, it was hell, you have almost no rights. But it's even worse to only be fourteen, than you can only leave in the company of a staff or teacher. And believe me, finding a teacher or staff, who voluntarily goes into town with a bunch of kids is not exactly easy.'
That would have been shit. Even primary school kids have more rights than that. I doubt that I would stick to those rules. I think I would go nuts if I'd have to stay in here locked up at school.
'When are you turning sixteen?' he asked me.
'Two weeks.'
'Ah.'
He did little to disguise his disappointment.
We had exited the school gates and were now walking along the road. Freedom, at last! I hadn't been here for 24 hours and still it felt like an eternity.
Having gotten outside also had an effect on my companion as he started to cram something out of his pocket, which turned out to be a pack of cigarettes. To be honest, I really didn't see that coming! Him smoking? Not what I had expected from a little stalker rich kid.
'You want a fag?' he offered, holding the pack in my direction.
'No, I don't smoke.'
He laughed.
'Let's see how long it will take you to start. The average here is about one month. Personally, I cracked after two.'
'I won't start ever. It's unhealthy and stupid.'
He lit his cig, inhaled, and then blew out some smoke. After that process, he was still smiling at me, even though I had insulted him just then.
'It's another one of those basic rules of boarding schools. Everyone smokes.'
'Well, I won't.'
He shrugged and took another drag.
'It probably will be way easier for you since you don't have Detlef for a roommate. He was the reason I started. He would always smoke in our room so at some stage I just gave in so that the smell would be more bearable. I'm not addicted or anything like that. I don't have a very addictive personality. I can stop whenever I feel like it. Like when I'm with my family on a holiday I can stop for weeks without getting nervous about it. The only reason I do smoke is because I enjoy it.'
Oh yea, how often had I heard that one before. Not addicted. Well in the end they all were. There wasn't even was a point in smoking in the first place. I decided to not dive into the topic any further, no point in me lecturing him about the dangers of smoking. Not like he hadn't heard it before.
We continued to walk alongside the street for a few minutes. We didn't really talk at all, which I usually didn't mind but this was somewhat of an awkward silence. I was just grumbling in my thoughts and he put on one cigarette after another, blowing the fumes in every direction. I could understand him getting frustrated by the smell of it (I certainly was at the moment, and we were walking outside), wanting to do something about it to make it more bearable, but personally I would hate smelling like that myself.
Why was I even thinking about that? Why did I even care about him? He was just some annoying, little brat who didn't seem to leave me alone. Okay, I had to be fair, this time I had approached him, and the part in the shower room wasn't really his fault either, but apart from that, he had quite stalker-ish qualities. But on the other hand, why did I hate him so much? He hadn't done anything bad and been quite welcoming and friendly to me so far. Maybe I should try to at least get on speaking-terms with him, it wouldn't hurt to have an ally in these rows when his friends would try to pull another prank on me.
'Where are you from, actually?' I asked him. I knew he had been burning to tell me that for a while. 'You're English right.'
He smiled and shook his head. 'You're half-right.'
Oh, now he was playing guessing-game with me. Great!
'Austrian?'
I had rejected the idea of him being German a while ago. During breakfast he had been speaking in that same gay accent as Lothar and Detlef.
Surprisingly, my guess was received more dramatically than I had expected.'
'No, no, no! Don't call anyone non-Austrian from the Alpine countries Austrian. Ever.'
Ahm, okay… It had seemed to me as if he got along with the Austrian guy just fine during breakfast but maybe not…
Suddenly he gave me a wide grin. 'Don't start thinking I'm predjudiced or something like that. It's just a thing between all us Alpine Countries. The Austrian's always win in Ski jumping, you know. Like on Saturday. The Austrian guy jumped 140 meters! He beat the 2nd man by 5 meters. And guess what, the second man was Austrian as well. I can't believe it! This might sound a bit intense to you, but for us from the Alpine countries, ski jumping is like sex.'
That was a very creative and slightly disturbing comparison, but it didn't help me narrow down his origin.
If he wasn't German, or Swiss, or Austrian, what the hell was he?
'The other half of my genepool is from Liechtenstein.' he revealed, smiling proudly.
Liechtenstein. Liechtenstein the tax haven, sure, I had heard but I had never actually met anyone from it. I didn't have a clue about the lifestyle, society or even where in the Alps it was located. All I knew that apparently ski jumping was like sex to them.
'It's a microstate located in the mountains between Austria and Switzerland. I don't blame you if you don't know it. It's tiny. And we only have like, 37 000 citizens.'
'37 000?' I repeated doubting. 'This town here probably has more than that.'
He laughed. 'My father's University had more than that.'
Living in a microstate must've been a completely different experience to Japan. I imagined that everything would be way more personalised, not sure if I'd like that though. Anonymity was a good thing in my opinion. However, it must be called tax haven for a reason. With everyone being rich, I could imagine everything being way more luxurious than here.
'How is it to live there?' I asked him.
'Compared to Japan you mean? Very, very different. But it gets a bit boring if you live there for long periods of time. At least that's my opinion. I tend to go to Switzerland for some action. Right now, my family even has a house there. In Nyon, that's in la Swisse Romande, the French part. I spend most of my time there.'
How humble.
Always giving way too much information...
'So you speak French?' I asked, to keep the conversation going.
'Not fluently, but enough to find my way. My English is way better. My Dad's from England. I used to live in Brighton.'
Brighton, hmm, that certainly explained some things. According to this travel special on Britain I had watched, that was England's gay capital.
'Heh, I know what you're thinking.' he claimed.
'Really?' I returned mockingly.
'Oh yes, Brighton, the homoerotic tourist attraction. That's the first thing people say whenever I tell them. There must have been some strange travel special that aired in Japan. The guys at school already call me the 'Brighton Ho'.'
'Ho?'
'You know, like 'whore'.' he explained while blushing once again.
'Why would they call you that?'
He turned redder and redder, obviously he had accidentally revealed a subject, he would have preferred to keep quiet about.
'You don't need to tell me.' I stated. I did not actually want to hear about his love life.
He ruffled his hand through his hair and sighed. 'Argh, You probably think really bad of me now. I'm such an idiot for bringing it up. It's just some embarrassing story I want to erase from my mind forever.'
'Whatever, then don't tell me. Simple as that.'
xxx
We continued on walking along the road with not much of a conversation going on, apart from an occasional 'It looks cloudy; I hope it's not going to rain'. Soon we reached some sort of panorama platform, from which there were stairs leading down to the local village. The stairs were old, wooden and moldy. They were steep and went on for at least 500 meters. The rain from the day before had made them quite slippery. It was certainly only a matter of time before an accident would occur.
I have to confess, I am a bit of a nature person. Not one of those that you see on TV, dressed in cotton, smoking weed, protesting for animal rights while singing hippie songs. I simply enjoy lying in the wet summer grass for hours, with the entire busy world rushing by. Others might need drugs, meditation or music of some sort but for me the grass fulfilled the purpose (not that kind of grass, you stoners!). I have to say, even though it was in the middle of nowhere, the school did have a nice location. It was surrounded by forest. The nearest village was only a 10 minute walk away. The village in itself was very calm as well. Very small too. And very cliché. Like those villages you see in old movies with the sunken rice fields and farm houses everywhere. It only had a gas station, bakery and a convenience store.
'Normally I go to Kamo, which is quite a popular skiing resort a bit higher up from school. it's about twenty minutes away, by foot, but I didn't want to get lost again.'
Again? It sounded like there was a story behind that but I didn't feel like hearing about it.
'No, this is fine.'
'Also, if you take the bus, you can get to Bakuten in like, five minutes. Which is a big town, for this area at least.'
'This is fine. I don't feel like going to Bakuten anyways.'
He nodded. 'Oh true, you used to live there.'
'How do you know?'
'Wikipedia.'
Hah! I knew it! So he had been learning my page by heart!
Well, he was a stalker so what else was there to expect. I couldn't believe that he had said it, just like that, as if it were a completely normal thing to do.
'You're my biggest idol, it's real cool to finally meet you in person.' he ensured me.
I wasn't really sure what to reply. I never actually dealt with fans. Takao loves it, he's such an attention whore. Personally, I prefer to stay out of all that business.
'It was so amazing when you first won the championship. This random kid, coming out of nowhere and still beating those that were like three years older and had legacies and sponsors and PR-contracts and what not. And then, after you won, you disappeared again and no one heard from you until the next championship. That, I find, made you a real professional. You only came for the sport, not for the bullshit and publicity. You had more spirit and passion than all those posers put together.'
That was quite a speech. Sure, it made me feel good, compliments always do, but this speech actually had some sense and reason to it. Usually I would only hear fans going 'I love you.' or 'You're the coolest blader of them all.' but none of them actually gave an explanation for why they thought that of me ('You're hot!' doesn't count, I'm an athlete, not a pop star). Maybe there was more to Wyatt than I had given him credit for.
I figured that he expected me to say something, but I wasn't quite sure what I should reply so I went with the simplest option:
'Um, thank you.'
I'm not a great talker, really. Either way, it satisfied him. He responded with a big grin.
'There to please!'
Suddenly he fell into a total laughing fit. It was loud, intense and really scary.
'Are you okay?' I asked carefully.
He continued to laugh for another minute and then gasped: 'Oh my, did you realize how bloody perverted that sounded. There to please!.'
Remember the part where I called Wyatt reasonable and sensible?
If yes, just forget what I said, for I was oh-so wrong.
To keep this strange conversation from going on any further I pointed my arm towards the convenience store, signalling that I would head there. He nodded and assured me that he would follow as soon as he finished his cigarette (he had been smoking non-stop for the entire time we had been walking. He was the worst chain smoker I had ever encountered.).
It didn't take me long to find what I needed in the shop. It was literally a convenience store, meaning it only held those things that you'd need to be remotely convenient, meaning: Milk, toiletries, snacks, cigarettes, alcohol, a tent (strangely), light bulbs and most important of all, an amazingly large collection of pornography (spread across the entire back wall). Those sappy old Perverts!
I laid my stuff out on the counter and had to ring a bell for the owner to appear in the first place (He doesn't seem to worry about shop lifters at all does he? Unless of course he would have secret cameras installed and in his boredom wouldn't do anything but watch the security tapes of his empty store all day. Although, he did seem like the type that would watch anything, as long as it was displayed on a monitor.).
'Is that all you want?' he asked in broken English.
I nodded.
'Cigarettes?' he then suggested, even though I had already told him that I had all I needed. What's with people here in general, why are they all so keen on getting me to start smoking?
'I'm underage.' I informed him.
As an answer I received an ugly, mocking laugh and another question. 'You're new right?'
This time it was up to Wyatt to interrupt, he leaned against the countertop and told the shop owner: 'Yep, fresh meat, came in yesterday! Doesn't smoke. But I take a pack of Marlboro Greens, please.'
Fresh meat?
What the hell!
The shop owner handed Wyatt his pack of menthol cigarettes and then added, chuckling: 'I give him a month, maximum!'
Wyatt shook his head.
'Nuh, he said he won't smoke and I believe him on that one.'
Why does everyone react so shocked when I tell them that I don't smoke and am not interested in trying it either. Maybe Wyatt was right, when he said that truly everyone at school does it. Either way, I was not going to engage in that gross I'm-not-addicted-I-can-stop-any-time habit. No thanks, I had different plans for my future. Like for example being 80 with a coronary, waving the bird at those smokers in the heart transplant line. Oh how I was looking forward to that moment. Ultimate payback for them polluting my air! Those bastards!
xxx
We rushed back uphill after having left the store. Well, actually, it was me rushing; Wyatt was chatting on.
At least he wasn't smoking anymore. So nice to breathe some actual air instead of that nasty tobacco.
We reached the school with half an hour to spare, however I quickly waved good bye so that I wouldn't have to stay behind and have something like a conversation with him. I instead fled to my room and laid down on my bed. Okay, so that wasn't that bad, at least I got a toothbrush out of this. And the kid wasn't that awful, he wasn't quite as obnoxious as Takao (Don't get me wrong, I do like that fellow, he's somewhat like my best friend, although I'd rather die than admit that to him. But he is obnoxious, that's a fact!).
Gosh, I wish I were at home right now, then I wouldn't need to worry about being social and whatnot. I could simply stick to my own business with no commitment to anyone or anything. And that's the way I liked it. I'm not an interactive sort of guy. I like to rely on myself and no one else. Constant social encounters suffocate me. It was bad enough on the trip with my team. I need my personal space from time to time, and there is no evil intention behind that, it is the way I am, simple as that.
xxx
Basic Boarding School Fact 3: Being late for breakfast makes you a major criminal!
Basic Boarding School Fact 4: 90% of the people smoke (seriously!)
xxx
I live in the Netherlands now and I've never seen so many types of spread or sandwich toppings. From cauliflower-pea spread to chocolate sprinkles. I'm having a fun time trying them all. My British friend came up with the idea of selling stampot sandwiches, combining two things that we observed the Dutch love: mashed potatoes and bread. So call out to you Dutch people out there, what do you think, should she drop out of school and go for this business venture? :D