Talents and interests

(Rorim's POV)

"Rorim!" Gillian passed the ball and headed towards me.

I bent, held my breath and prepared my hands, set the ball to Beatrice which she killed flawlessly, catching the opponents off guard. That just made our last point, ahead by five.

"Woooooooh!"

"Nice game! Nice game!"

"Nice set, Ro!" Beatrice waved her hand for a high-five which I happily gave.

"You should consider joining our team." Gillian encouraged, wiping his sweat. "We could use your talent."

Talent? I couldn't possibly tell that the talent they're witnessing came from tossing carcasses and catching decapitated heads. I only knew tossing, and setting in volleyball felt familiar, just cleaner and lighter balls to pass. It was all behind me but muscle memory exists.

I grinned and hoisted my bag to my shoulder. "I'll consider it. If I don't find anything interesting, I'll register my name here." I needed to change my clothes.

"Don't make us wait!" Beatrice shouted teasingly, her back to me as she hopped to the practicing group.

I left the court and walked some more, catching my breath and cooling myself before heading to the changing lockers.

It was Wednesday and Wednesdays were meant for extra-curricular activities. Whether it may be joining orgs or sports teams or clubs, every student should participate in at least one. Interestingly enough, I just found it amusing that schools encourage students to do things like these. Because once they enter the real world, the luxury of indulging in such light, playful endeavors would likely be rare or completely unavailable.

On my way to the locker, I noticed Norman on a bench, a object on his hand. My feet unconsciously darted quietly from behind him, and then stopped mid-track when he turned, catching me.

"I was going to scare you and make you drop your camera." That wasn't a lie.

"I can tell." He smirked and returned to his camera. "You can try and I won't be your friend anymore." Friend? When hav— Oh. Last night. Right.

Sitting next to him, my eyes ogled at the camera. Earlier at first, I assumed that it was the professional one, until I realized up close that it was one that uses film.

"What's that for?"

"How's your hand?"

We froze for a bit and smirked in unison. If he hadn't mentioned my hand, I would have forgotten them completely.

"My hand is healing." I showed it to him and he acknowledged.

"This is for taking pictures."

"I'm sorry that you had to explain the obvious for my stupidity. Must be hard for you."

He beamed at me. "I joined Fotografiya." His tongue emphasized the rough R when he pronounced it.

"I saw their photos on the Student's Board. They really give off nostalgia."

"They really do."

Before I realized, he already snapped a photo of me. In the same flash, my blood rushed and boiled. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I felt mad. Blood boiling, ears ringing, nerve snapping mad.

I escaped then. Truth be told, I didn't understand why. In my head, I could have grabbed his possession right there, just within reach, and dropped it to the ground. I could have stepped on it until each part was impossible to repair, or replace. Or I could have punched the camera to his face repeatedly until his blood painted the whole camera crimson and until the broken shards of the dug on his flesh. But I didn't. And I was madder for not knowing why.

"Rorim!"

I just continued walking.

"Hey, wait!" What does he want?

I turned and forced a smile. "Sorry Felix, I was heading to the changing room. Did you want something?"

"Yeah, sorry, no uhmm," He stood there, shaking his leg. "I was thinking that I could invite you to our club if you haven't had one yet. Are you alright though? You lo—"

"Yeah, no I haven't found one yet. But yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking."

"You sure?"

I nodded twice and smiled again. "What does your club do?"

"Come, I'll show you." And he led the way.

I was welcomed by two well-dressed escorts, one taller than the other, with paper bags over their heads when I entered the room. They wore tailored, properly ironed-tuxedos, the kind that classic butlers in Victorian mansions wore. With their forearms hooked on mine, they felt awkwardly unstable.

My eyes roamed at the white and empty room. The windows on the left allowed the light to touch the floor, the newly waxed white mahogany panels glinting like a spotlight on golden hair. The air was dead, as if the room itself had lungs and stopped breathing. Everything was awkwardly quiet, clean and convincingly welcoming. Except that I knew how and where this was going.

"Hold on. Ha…" I exhaled.

Feigning a stomachache, I pulled my hand from theirs and dropped to the floor. From behind, I heard Felix inching forward, his steps hesitant and calculated. The two escorts back away for a bit, surprised and contemplating, like none of this was part of the plan.

I hitched my breath more, my breathing heavy from time to time and curling to my stomach even more. I groaned and whimpered louder and they finally leaned closer.

In a heartbeat, I stretched my legs and swiped them, kicking the two escorts by their ankles. I regained even before they both fell on their arse to the ground.

"He—"

From the ground, I pounced on the shaken Felix and grabbed his collar.

I leaned to his ear and whispered. "It's a prank." Catching my breath, I stepped back and grinned at them while they groaned and rubbed their backs.

"How?"

The crowd behind Felix entered, each person holding a bucket full of water and coloring and slowly lowered them when they saw the two escorts standing up, hands still on their bums.

"Wha—-"

A clap echoed in the room. It was Felix, with his eyes bright in amusement and his lips beaming ear to ear. Soon, the escorts pulled their paper bags, revealing their faces in a smile.

"She pranked us." The taller one sighed.

I crossed my arms to my chest, eyed Felix and the rest. "So this is your club?" I already had a feeling what it was; I just had to make sure.

His hand went to his elbow and scratched them awkwardly, sheepishly smiling as if to say yes.

"And you prank people." Obviously.

"We prank on behalf of people." One from the crowd, with curly, dyed hair, corrected.

"How does that work?"

"The school formalized this club two years ago. Students come to us and make requests of pranking other students. Sometimes just for fun, sometimes for revenge."

"This club's purpose is to be an ice-breaker for budding relationships, an eye-opener for most people who resort to violence and chaos. We only make sure the student with concern will send their message across."

Interesting…

"How many members do you have? Can anyone just register their names?" I was more curious about why Felix invited me here.

The shorter escort, who was now leaning on the wall, spoke. "No. We choose the people who can join here. A lot of people relay their request to be in the club to our members and we all deliberate. One by one, they will receive an unannounced initiation, a taste of what they're getting themselves in, and if they react 'unexpectedly', they're considered part of the club. They still have to consent to joining formally, of course. It's still their choice in the end."

"I haven't relayed anything to anyone though." I didn't even know there was a club like this to begin with.

Felix raised his hand and pursed his lips. "It was my suggestion. I kind of had a feeling that you would be a good addition to the club. Sorry though. Really."

Good addition huh? "No worries. That was some initiation though."

"Well, technically you did." Felix chuckled which some followed. "How did you know anyway? That's what I've been dying to know."

I sat on the ground, finally feeling pain on my foot that earlier hit their ankles. "Well, first off, you were a bad instigator, looking back so many times. It was obvious that you were anxiously checking on something, you can't even maintain a normal conversation." I turned to the escorts. "And you, two seniors, were both so ready to move away anytime, I knew something was bound to happen. Just a shot in the dark but it seems like you're only trying this now. Not that I mind getting pranked but I felt like it involved splashing or throwing something, seeing that the floor was newly polished, easier to clean. I don't want to spend any more time in the shower and locker room than I had planned to. I don't have any more clothes to—-"

"So cool…"

"How in the world could she have noticed that?"

"Wow just wow! Holy sh—"

I scanned as most of their mouths agape, their eyes wide, their collected blinks. I hadn't realized in a long time that it was rare for someone to notice the littlest things like this after living life so normally. If I needed to use my senses, I was always almost accurate. Unlike their unwavered awe, I felt sick to my stomach, reminded by the life I used to live.

"Anyway," I cleared my throat. "Since you didn't succeed in pranking me, what now?"

They all exchanged confused looks.

The tall senior crossed his arms and turned to Felix. "Well this is the first. I think we should hear your decision then. Would you want to join us?"

I stared at the wall far away and thought. Joining them would be fun but I don't want to be involved with too many people than I have now. Especially when I'm in the process of executing my soonest revenge.

Then I was hit with the most brilliant idea yet.

"I will make my decision after you do something for me. I deserve a free trial." Holding my grin as I boiled in excitement.

The seniors made eye contact, like telepathy, until the tall one nodded. "Alright then. What kind of trial is it?"

When I couldn't contain it any longer, I motioned them to join me on the floor.

——————————-

Kids are impatient. And that included me.

Watching the box from time and time, checking their temperature and keeping them hidden from the other kids had started to become a chore. Sometimes, Norman and I would shift taking breaks, going outside and exposing ourselves to other kids so they wouldn't get suspicious. It was mostly him who took breaks, at my insistence, because even though he didn't tell me, I knew he wanted to go outside more. I wished then that it was already three weeks after, so I could see them break their fragile shells with their tiny beaks.

Between those days, I had felt that Norman and I became closer. Together we would read books and color on blank papers and practice our writing. Those afternoons were filled by our silence and Norman's fidgeting and clumsy hands that bumped the crayon container or spilled water on our papers. I had a feeling then that he wanted to ask things but he stayed quiet and kept the questions to himself. This time when I caught him glance thrice, I decided to humor him.

"Just ask it already."

He gave a short smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Longer than you."

"Like when?"

"Like since I was a baby."

He nodded in understanding. All of us here had experiences and felt struggles differently but we all understood that being here meant that no one wanted us. We're only left to ourselves, to each other, and to the adults that would gladly take us instead.

Odd as I can ever be, I knew how I got here, how I was eased out from my mom's burden, how I saw air escaped her lips entirely, and how my father took me in his arms just to bring me to this shelter's doorstep. Not a look back, not a bid of apologetic farewell.

"How was it like growing up?" He asked as he refilled the water on the small bowl in the nest's box.

I shrugged. "Boring." And he puffed, probably agreeing.

"Did you have any friends?"

I thought and remembered Cleo.

Cleo who was bright and loud and annoying, who I played dolls with in the afternoons and who I used to sleep next to on most nights. Cleo who was like my sister. Cleo was more than a friend, so she didn't really count as one.

I shook my head in affirmation, mostly to myself.

"I should feel lucky then." He crawled to my side and sat in front of me.

I stared at his dark, dirtied knee. "Why?"

"Because I'm your very first friend." He flashed a smile and held out his open palm. "Give me your hand."

Bewildered, I placed my palm on top of his.

"Hold it still." And he pulled out something from his pocket.

A dainty flower wreath appeared in front of me. The few tiny, yellow blooms peeked out from the ring of white, smaller cotton-like flowers. Slowly, I tasted the smell of earth and flowers in my tongue - bitter, tangy and then bland.

"Who made this?" I touched the white ones, amazed that a small, scattered flower like this could do so much when collected.

"I did." He sat up with confidence and I stared at him in awe. He can really do anything.

I stared at it more. "This would make a pretty decoration."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you make this for the eggs?"

Shaking his head aggressively, he laid the wreath on my thigh. "No, that's for you. I made them for you. It was supposed to be a crown but I was only practicing."

Silly? Speechless. Starry-eyed. Surprised. Stupefied! Sublime. Super. Silly. Stupid? Simpleton. I was a stupid, smiling simpleton.

"But why?" Simpleton.

"Why what?"

"Why make this and why give it to me?" Simpleton.

"Well, who else would I give it to? You're my only official friend."

"Why did you make this then?"

He sat back down and folded his knees to his chest. "The older girls were making them and I was curious because it was so pretty. Crowns made of flowers! Isn't it just cool? I wish I made them bigger though, so they could fi— woah!"

I pulled him into a hug, the warmth crippling me in me as I did. I didn't care that the beautiful wreath didn't fit my head, or that he smelled of the burnt of the sun and his back soaked of sweat, or that he made the prettiest flower crowns. It touched my heart to hear him think of me when he made them. It touched my heart to feel special, what more to be treated so by my dearest friend. All I could repay him was my sincere embrace and how I wished it had sufficed.

When we let go, I took a small stem from each flower and tucked it in between his soft ears.

In a page of memories where I collected a list of my favorite things, I added the flowers, and him.

One afternoon while I was taking a break, I overheard some older kids in the corridor, chattering. Those were never of interest to me until I heard Norman's name and I felt my ear twitch in curiosity.

"Shh.. don't make a sound, they'll hear you."

"What are we even hiding from?"

"Someone came in the office with Ms. Hiper and I saw who. I recognised the guy somewhere, I just forgot when."

"So what? People come here and go, who cares."

"No one comes back to check though, that's the difference. Besides, no one comes here in a limousine except for that one time."

"Who?"

"If I remember correctly, it was when Norman got here."

"Oh.."

"I bet his folks are crazy rich."

"Why would they give him up if they're rich then?"

"That's what we're here for. Maybe they want to take him back."

"That's never happened."

"Exactly, that's what I wanna know."

"Good for him if they do take him back."

I sat there in the playroom when I eavesdropped on them. For a long time, I wanted to ask Norman about himself too. And apart from what these two older kids were gossipping, I wanted to know how he was before he got here. What his life was, what his parents were, what happened. But we were only getting close and the last time I did that, I lost a sister. I didn't want to lose Norman this time.

So I kept them, all the questions, to myself.