I shook my head as I slapped a hand to my forehead. When we got home, the first thing Drev did was ask Nuvian what a telephone was. I left them to their lesson of discussing what it does and how it works. My mom told Drev that he could use the telephone anytime he wanted as long as there were no calls from clients and Nuvian quickly protested why he wasn't allowed to do so.
I went to Eutle with my parents and Drev. Nuvian asked to be left in the house to play video games with his friends that he invited to come over, and he was also left with a thick bundle of money for their foods and whatsoever.
Eutle was two-hour drive from Frolsan. But my parents will only stay at the town centre and as they do their own business there, I will go for a 40-minute hike to the sunflower farm. The meeting point was the store of their customer.
Drev went with me as what my parents asked to "show him around the beautiful places of Keva". He took pictures of me while I pose beside the sunflowers that were much taller than me, I felt claustrophobic standing next to them. The problem was he didn't know how to use the camera so I taught him how but then he didn't know how to find the correct angle so I finally gave up before we ran out of ink. I took a single shot of him anyway, squinting at the sun with his arms tucked beside him and his hoodie askew at the neck.
It was almost three minutes before the picture came out from the sliphole of the camera. Once completely produced, I fanned it to dry the ink and when it was done I showed it to him. Of course, he didn't react, he just looked at it and nodded.
"You shouldn't have moved right away after I took it," I said, handing him the picture. His face and hand - the only skin parts of him that was exposed - were smudged and blur, like an oil painting that was being brushed thin. But his clothing was sharp and well.
He didn't take the photo, he handed it back to me with an unreadable face so I just took it and kept it together with the photos he took of me that were all in wrong angles. If not, were blur and shaky.
First day of school was colored by the rituals of the senior student. The seniors would pour colored powders from the top floor of the main building down the juniors, but I was now a senior so I was assigned to do the color thing. It was sad because it was more fun to be the one who get stained. Sometimes, growing up means not being able to the things you used to.
The juniors cheered loudly for the good luck of the school year as it was believed to take away the bad spirits. Of course it was only a belief but when I was a junior I cheered until no voice came out and all throughout the year my performance in school was excellent. So I cheered with the juniors from the ground as I threw handful of colored powders down on them.
Then on the hallways, the seniors would push their thumb onto the juniors' forehead when they see one, which was distinctive because of their stained shirts. And as a senior, it was your chance to slip confession letters to the person you like with your identity uncovered, it was like taking the risk to see if the person you like would go out with you since it was the last year of Fredran level before we go to Polkanis level and go to different schools which would probably be different from the person you like would go to. Polkanis was when you take classes of your interest that gives you full knowledge of your future career. Unlike Fredran that forces you to take classes that you didn't even care about. Like really, how could Women Lifestyle help me? I was already on my way to my womanhood, there was no need to learn it in school when I could learn it by experience.
It felt good to see everyone smiling on their first day of school. I was influenced by their vibes that I ended up smiling as I walked, imagining I was on a music video with my hair flying in slow motion behind me. Then I would push my inked thumb to junior foreheads and they would groan but laugh at the same time.
"How's your first day, darling?" Dad asked as he preyed on his foods. He talks fast more than the normal Kevan pace of talking and he eats his food loudly, which I secretly hope Drev wouldn't find annoying since it was very much unalike to his own way of eating.
"It's great. It just feels weird to be senior and that now I'm the president of the Green Thumbs," I answered. I didn't mention to him that Ureda Zelski showed his manhood in class "out of boredom".
Dad nodded as he said nice things, then he moved on to Nuvian and asked him about his boat project. But Nuvian didn't answer the question, he just complained how unfair it was that Drev now sits right across Dad and added, "No offense, dude" as he waved at him. Drev smiled in return.
As usual, I was the one who cleaned the dishes but I was surprised when Drev appeared at my side. "Hello," he said with his normal whisper-like voice then settled down on the sink the glass he was holding. "I want to help you, I won't break anything."
I scoffed. "No," I protested. He doesn't know how to do it and I just wanna finish early so I could dive into bed, he would only slow me down. "Why don't you watch Hamster Ville instead?"
"Your parents are watching this guy who is talking about a wildfire in Kak which I find uninteresting and Hamster Ville is only on the afternoons."
Okay, maybe Mierkova is a lot more isolated than it looks like or as I thought.
It took me a moment before I finally let him help me. But it wasn't that bad, he learns fast like the chopping of wood. I mean, washing dishes and chopping of woods were both basic. Sooo basic that you won't need someone to tell you that you were not supposed to eat on plates with unrinsed soap. I was the one who soaped the dishes and rinsed them and I gave the drying part to Drev. He wasn't the one who did the whole thing but at least he now knows the process.
We were on our last plate when he asked, "What are we going to do now?" He put the plate on the rack and hang the towel, then he looked at me waiting for a reply.
I looked away from his green-and-blue eyes, diverting my gaze to the flickering flame of the candle on the table. My parents like to eat with candlelights despite presence of flourescent lights. "You watch TV if you like then I go to my room and sleep," I answered. "I don't know? Just do whatever?"
Surprisingly, he just nodded and did as I said. He sat with my parents at the living room and watched news with them. Drev started asking them questions like a one-year old boy still learning about things that even dumb Nuvian could answer.
How are they inside the TV? Could I be watched by people too? Why do they wear that funny cloth around their neck when they can have the necklace? Do Grassi always sleep early?
And my parents answered, but when they ask of his whereabouts, he does not.
Drev is so weird.
Relis Schalbam was known in school because he played Atruf and was good-looking. Unlike Drev's left blue eye, his eyes were much bluer and almost hypnotizing. I liked his curly brown hair, an obvious mark that he was a foreigner. I liked his voice. I liked his muscular build. I liked everything about him and someday we'll make our own family. That was only a wishful thinking though. Haha, pity me for liking a guy way too out of my league.
There were so many reasons why I loved hunt class. The subject didn't require seats and classroom, we just squat on the ground and it feels like I'm in Cloud 9 everytime Relis and I's knees touch. Of course, I had to make sure I sit next to him without being obvious. That means I always pretend to be late. I run when I go to the back forest of the school (where the hunt class setting was) then secretly eye the spot where he sits and I run to his side and squat like I didn't mean it to be next to him.
Relis leaned to my ear with his head still facing Mr. Lacna. "Late again, ey?" he whispered that sent electric shock from my ear down to the tip of my toes. His voice was husky like he just woke up and sometimes I found myself fantasizing of him moaning my name. Gross and unmodest of me to say that, but no joke. Sure, I wasn't this slutty, blame the teenage hormones.
I pushed the clamp of sweaty hair to my ear as I panted, trying to keep my cool. "My class before this is on East Wing."
He scoffed and went back to the discussion. I could feel his enthusiasm for the class, expected from him because he was from the family of hunters who now owns a meat business. They offered summer classes for hunting, which I wish I could go because he helps in facilitating but my parents won't let me.
Mr. Lacna discussed as he walked left to right and right to left on the green grass with his hands pinned behind him. The class was on the main entrance of the school forest. We were surrounded by the short bushes of rosal. And behind Mr. Lacna, where we face, was the forest. It looked huge that you felt haunted everytime you stare into the depth of it. You could imagine a deadly monster waiting for you to step in.
Last year, we were taught to hunt down bunnies and raccoons but this year we were moving to bigger creatures using more complicated kind of trap.
Mr. Lacna stopped in the middle of the ground, then he cleared his throat. "We might be hunting tadalsi if the permit is accepted."
The whole class gasped including me, except Relis who displayed a big smile. Oh, it's Relis, a big horse with shark teeth who keeps drooling and a kick that would send you flying a yard and kill you won't scare him.
"But if that happens, you will need a permit slip signed by your parents that explains how dangerous the hunting is. It won't affect your grade but you will miss the fun or miss the chance of losing your life." Then Mr. Lacna laughed loud that silenced the class. He cleared his throat, "Kidding."
The thing about my school was if something happened to your kid in the middle of hunting - let's say, your kid died - then that was no more school responsibility. Handle your kid's death by yourselves, dear parents. I thought it was harsh but then oh well, it was Kevan schooling system. Harsh and bold.
It was embarassing to say this but although the students on Fredran level were around 14 to 18 years of age, we have story class. Well, you could imagine. The teacher would tell us story of any types - myth, fable, anecdote, et cetera. I would more on call it literature rather than story class, so childish in the ears.
But it wasn't always story-telling, we were also left with works like being assigned of a story to read and comprehend. What we were left last meeting was to read the book about bresvens. I knew nothing about them since I didn't touch the book and just let it rest on my bed last night. Instead, I wrote on my journal about the unexpected interactions with Relis within the day. Nonetheless, nobody seemed to care for the subject either for none of the class raised his or her hand when Mrs. Felcan asked who read the book.
This infuriated her that she actually threw a book on the floor with all her might, that some of the pages were torned and went flying smoothly in the air and down to the floor. The class fell into silence. "I provided a book for each of you and not even a soul read it!" She yelled, her veins in the neck were showing and I was afraid that any second it would burst. "Mr. Hurar, what did you do last night?"
The question caught Zedec off guard. His face displayed a shock but he got himself together and regained his arrogant confidence that was always with him wherever he went. He was a good player in Atruf (though not as good as Relis) which caused him to be full of himself. He smirked, "Sorry, ma'am. I was in a family party."
His friends snorted, knowing the party he was talking about was the other way around. Mrs. Felcan appeared to believe or pretended to be. She might have realized that it was a waste of time to rant so she went back to her table and flicked through the pages of the brevsen book. She exhaled. "Can someone please pick those up?" She eyed the mess on the floor and waited until the guy in front of the class retrieved all of it and placed it on Mrs. Felcan's table. "Thank you. Now, let's all move on. Get the book and read it silently for--" she glanced at her wristwatch "--within 10 minutes. Start now!"
I wasn't a fan of reading but I managed to force myself to read the 30-page book. It was not that long since around half of it were pictures of brevsen. Drawing illustrations only because brevsens were mythological creatures and didn't truly exist. There were drawings of their sharp fangs, youthful corpse, a brevsen biting onto a human's neck, a brevsen on a pyre calling for help, a brevsen smelling his hostage's hair.
"They look just like a normal person aside from their sharp fang and abnormally pale skin that turns ceramic grey when exposed to fire. They feed on blood, has super speed, and great strength. Senior bresvens have horns. In order to kill one, you must drive a stake into the heart with a w---" The guy beside me stopped reading as he noticed my eyes on him. "What?" He asked.
"Uh, would you mind if you turn the volume a little lower. I'm sorry, only if you don't mind."
He just gave me an irritated look but however I did not hear him again. As I flicked through the pages, I studied the drawings and noticed few writings on the bottom for perhaps to label the illustrations but I wasn't sure what the words meant. But judging the arrangement of the leters, it was Tualian perhaps. There was a sketch of a man, face was hard to see due to the messy linings of the pencil, but it was clear that he was sitting on a throne with a crown on his head. On his shoes was probably a signed name of the artist (Rdui Glescious) but it was hard to tell because the lady carrying a baby that was standing by his side also had another sign on her dress (Rezna Raquien) and so is the baby on its left arm (Deurzciv).
