Chapter VI

There was a sort of tense atmosphere building up in the school like a pressure cooker as the exams drew nearer. All the pupils, Year 1 through Year 6, wore the same glum expression. No one spoke.

Or even if they did, it was to show their apprehension for the mid-year examination.

“I’m gonna flunk Biology this time, I just know it…”

“Yup, I was never good at Science.”

“I just hope I don’t get a single digit for History.”

… And the complaints never ended…

In every corner of the school, you could spot hordes of older students spending every minute of their break studying. Scribbling notes, working on worksheets and mock exam papers.

The younger ones discussed Science concepts and History facts and Literature books and foreign terms.

Emma, Isabel and I no longer joked and played pranks on each other. Instead, we sat together solemnly, poring over the notes we had taken down earlier this semester. I was getting irritable, due to the three and a half hours of sleep I was getting every night.

Isabel muttered a rare swear and shoved her notebook towards me.

“I can never seem to remember a single fact!” she snapped, sighing audibly. “Test me, Ariel.”

“Okay,” I agreed readily, sliding my books onto my lap. “Name the two ways desalination can be carried out.”

“Decanting… and reversed… reversed osmosis?” she frowned in mock concentration.

“Nope,” I corrected patiently. “Distillation and reversed osmosis. Next question. What does the rate of radiation depend on?”

“Temperature…” she mumbled. “And… Nature of the surface of the hot body.”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact,” I gave her a confident smile. “Next. How do you calculate the volume of a sphere?”

“4/3 pi radius squared? Oops… wait… 4/3 pi radius cube,” she gasped nearly breathlessly, looking at me expectantly.

“Brilliant!” I encouraged. “We shall proceed to the next question...”

“Well, I guess that should be enough,” Isabel reached over for her notebook and made a face that was sour enough to can pickles.

I glanced over my shoulder at Emma, who looked as if she was the most stressed out among the three of us. She entered a lengthy equation into her calculator, squinted into its scratched LCD panel and scrawled some numbers in her assessment book.

“Good riddance!” she exclaimed, ticking off the agenda on her checklist and checking the time.

“I wish my parents wouldn’t push me so hard. I feel like my mind is a rubber band stretched so far it’s gonna snap.”

Emma pretended to stretch an imaginary rubber band and then, let her hands fall limply to her sides.

She turned to me briefly, “You’re so lucky… Your parents don’t pressurize you at all. Just because I topped my primary school doesn’t mean I must top my high school!”

I sighed and sent a box of fresh mints skidding across the table in Emma’s direction.
*****

The two weeks of examinations passed quickly and now we were filled with a new anxiety for our results, which would be out shortly.

Gerard, who had vanished from my mind during the exam weeks, filled all my thoughts once more. The other day, not so long ago, he waved a friendly goodbye to me as I boarded the bus.

His friends whooped and teased us, but Gerard remained exceptionally cool, his eyes fixed on me even when the bus pulled away. I didn’t think that I minded the teasing, after all…

Now, I was torn apart by my feelings for him and my conscience. I was longing to wait for him at the bus-stop and see his face light up with a boyish smile. However, each time, I always left silently, against my will…

I made up my mind.

That late afternoon, as I headed for the bus-stop, I told myself silently, that if Gerard liked me, he would be at the bus-stop.

I looked up, only to meet disappointment. My heart sank. The bus-stop was empty and the only sound that could be heard was the cicadas’ chirp…

I bravely fought my tears back and pushed my disappointment deep down inside me, where it would never resurface again. You gotta stop liking Gerard, I tried to counsel myself, but I knew I could not help falling in love with him.

My feelings for Gerard were real --- very, very real.
*****

That night, I was reclining on the sofa, watching a documentary. The pen I was spinning idly dropped to the floor with a loud ‘clank’, when my handphone’s message alert beeped.

The message was from a foreign number but my heart raced against my chest when I saw its contents.

‘Hi Ariel… You must be wondering who I am… I’m Gerard and Emma gave me your number. LOL!’

Leaning back on the sofa, I read and re-read the message several times. I was in a dilemma whether or not to reply Gerard… I scratched at a small tear on the leather cover.

Having made a decision, I replied Gerard, taking extra care to choose my words… His reply came in less than two minutes when my handphone beeped noisily.

It did not seem like that many, but Gerard and I sent more than forty messages to each other that night… And he ended off the SMSing session with a ‘Goodnight, sweet dreams!’

I re-read all his messages before I fell asleep, still clutching my handphone tightly.
*****

A broad grin crept up on Emma’s face, showing the lovely dimples on her rosy cheeks as I narrated the SMSing session between Gerard and I.

“He didn’t know your name at first… But he wanted your number!” she tried to speak with a straight face. “I know you like him, don’t you?”

I shushed her immediately.

“Ariel’s blushing!” Isabel teased me playfully.

“No, I’m not!” I nearly yelled, but I was laughing as well.
*****

The results were released and I had done exceptionally well. I was third in the level!

Dad was very pleased as he signed my report book with a flourish. For months afterward, I could still see his smile and hear his deep voice telling me to keep up the good work.

As usual, Emma had topped our class and level and Isabel was within the top twenty of our class.

Everyone had done well!
*****

Vacation started and I was literally inseparable from my Sony Ericsson K700i. Gerard and I could send up to sixty messages to each other throughout the day.

After about a week, both of us were talking on the phone for hours late into the night.

I learnt more about his background and was slightly disappointed and upset that he was not exactly my type but continued with the long telephone conversations and SMSing frenzies.

Gerard was in one of the average classes in Year 2. He had done fairly well this time but he did not get into Seinfield High by works of merit. His father, a wealthy businessman, donated ten thousand dollars to the school to get his son in.

Gerard had an older brother who was in the same school. Besides that, Gerard could not play any musical instrument, unlike me and he was a gaming fanatic.

We had very few common topics.

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed talking to him… Night after night… And my dad did not know the reason behind the escalating phone bills.

One particular night, the subject of crushes came up. Gerard had just broken up with his girlfriend because of a painful relationship.

I lent a listening ear as he rattled on about how he could not forget his feelings for the girl. Now she was asking for reconciliation and he was wavering…

He finished his sad tale with the conclusion that his percentage for his ex-girlfriend was very low and that he liked someone else currently.

It was my turn to talk and I was stumped. My previous relationship was two years ago! In fact, it couldn’t be called a relationship. It was merely an exchange of love letters.

The guy and I broke up simply because we had lost interest in each other. Ever since, I had been afraid to go into another one. I had this irrational fear of rejection.

Gerard asked me if I had any crushes. I told his the answer was ‘yes’ without a moment’s hesitation, although I insisted it was not important for him to know who it was.

He fell silent for a long while and then asked so quietly that my flesh crept, “Does he like you?”

“I don’t know…” I answered, melancholy in my voice. “You know, it’s very likely that he likes someone else.”

“Hmm… quite true,” Gerard murmured, “I’ve been thinking, anyway, that I’m in no mood to like anyone now…”

“Really? Why?” I was curious.

“I’ve been really sad after the break-up. And I don’t know if I did the right thing, eh?” Gerard’s voice quivered a little. I could tell that he once loved his girlfriend very, very much.

“Heh. But what’s done is done,” I told him in a matter-of-factly voice. “I’ve been thinking too. I should stop liking who I like.”

“Why is that so?” his voice drifted over from the other end of the line. “Everything is done for a reason."

“He’s taken,” I stated.

“He’s taken?” Gerard sounded a little suspicious.

“Not really,” I was getting more confused by the second. “Could we please stop talking about this? I haven’t really sorted out my feelings yet. Please, I don’t wish to talk about him.”

My voice must have taken on a desperate, pleading edge. Gerard must have sensed it as well, so he agreed.

This conversation left me thinking about my feelings for Gerard for many days…