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Rachel, third year student and
captain of Lawson Girls’ High gymnastics team. A brunette with
unruly, wavy short hair and dental braces, she had a warm, megawatt
smile that could break any form of ice. Maybe cutting an iceberg
wasn’t a tall order for her.
    “Hi gals. It’s great to see all
the fresh new faces. Sorry that you’ve to make your way here by
yourselves.” Rachel went on to explain, “I got some urgent admin
stuff to settle with the guys here.”
    Almost everyone assured her that
it was okay. I didn’t say anything as it was unnecessary to repeat
what others had said, even though I felt the same way as them.
    “Cool. Okay, let’s go. Our
coach, Kenneth, is waiting in the gymnasium.” The senior began to
climb up the sloped road through the main gates.
    Though St. Andrew Institution
could match Lawson Girls’ High in terms of age, its buildings and
facilities were well-maintained and in mint condition. Their
outdoor stadium looked impressive. No wonder our Track and Field
team preferred to go there for practices.
    The gymnasium was equally
impressive. Its floor was lined with bright blue PVC Gym tiles.
Attached to the high ceiling were countless of bright, white lights
that shone like dazzling stars. With exception of the uneven bars,
all the equipment and fixtures required for men’s and women’s
events were available. And they were all amply spaced from each
other.
    A group of boys had gathered
around the pommel horse. One of them was doing a handstand on it
with his hands gripping the handles. The others were either
cheering him on or doing the countdown.
    When we stepped into the place,
most of the boys turned towards us. I took two big steps to hide
among the girls. They wouldn’t notice me even when I walked by
myself, but I hated the feeling of strutting around like some kind
of exhibits for people to scrutinize. In addition, my presence
spoilt the wholesome image of our gymnastics team.
    Rachel waved to them in a
confident manner. Almost all the guys responded to her friendly
gesture.
    There was one in gymnastics
competitive shirt and shorts—the only dude there who dressed like
that. He waved and shouted, “Good afternoon, Metal Teeth!”
    “Same to you, Tissue Muscles!”
Rachel yelled with a wide beam on her face.
    “Mr. Muscles” smiled broadly
before going back to barking commands at the boy on the pommel.
    Noticing that all of us were
staring at her, Rachel informed, “That’s Jareth, the team
captain.”
    Quite a number of girls were
stealing peeks at him. There were flushing faces within our group.
He had an attractive outlook due to his short, tousled, yet stylish
dark brown hair and sharp features. I believed that he was very
proud of his physique, based on the observations that he was the
only one who didn’t wear his school T-shirt.
    Jareth reminded me of those
half-naked men on those embarrassing, somewhat disgusting covers of
romance books. A bunch of narcissist show-offs who thought that
they could conquer the women with their big muscles. The main
differences were that he had leaner muscles, looked smarter, a lot
younger, less lecherous and not as predatory.
    Rachel then revealed, “I call
him ‘Tissue Muscles’ because he’d tore his muscles or tendons on
quite a number of occasions while trying out those difficult
drills.”
    I did feel a bit sorry for him
then.
    “Who’s that tall, blond guy
beside Jareth?” asked Fiona in a hushed voice.
    It was then I noticed the blond
who looked like a prince of the fairy tales … in modern clothes. He
was that type of handsome guy who could take a girl’s breath away.
In fact, the ugly green school T-shirt actually looked like
designer wear when on him. No wonder the first year girl couldn’t
take her eyes off him.
    Rachel threw a glance at the
boys before replying, “Brian. Vice-captain.”
    “He’s so …” Fiona bit her lips
to prevent herself from saying more.
    “Hey, focus on our training, not
on them.