Pencils & Polaroids

50: pencil walls

(the final points table before the birds went rogue ↑)

. . .

When Collin said the loss of fifty points won't matter to the rest of us, I thought he'd give it back tossing two baby questions to Rainer. I didn't know that he meant it wouldn't affect the team because there wouldn't be a team anymore. 

Yeah, shocker. And I didn't take it well. 

The competition became individual. Rainer was assigned five papers to finish in one day, earning back only forty-two points. Everything changed the next morning. There were no teams anymore. Just individual players all fighting for the same position and some of us (majorly myself) had a great advantage because of our points. 

Rainer got back 42/50 points but guess who wasn't benefitted from it—Archer Weston. Because the birds went rogue before the points got credited. This only meant Stella Dcruz won Raven Captaincy and it seemed like a well-thought strategy by the Skippers. 

I've always loved being on the top. But as much as I wanted to celebrate my victory, I noticed Rainer, Sadie, or Sam weren't particularly thrilled by it. They tried to look supportive but the breaking of the teams revealed so many tension knots on each of their faces, I couldn't overlook them despite how badly I wanted to. 

Every oral question became a debate. Every task was like the hunger games round. By the end of the day, the majority of the players looked depressed. The remaining others had either probably given up or didn't understand the shift of criticality yet. And I, who was far from depressed because I was clearly on top all the time, didn't like how everyone was slowly starting to dislike me again. Everyone, being the three people who I had grown unknowingly close to. 

"Take your clothes off, we need to talk," is what I said when I entered his room tonight. 

We were a lot calmer and better functioning once the first part of that sentence was fully carried out. So calm that we forgot what we really needed to address and switched to helping each other study. We know what the other person sucks at and coincidently, that very subject is what we ourselves love studying. He hates chemistry, which I absolutely love. And I hate Maths, which he's simply a genius at. In between all that flashcard studying, we indulge in playing our very own arm wrestling wrapped inside white sheets. 

Rainer puts on a black v-neck shirt that contrasts his light grey pants before plopping back on the bed and taking my awaiting hand. 

"That's already unfair. Now you're fully dressed and I'm--"

"--Wrapped in that sheet like a burrito." 

When I gesture to my bare hands and upper chest that is so unwrapped, he rolls his eyes. 

"Do you want me to win or should I lose?" He asks, grinning, as he positions our locked hands on a plain sturdy surface on the bed. 

"Play like a man, Bark." 

He coos. "Worst choice of words, Mellon." 

Laughing, he does the countdown this time. Once I hear go, I apply full force in the offense. His face relaxes watching how our hands don't budge one bit and he hasn't even tried half of what he did on that field two days ago. When fair means don't get me anywhere, I deflect. 

I intensify my gaze right into his green ones. His overconfident smile falters and I use that as his so-called loophole and lean towards his face. As planned, his eyes drop to my mouth before they rise back up to my eyes. He's shocked when he sees me initiating the kiss for the very first time.