Chapter 25
Serve, Set and Spike
EGPS is a school of tradition, and its tradition is a lot more intricate and set in stone than Amelia Middle’s. One notable example is the triennial Sports Day, titled Urja ’22 for this year. Selections for the sports matches had started a few days ago, not to mention rehearsals for the class-wise dance performance that’ll be a part of the event. Ruchi isn’t really thrilled with 8C’s choice in the latter.
”Bhangra. Really? Bleh,” she says in the basketball court during lunch.
I chuckle. “Ruchi, you’re from Punjab. Don’t Punjabis love bhangra?”
“I do, and it’s fun, but what’s the point if our class is so lousy at it? It’s supposed to be energetic, full of josh, y’know? And…” she sighs. “We just look like a group of half-zombified slugs.”
“It coulda been worse,” I say. “8B’s doing bharatanatyam, and it’s tough. Have you heard how much they’re complaining?”
“I agree,” Aravind says, joining us. “Also, I was just talking to Siddharth, the music club’s president. He’s saying that the auditions for the inter-house battle-of-bands selections have started, and that members of the Underdogs will be performing with the seniors of their respective houses.”
“That’s awesome!” I say, high-fiving Ruchi. We’re both in Earth, and my riffs and Ruchi’s beats with our fellow Earthbenders will destroy. Too bad it’s against other houses; Aravind’s in Fire, and the rivalry between Earth and Fire is well-known and tense. That’s another part of tradition.
The speakers crackle to life, and we turn to the stage. The sports captain, Anvita Vellore, is making an announcement.
“This is for the Earth and Fire students of grades 6-8: The inter-house volleyball selections will be taking place during the lunch break tomorrow.”
I perk up. Back in Amelia Middle, I was a part of the school volleyball team, and we used to win tournaments and stuff. I have a whole lineup of medals and one MVP trophy from my last game resting in our display almirah.
I turn to Ruchi. “Will you come too?” I’ve taught her how to play already.
She shakes her head and smiles apologetically. “Sorry, dude, I have lots of other work to do. Speaking of which, I better head back to class. Shalini Ma’am told me to decorate the bulletin boards in class.”
As Ruchi walks away, I turn to Aravind.
He glances at me. “I already know what you’re going to ask.”
“Dude, I’ll be so lonely there. Please?” I give him the most pleading puppy-dog eyes I can muster.
He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll come… but I’m only watching. Just for you.”
I smile, and I even blush. Can’t help it.
The next day, I race across the ground, and prop my lunchbag against the pole supporting the volleyball net. The boys’ selections are well underway; girls’ selections weren’t conducted because all the players were on the school team.
I walk over to Kushagra Samra, the Earth house captain.
“Jay! Glad to see you on the court. Alphonse Sir told me you were a player in your old school, right”
I nod, as he leans in and whispers, “Some of these kids—as much of dunderheads as they are eager—they don’t really know the basics. Care to give them a demonstration?” he says.
“Sure!”
He tosses me a ball, and signals to the rest of the kids to watch me.
“Okay, so let’s start with serves. There are two ways. The first is an underarm serve, which is what most beginners use.” I shift the ball to my left hand and position it below my waist. I raise it up once, twice, then let it fly and hit it with the underside of my wrist. The ball soars and goes smoothly over the net.
I turn back to the middle schoolers watching me. “Super easy, right? Well, now you’ve got another type: overhead.”
This time, I toss the ball in the air and raise my arm up high. The ball connects with my palm—the sweet spot—and sends it to the other side.
“And if you’ve got the guts to try this…” I grab another ball and jog back behind the court line. I throw the ball high and away, then run a few steps, leap and bam! I slap the ball, and it’s flying through the air. The students clap. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aravind drop his lunchbag and… wait, is he going to the Fire selection group?
Both captains, Kushagra and Fire’s Karthik Sengupta, conduct the trials. I’m already a team player, so I help the students along. I watch Aravind walk up to the ball when it’s his turn to serve. Everyone goes quiet. Nobody expected this.
Suddenly, Aravind tosses the ball high in the air and smacks it over the net, executing a perfect arc to the other half.
My jaw drops.
“Holy crap!” a kid says behind me. Everyone’s in awe. The ‘nerd’ who played chess and carrom during PE suddenly happens to possess mad volleyball skills.
Karthik walks over to Aravind, shakes his hand, and takes his name down in his almanac. “Carrying on the legacy. You’ve got Gagan’s talent.”
Aravind glances at me and smiles. My heart leaps, and I grin back. I almost always forget the way how he suddenly amazes me, and then it creeps up on me and leaves me standing in wonder—a feeling I wish I can replay every single time.
Chapter 26
Skips A Beat
Aravind and I are in Caldera’s apartment ground, the volleyball net finally set up, with a few balls nearby. Seeing his game talent made me think about helping him train. Ruchi agreed it was a good idea—and it’s also an opportunity to spend some one-on-one time together.
For the past fifteen minutes, Aravind tries to serve underarm, and every time, the ball just flops away lazily, or goes way out of court. It never clears the net. I don’t think I’ve seen him this frustrated.
“Why is it that the easiest serve is so difficult to do?” He asks me.
I shrug. “Guess you’re the unconventional type.”
He tries again, and it still doesn’t work.
“Here, let me show you again.” I grab a ball and stand next to him. “Are you lefty or righty?”
“Righty.”
“Then keep the ball in your left hand like this, and then swing your right hand—“ I watch him. “Oh, wait, I know where you’re going wrong.” I step behind him and place a hand under his elbow. “You’re supposed to swing straight, not sideways,” I say into his ear.
I can’t believe how close I am to Aravind. I can hear the change in my breathing—and his—it’s quicker, yet more measured. Almost like he’s aware that I’m aware. Blood flows into my cheeks, warming them.
Still holding his elbow, I move his arm up and down, gently guiding him the direction. “There.” I let go, and he tries it on his own.
Aravind turns his head slightly and meets my eyes, for confirmation. Our faces are just inches away. My heart skips a beat. Two beats.
“Yeah, you’re getting it.” I nod. I want to stand here forever, but I reluctantly step back to see his serve. He gently tosses the ball, and, exactly like I showed him, thwap! It’s up and over, just skimming the surface of the net.
“Sur-vice!” I cry. “That’s like the best kind of serve—it catches the opponent off guard. You keep this up, we could be winning tourneys faster than you can say tourneys!”
He laughs. “I’ll remember this for the rest of my life.”
Now I go quiet. Is he referring to the serve or… whatever happened before that? But the way he’s smiling at me, it makes me feel like it’s the latter. My stomach somersaults.
“You’re gonna help Fire win,” I say. “Too bad I’ll have to play against you.”
He shrugs. “It could be fun. Sad, but fun.”
I slap the ball in my hand as I head to the other side. “Alright. Let’s do a rally.” And we pass the ball back and forth, as the sun sets, casting an orange glow behind the clouds.
Chapter 27
The Bus
Every year, we take a ‘field trip’ to one of our sister schools, Greenfield International School of Bangalore, or GISB. It’s usually a chance to explore the place, try out all of its sports facilities (including a huge Olympic-style track field and a swimming pool) or eat its cafeteria food, which might probably be loads better than Amelia’s lunch. But the year we have Sports Day, the inter-house races and class dance rehearsals are the main priority. Despite my classmates’ groans, I can say it’s definitely better than studying, not to mention today’s my first time going there.
“It’s boooring. We’ve all been there five times! EGPS does not give any good field trips,” Ruchi groans, when we get to the school ground. Both of us are wearing our house shirts with track pants and sports shoes. I’m wearing my ‘This Is The Way’ Mandalorian hoodie that Trace gave me on my birthday, while Ruchi’s sporting an embroidered denim jacket.
“They’re improving. The ninth-graders went to a resort in July,” I counter.
“Yeah, and they got food poisoning, high fever, and a few even contracted COVID-19. So we still don’t have better options,” she huffs.
I tap my bag. “Don’t worry. I’ve got snacks, a deck of UNO, and maybe even a volleyball stashed around somewhere. Deflated, of course. I also have a pump. For the volleyball.”
She crosses her arms. “Jay, every time you talk about volleyball, you’re skipping over your words and nothing’s clear.”
My heart races when I think of the underarm practice with Aravind—and Ruchi knows. “Remember I told you about the whole… thing? Yeah, that’s always on my mind now.”
“Dude, he’s your best friend. So don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t let that distraction get in the way of your game, wouldja?”
“Well, maybe the distraction is because of the game.” I heft my bag over my shoulders, and spot Aravind getting out of K3. I wave to him, and he runs over to join us.
“Good luck,” he says to Ruchi. She’s been selected for the 400-meter relay semifinals. “You’ll crush it.”
She grimaces. “I hope not. It’s a miracle I’m even selected—I usually suck at track and field—but I can’t run on that day. Not after doing bhangra with all my energy and making up for my lazy classmates.”
Aravind and I laugh. “We’re trying our best, you know,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Tell that to Jyothi Ma’am when we don’t get extra PE periods.”
We line up in roll call order with the rest of our class to board the buses. As soon as attendance’s done, I run to join Ruchi near the front. Aravind comes a few minutes later.
“Thank goodness,” she says. “Appu’s given me a new book to read, but I’m not spending my time alone, and definitely not with them.” Behind her, she gives Ojaswi and her friends the stink-eye.
We get into K5 with an entire class of seventh graders, and Ruchi, Aravind and I take the second seats. I dump my bag below, and they keep theirs up.
Ruchi looks around. “It’s already pretty darn full.”
“Too late for that,” I say, and point to the doors.
Ojaswi and her little group of girlfriends have already boarded.
Chapter 28
21 Dares
Three sit in the seat in front of us. Two sit across, on the other side of the aisle. Ojaswi turns around from front to face us.
“Oh, nice company,” she says silkily.
Ruchi gives them a smile, which turns into a grimace. “I could say the same,” she says, her voice strained.
The bus rumbles under our feet and starts to move, and Ojaswi faces front. Aravind and I exhale, relieved. Unlike what I planned, we don’t play UNO or dabble in Antakshari. Ruchi pulls out the book she brought, The Remarkable Journey of Coyote Sunrise. She props it open as Aravind and I look over her shoulder to read. I know three people sharing a novel has its own problems, but anything’s better than listening to Ojaswi being ‘friendly’.
She turns back around again. “Now, come on. You can’t all be this quiet. What happened to being overly rambunctious?”
We stare at her, then go back to the book.
One of her friends, Divya, rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s do something fun for once. Like we used to.”
Ruchi snorts. “The heck we did. Fun? That ain’t defined by you guys.”
“Let’s play 21 Dares,” Ojaswi cuts in.
Aravind and I whip our heads up in alarm. Definitely not.
“I mean…” She shrugs. “I call that fun. And we won’t give you tricky dares.”
Ruchi stares her down for a good thirty seconds. I’m secretly hoping she’ll say no, but it seems like Ojaswi means what she said. Maybe they are really bored and want to pass the time.
“Deal,” Ruchi says.
Ojaswi smiles. The game is on.
We go around, counting numbers, taking turns doing intrepid dares and answering scandalous questions. It’s not so bad, and Ruchi, Aravind and I even relax a little.
Another round—19, 20. Aravind’s turn.
“Okay, let’s make this interesting,” Ojaswi says. “I dare you… to tell us who you have a crush on.”
Ruchi and I look at each other in horror as the other girls yell their agreement. Ojaswi played a card too early, one which I’m not ready to see yet.
Aravind laughs nervously. “I don’t have one.”
“Mm-hmm. We believe that. Right, girls?” Ojaswi turns to her friends, who shake their heads and smile maniacally.
My fingernails dig into the palm of my hand. Now, Aravind looks queasy.
“I don’t. Really,” he insists, but Ojaswi ignores it. The girls keep pushing, insisting. Aravind looks ready to sink into the seat, disappear beneath the grooves.
“If you don’t want to, it’s probably someone in the circle,” another one of Ojaswi’s friends says.
The tension crackles in the air, beneath my skin. I don’t know how much I want to find out. Is Aravind going to crumble under all the pressure?
Finally, he says softly, “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Through the window, I see GISB’s main building come into view.
Ojaswi impatiently drums the top of her seat. “Come on! We’re almost here, spill it!”
“I don’t want to make… her feel otherwise.”
Silence. The noise behind and the bus’s engines fade into the background as I consider what Aravind just said.
Her… and not him.
“Oh my God… I think he means…” Ojaswi lets out a high, unnatural laugh. “Ruchi, did you even know? That so-called ‘best friend’ of yours has been in love with you the entire time!”
All of her girlfriends cackle with laughter. I stare at Ruchi, the hurt cracking my chest open. Behind me, Aravind hangs his head low.
“Jay,” Ruchi starts. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
The teachers start yelling, “Get your bags, take your things, we’re getting down!”
“Girls.” Ojaswi points at me. “Just look at Jay’s face!”
“Hold on, Oji,” Divya says. “I think… oh my God! Jay likes Aravind! No wonder he’s so upset.”
“He’s gay? Like, for real?”
I feel my face heat up. This isn’t what I wanted my coming out story in India to be like. Being mocked by these girls in a packed bus playing 21 Dares.
Ojaswi shakes her head. “Americans. What can we say?”
I grab my bag and roughly push past Ruchi and Aravind.
Ruchi calls my name once more. “I can explain—“
“Save it.” I grit my teeth, surprised by the hardness in my words. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t even look at Aravind when I walk past, even though he’s trying to catch my eye.
I step down from the bus, onto the gravel crunching under my shoes. Biting my tongue, I taste blood.
I guess that’s what heartbreak feels like.
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