Chapter 14
Fighting To Lose
The air feels ice cold. I tug on my golden sweater to cover my jittering hands just as a wall of crisp yellow leaves comes crashing down on me.
I dust the leaves off my face onto the bone white floor.
I can hear deer clattering around the mountain and beyond the river next to us as a gust of mist surrounds us.
My body touches the wet wooden board that reads, Roars and Cheers allowed in Nature Classes only when done collectively.
A deep voice echoes from the woods surrounding us: “Nature versus Nurture! The question that has haunted humans since the beginning of time. There are two Natural Tests. The first is surviving creatures (nature). The second is surviving creations (nurture, human nature, humans or whatever we pick). This is the first test, as you all know: Nature.”
We turn around and see no one. But. Just as my eyes squint beyond the yellow leaves, I see a stiff, yellow pale body camouflaged among the dancing grass.
He jumps out, and we all exclaim, falling back in shock. “Synch. You must be in synch with nature and with your partner, or you stand no chance at victory. I’m Patron Colo. Stop standing there like fools! Get into your selected groups,” he says, hovering over us with his pine-colored eyes.
I find Zia, and we jump into our assigned boat.
“Ready to win?” she asks.
Before I can respond, Patron Colo shouts, “First team to reach the other side wins. You will be graded based on how fast you are and your ability to beat your classmates, yet remain common. First group of students, your race starts now!” He blows a horn.
Splooosh! Cheers erupt from the students who are on the sidelines. The race begins. Zia’s and I’s paddles hit the water a second faster than the group beside us.
Within moments, we take the lead due to Zia’s intense paddling. Before long, Zia stretches her arms as they begin to ache. “Hey, Shantavia, how are you doing?” she asks between breaths.
“I’m doing great,” I respond, but I am not trying at all.
To get sent to The Seventh Zone, I can no longer win anything. Being tagged as prey, I now have to change their perception of me and become a nuisance. If I cannot conquer The Commons, I have to confuse The Commons. And for that to happen, I have to “naturally” perform poorly on these Nature Tests.
“Not bad, but… isn’t it getting a little wet?” Zia shouts.
Wet? What is she talking about? I look down, and immediately it all made sense; the gradual slowing of our speed, the growing puddle that only seemed to increase, and the strange belief that this race seemed to be going better than I hoped all pointed to one thing—a leak on the boat.
And it was probably planned by Patron Colo.
Within seconds, my suspicions are reaffirmed as I hear the cries of the other six teams.
“What do we do?” Zia shouts out to me.
I know exactly what to do to win this race. Jump into the water. Duh? The rules said, get to the end. But it did not say how. Just because they gave us the boat doesn’t mean we are restricted by it. But I can’t tell Zia that. I feel bad, but I can’t.
I can’t afford to win. So, I simply continue rowing the boat. “We can make it, Zia! We’re almost there,” I scream.
That would turn out to be the wrong choice for the test. But the right choice for my plan. I look behind us to see Team Five, led by Ciaro and Zavish, emerging from last place, swimming to victory.
“Crap! Shantavia, why didn’t you think of that?” Zia asks.
“I don’t know. They said stay in the boat,” I naively respond, shrugging my shoulders.
“Clearly, I should have joined group five.” She sighs and turns away, annoyed.
I’m not sure why she has this idea that I’m supposed to win at everything.
I head inside, toward the Nature Hallway, for my third day of self-defense practice. I need to show signs of failure early on before the test. So, I plan on being late.
I cannot run in The Commons, or the motion sensor floors will incriminate me somehow.
So, of course—I run. I look down to see small flashing white and red lights shining in my eye.
I assume that my iris was just scanned to ensure I’m reprimanded in some way.
This is good for my plan of getting sent to The Seventh Zone.
I continue running and arrive at the locker room to change into my self-defense clothes. After changing, I instinctively hold my hair to put it up, but I catch myself. I stop, then let it down. I need to stick out as “uncommon property.”
I run toward the training ground for my self-defense class.
It is a stadium with an abstract white roof of seemingly never-ending lines and fake green grass.
In the distance, there is a sand field with rocks surrounding the area.
My class is right beside the water glass stadium, which is encircled by white glass covering an Atlantis-blue waterfall thundering into a circular pool.
Making it through the doors just before they shut behind me, I look at the congregation of students and join them.
Everyone is looking at Shay, the self-defense instructor.
All the students turn my way with crinkled noses and creased brows.
Some shake their head in disbelief, sneering at me in indiscernible whispers.
I strut toward Shay who is speaking. He talks with a high-pitched howl and conniving tone.
It is the most irritating, egotistical, self-indulgent voice I have ever heard, and as such, I know that feigning disinterest will irritate him.
So I turn away from him as though paying him no attention; I stare at the field and begin to yawn overtly.
He turns my way and lifts his chin, angered. “You all had homework to complete. Three simple techniques: Slide, kick, and jab. Now I will watch a few unlucky people demonstrate them. First up, the late freshman girl! Draw a straw,” Shay says.
Everyone looks at me as though I am entering a Roman colosseum to fight to my death. I ignore them. Nothing will stop me from purposefully embarrassing myself.
I prance up with undivided focus and draw a straw. “Heads,” I articulate.
“Heads up, who’s fighting Shantavia. How about you, Quan?” Shay screams, pointing to the red-haired boy I met at the Cognitive pod, Lerod Quan. I look to the right to see Quan come out of the corner of a pillar behind Shay. Everyone gasps in shock.
“Whoa, a student against our class Lerod. She’s so done,” I hear a student whisper in the corner.
I think I know where this is going. Shay selected Lerod Quan to teach me a lesson. Quan picks a straw. The crowd roars. Quan brandishes his fist with smug confidence, and I stare at him in a defiant glare.
“Shantavia, a Fresh Crispy Crab and Quan, Junior and Lerod. Let the fight begin,” Shay pronounces.
The students laugh. Okay, I meant to embarrass myself, but this, this is a little annoying. A part of me wants to fight hard and show them that I can take down a Lerod. But I can’t. I have to lose.
Anything but slide, kick, and jab.
We face each other. A claw tattoo is inscribed on his wrist. It is symbolic of being a star Lerod in The Commons... I think. I look away. Before I can get into position, Quan aggressively dives in for the punch. I dodge, then fall thereafter. He slide kicks. I fall. The crowd shouts.
I look to see Shay watching with pleasure-filled eyes.
I know he wants to see me lose woefully.
Good thing our plans align well. Before I can turn to focus on defending myself, Quan curls his hand into a fist. Revengeful, he punches me in the stomach and jabs my face with his other hand.
I am thrown back. He charges at me and punches me again, jabbing his hands right through my stomach again.
I feel my intestines turn. The crowd exclaims in shock.
Okay, that hurt. A lot. Really bad, actually.
I wasn’t paying enough attention to flex my abs on that one.
I fall to the ground, dragging my feet in pain. I don’t know if I can keep on doing this. Before I can stand up, Quan jabs me on the neck.
That’s it.
Change of plans. I can’t let this guy kill me.
I have been fighting so common, so calm, not even trying, but this Quan is trying to hurt me, like he has something against me, and I barely even know the guy.
I am no longer going to let him hurt me completely.
I have to fight him, but without the rules. So, I take a deep breath.
I know Quan’s weakness. He thinks I cannot fight.
So he will be taken unawares. Secondly, he fights with the rules.
So here goes my advantage. I jump up and turn to Quan, who is about to release a last strong jab: I catch it, twisting his arms and pushing him forward.
The crowd flares up. I guess they didn’t think I could fight.
I waste no time; I want to finish this. I punch him, and he flies to the floor. He stands up to kick me, but I perform a flip in the air.
Using my legs to knock him off, he falls instantly, struggling on the floor.
I look to the right, and I see Shay with an unbecoming face.
For some indiscernible reason, he is delighting in Quan’s pain. An amused smile drifts across his lips. Then he screams in a manipulative, cunning voice, “Well, finish it, Shantavia!”
“I thought this was just meant to show if we practiced. I thought it was just homework,” I respond, confused.
“Homework that you will fail unless you finish what you started, Shavia!”
Fantastic.
I look at Quan on the floor. And I realize I only have one choice. And it has nothing to do with my plan. It has to do with my heart. If I punch Quan again, I may seriously hurt him, possibly put him in the hospital, or worse… death.
I cannot do that. That’s just not who I am.