Lean On Me

Chapter 4

The next day in school, my day started of with PE (Physical Education). I found myself in the same courts as I was last week. I wasn't listening at all to what the teacher-in-charge was saying but I panicked when I realised people were forming pairs. I instinctively looked for a girl I knew but I was too late. Looks like I had to just play badminton solo. I scooped a shuttlecock up with my racket and hit the shuttlecock up and down on my own.

"Not bad," a voice startled me out of my wits. As a self-defence response, I spun around and swung my badminton racket hard. Which I immediately regretted as I saw Travis Taylor himself flinch, rubbing his shoulder I had just whacked.

I gasped and dropped the racket.

"I am so so so so so so so sorry- I just got shocked and I -oh my goodness, are you alright? Shall I call the teacher? Or maybe I should-" I rambled as I reached to tug his sleeve up to assess the condition. It had to have hurt. That same stroke could send a lacrosse ball across the entire field.

"Jesus, calm down, Faye Stone."

I paused mid speech and one eyebrow quirked.

"How did you know my name?" Suspicion coursed through me, replacing my initial panic.

He shrugged," I know many people here, Faye Stone."

It was only then that I realised I was still clutching onto his red shoulder. I pulled away quickly, feeling an unfamiliar heat rise up to o my cheeks. I ignored the funny feeling in my tummy and retorted, "Don't call me that. I'm just Faye."

He stared at me for a while, making me feel self-conscious all of a sudden. What the hell was he doing? I felt so naked under his hot stare. He then coolly copped the shuttlecock and racket I had dropped and handed them to me.

"Well, Just Faye, would you like to have a rally with me?" he asked as he backed away into the other court, bending below the net.

"I don't play with people I know nothing about," I lied, holding my chin high in response to his offer which I preferred to interpret as a challenge.

He gave me a smirk. Not like the one James liked to give, but one that unlocked a cage of butterflies in my stomach.

"The name's Travis Taylor," he called from his half of the court. He looked back expectantly. I gave him a confused look.

"What're you waiting for? You know something now."

Unable to form an argument, I served.

****

"This isn't fair!" 

I huffed as I dragged my feet to pick up the shuttlecock from the corner of the box, cringing at my own shoes making those squeaky sounds.

Sweat rolled off the tip of my nose as I bent down to pick the shuttlecock up. y eyes burned as some had gotten into my eyes. Defeated, I grabbed my water bottle on the sideline and sat lazily, only to find Travis gazing at me with an amused expression.

"Why isn't it fair?"

The teasing smile tugging at his lips infuriated me. Having lost 21-2, and overwhelmed from having to run all over the court, I didn't have the patience for his teasing.

"You're a school team badminton player," I snapped.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"I thought you knew nothing about me?"

Shit. I was officially roasted. My cheeks were already rosy from running so I prayed the embarrassment wasn't obvious. Pretending like I wasn't mortified at being caught redhanded, I came clean.

"I caught the last set of your match. It was exhilarating," I confessed, downing some water to redirect my attention elsewhere.

Travis' stare pressured me to continue like an idiot.

"It was a really close match and I admired the tenacity and resilience you displayed. I'd never watched a badminton match before, you see, but I was so hooked that day. I didn't get to congratulate you properly, so congrats on the win! You played spectacularly, so incredibly agile and quick."

I hadn't quite planned on ever speaking to a jock but here I was.

Travis blinked and slowly, a smile spread across his face, and his face lit up. It was my turn to stare. He had a breathtaking smile. His eyes sparkled and he looked like a kid on Christmas.

"Thank you, Just Faye," he murmured. "That was the sweetest and most genuine thing someone has ever said in a while."

I chuckled, rolling my eyes, "C'mon, I bet the whole world has been bombarding you with something like that. Or at least the whole cheerleading team."

"No, not really." The seriousness in his tone told me that there was a story to be told. I rested my head on my elbows and sat cross legged.

"How do you mean?" I implored.

"Don't wanna brag but they just want to get in my pants. Sure a ton of girls flock me but they compliment my looks or my body rather than my performance. So it's just, you know, makes me happy to hear someone talk about my skill," he explained, eyes flitting around the room, watching the others play a relatively more equal and levelled game. Yup, I'm still angsty at the unfair match he subjected me to.

"That's horrible," I nod absent-mindedly. "I mean, you're a sportsman, not a model."

He chuckled.

"Wanna learn a cool handshake?" he blurted out suddenly.

"Sure," I shrugged, not really wanting to play another losing match of badminton anyway.

He repeated a complicated handshake a few times for me to learn and finally, I got it. The whole time our hands brushed each other, I couldn't help but think back on what he had opened up to me about.

I thought being a hot jock was an unfair privilege, but I guess it comes with its own caveats. People who just wanted in on your spotlight and fanbase.

"The rise of lookism in the 21st century is a serious problem. Maybe that's why I'm so unpopular," I mused out loud, but I doubted he heard me. He seemed equally deep in thought.

As the bell rang, we got to our feet and filed out of the courts. Just as we parted ways, he called out, "Quite the contrary!"

It took me a while to process it and when he had disappeared. I couldn't hide my goofy smile.