Player

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Ken's pov

The only sensation from childhood that I have carried with me is the feeling of my heart racing in my chest. It was an awful feeling and sometimes it was so intense I would start crying because I felt like my chest would burst open with the pain. I suppose it was something I was born with, or maybe something I earned from my parents, like the occasional bruises on my skin. The bruises were gone now, but my heart still raced the same. And the same blood that flowed on my skin still flowed through my veins.

I was always hypervigilant of my surroundings. Every person was a threat. Every conversation a new challenge. The feelings diluted a little as I grew older, but it is always there, in the back of my mind, waiting to be triggered by the tiniest thing.

Until I met her, Anjali. She was new here, just like me. But unlike me, she felt safe in this world. She was not scared of being attacked or made fun of, she laughed it all off. She did not care about making mistakes, she just gave it her everything. In the end, if she was left with nothing, she simply said, "Well, that was quite an experience."

When I was cold, she was warm. When I was a burning flame, she was my soothing ice. When I was the sun, she just enjoyed my warmth and when I was the rain, she soaked her clothes in all my tears.

And when she was not there, I was nothing.

I was an empty shell and I just filled myself up with smoke of all flavours and all kinds to fill myself up. But it was never enough, was it?

I played tennis, and I played it well, but it was not something I had done through a lot of hard work. It just came naturally to me and when I played, I never gave it a second thought.

I remember seeing her for the first time in class. We were in year 8 and she was a new student. She was nervous, her accent had a certain touch to it, which made me realise she probably was not accustomed to speaking English all the time.

The other kids in class often poked fun at her and they never considered her as one of them. I was not the friendly type either, so no matter how badly I wanted to get to know her, even when she sat down beside me, I did not look up at her.

"Hi," she said, her tone was quiet, as if she did not really expect me to return the greeting.

"Hey," I said back, still not looking at her.

She adjusted herself on the seat. "I'm Anjali."

"I know," I said. There was something about her voice that made me soften up a bit, "I'm Kenna."

"Hi Kenna," she said. "Um, actually you probably already know it, but I'm new here so I don't really know how, you know..." she gestured vaguely at her books.

"What?" I said, non-plussed.

She sighed, "Well, I need some help with my work." She cringed at her own words.

"Oh," I said, she actually comes here to study, "yeah I can do that. No biggie."

"I moved just a couple of weeks back. I'm from India," she continued. "I won't bother you much. Just sometimes I don't understand certain phrases..."

"It's cool Anjali, don't think too much about it. Ask me anything," I said.

"Anything?" she said. Her voice had a certain softness to it which made me frown and finally look at her. Her skin was a beautiful shade of brown and her eyes were black, just like her hair. She was looking at me earnestly, her eyes wide and warm and welcoming.

"Yeah," I said.

"You're an immigrant too right?" she said, her eyes gauging my expressions. She looked so sweet.

I sucked my lips inside and looked away. "Yeah." I paused, "We moved here two years ago. I'm from China."

"Oh cool," she said, "Didn't you make friends here?"

I shrugged, "Well."

"I'm sorry," she said. She tilted herself to pick up her books and her right leg gently brushed up against mine. Suddenly she sprang away from me. "I'm sorry," she said again, looking flustered this time.

Look, I did not understand Anjali. I didn't understand her at all. I didn't understand how I was supposed to feel about her, but for some reason I felt good. So when she walked up to me again the next day, I quietly picked up my books and gave her the space to sit beside me.

She turned to look at me and opened her mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words to say. Then finally she settled on, "Are we friends?"