Jessica vs. The Jerk

27. Friends with benefits

Reprieve comes in the form of extracurricular activities. Both Jonah and I are competing in the next Combined International Schools Association tournament, so by unspoken agreement we make no plans whatsoever to start our Film class project before then. CISA is a three-day interschool competition, and if prom is the social highlight of junior year, CISA tournaments are the sporting equivalent. My school is hosting the February season, which is a bit of a downer because that's also when the oratory events are on, and it means I don't get to travel overseas with the public speaking team. The upside is that we have home team advantage, although all that really means is that if I lose, all my classmates are there to watch. No pressure or anything.

All my lunchtimes are spent practising and coaching my younger teammates, and by the time CISA rolls around, I'm in that place where I'm so anxious I might vomit at any moment, but so well-prepared I can probably do my speeches in my sleep. The public speaking heats are done by the time school normally finishes, so I meet up with my friends afterward to watch the evening games.

We head to the gym to watch the Chargers. Basketball is a huge deal for my school, and although we manage to find somewhere to sit on the Thursday night, by the time we arrive on Friday, the bleachers are packed with parents and students. Renie disappears for a few minutes while Mila and I stand near the doorway, trying to spot a place where we can sit.

'I just checked the scoresheets,' Renie says as she squeezes her way back to us. 'We're definitely in the semis.'

'So...' I try to look guileless, but I know the heat in my cheeks betrays me. 'Wanna go see water polo instead?'

Ten minutes later, we have fifth row seats at the aquatic center, where a game is already in progress. Of the three of us, Renie is the only one with a passing knowledge of the rules, and she tries to explain it to us, but Mila and I make it very clear that we're not here to understand the rules of water polo.

'This is a great idea,' Mila says enthusiastically as she rips open a bag of nuts and passes it around without taking her eyes off the pool.

When it's our team's turn, I try not to squirm as I watch the players from the Japanese international school followed by thirteen of my classmates walking around with nothing but a piece of Lycra and a very unattractive head cap. I spot Jonah straight away. He leads the Barracudas to the pool as the teams are announced and the players shake hands. My friends and I observe this in complete silence until, one by one, the players jump into the pool. Most do a shallow dive into the water, but Jonah casually steps forward from the edge and kind of hops into the water upright. I release a shaky sigh and meet Mila's eyes.

'Definitely a great idea,' she says, nodding in approval.

For a game where the spectators can't see anything below the chest most of the time, water polo is surprisingly exciting. I can barely keep myself afloat in still water, so I can't help but be impressed by the display of athleticism before me. When the players sprint across the pool chasing after the ball, I forget that these are the same boys I see slouching in Math class or playing pranks on each other in the hallways between class.

Mostly, I track Jonah gliding through the water, and whenever he puts his head down for a freestyle sprint, my breath hitches. I try to tell myself it's because I'm awed by his powerful strokes -- no innuendo intended -- but it's more complicated than that. My brain is annoyed that my heart is skipping for someone I barely know, but it's pointless to have this internal struggle when there are fourteen wet male abs engaged in a fierce display of masculinity before me.

Needless to say, I experience a lot of feelings in the space of about an hour. I think my friends do, too, because aside from cheering whenever the Barracudas try for a goal, there's a lot of hushed giggling and our conversations are almost all in Tagalog, all the better not to be overheard by the internationals and visitors.