Spark

Part 2.11

A lot happened afterward that I probably don't need to talk about. It's enough to say that my life wasn't the same. The "magic" sometimes felt like a dream, until Sheri would do it again, and then it wasn't.

That wasn't the only thing that happened, though. Thanks to that text Sheri sent, I spent just a little bit of time re-examining how I felt about her. I wasn't tripping or anything, just thinking.

I'm not tall, even now that a few years have passed since those school day. I was definitely not athletic either. Maybe I could type really fast even on a phone, but that doesn't really count.

It was perhaps the week after we had returned from suspension. Our class teacher made an announcement I wasn't expecting and no, it wasn't a new transfer student (this story is not as exciting as your typical school-based anime). It was sports.

Mr. Max, shorter than my below-average height, looked a bit comical when he was excited. In retrospect that was probably why he hardly ever showed emotion.

His voice quivered as he called for attention, and he got it immediately. He was short, mean and often petty, no one wanted to be the last to settle down.

I zoned out almost as soon as he started. It was about our school teams. The head coach had selected the new team captains for sport, and our class had swept three out of seven. Mr. Max repeatedly stressed on how this was a result of discipline and hard work, subtly linking himself to their achievement.

I wasn't surprised that the girl sitting behind me was one of the three. Vashti; reserved and awkward everywhere besides the court. Even I knew that she deserved it.

My recollection of events is a little bit hazy at this point. I do remember that there was an unplanned free-period immediately after Mr. Max's English period of torture. I also remember that it was Sheri who brought the argument to a boiling point by calling the girls basketball team "just a little more useless than their new captain."

It was that sort of moment in which there is a moment of silence during classroom chatter.

The moment was accented by two of our fluorescent tubes going dark. Even the steady breeze that had been moving though the room just moments before came to a standstill. The universe literally set a stage.

"What did you say?" Vashti asked. Her eyes widened. She was clearly thrown by the boldness that most people missed because they ignored Sheri.

Sheri stood up and stared down the other girl – which was an achievement, since Vashti stood more than a head taller than she did - "You heard what I said" she hissed. Then she enunciated slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile, "Girls basketball team. Useless. You, Vashti Mensah. Useless. What are you going to do about it?"

Vashti pushed on Sheri's forehead with her forefinger.

Sheri stumbled against her chair as she was forced to step backward. She stared at the sports girl, astonished.

Emboldened, Vashti nodded and smiled. "I'm not afraid of something like you. If the rumours are even true. Now, will you apologise or..."

Sheri slapped her.

From that moment, it went to hell. If I'm absolutely objective, Sheri held her own better than I thought she would. She took a scratch that left her lip bleeding as she dodged a jab or two and then rained punches into Vashti's side.

If you haven't guessed by now, the two of them became the centre of attention. The class became rowdier than before. I swear people even took bets on which of the girls would come out on top.

Out of nowhere, Vashti clobbered Sheri with a solid knock, which dazed her for a moment. The taller girl than tried to land slap – payback for the first one she chopped. Sheri leaned out of the way just in time, but perhaps not enough. Even though Vashti's swing missed her face, it did tear away the brooch that kept Sheri's headscarf in place.

The square of light, blue fabric floated to the ground. Sheri watched it land on the plain concrete, stunned.

Even I had not seen her hair till then. It was braided into tight zig-zag cornrows and shot through with more gray than an old lady.

A sense of deja-vu hit me like a freight train. As perhaps the one person who knew her secret, I knew how her body language changed when she was about to heat up.

In perhaps the most ill-advised move of my secondary school life, I rushed over and grabbed her arms from behind.

The heat was incredible, and maybe perhaps I should have wondered why it didn't roast my palms. My only concern was preventing my friend from doing one of the very things she had told me she was afraid of.

"This will only make things worse, Sheri." I pleaded, under my breath. "Let it go!"

That didn't work. It took everything in me to hold her against my chest and prevent her from laying hands on Vashti. I felt as if I was wrangling an epileptic bull.

"Calm down!" I growled, as she struggled even harder. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye but didn't make it to her cheek before it evaporated.

"You're better than this. Just. Let. It. Go."

The breeze returned, a literal breath of fresh air, and Sheri stopped struggling. As soon as she noticed my grip had loosened she shrugged out of her restraints, snatched up her headscarf and stormed out of the class.