Jae Ham
I've always hated Monday mornings, and I usually prefer to stay at home, curled up in my blankets with a mess of Manga all over the floor, but today is different.
No, it isn't because of the massive banner above me that says SPRINGFIELD UNIVERSITY COLLEGE WEEK 2018: A TRIP TO THE WILD WEST. Nor is it because of the blaring country music engulfing the entire campus.
And no, my chipper mood isn't due to the fact that the whole place is decorated with colorful string flags, genuine bales of hay in every corner, three mechanical bull machines which have gained two long lines of students and professors who want to ride it, nor is it because everyone is clad in western clothes such as vests, boots, plaid tops, flannel shirts, leather pants, checkered v-necks, and inevitably, cowboy hats.
There are tents and stalls as far as the eye can see. Game booths and food kiosks catering to everyone's appetites. About fifty feet away from the medium-scale Ferris wheel, there's even a makeshift saloon that was set up in the cafeteria. Non-alcoholic drinks, of course.
Nu-uh. No sirree. None of those brought the smile on my face. Though I have to admit, as the vice president of the student council, I feel a surge of pride in my chest at the sight of everybody having fun and raving about the incredible organization of the event.
I'm wearing a brown cowboy hat, white blazer over a black shirt, and faded pants tucked into brown leather boots.
"Howdy, partner," I say below my breath, mimicking a cowboy's funny accent.
Sage arches one eyebrow at me questioningly. "If you're trying to imitate Woody from Toy Story, it's not working."
Wanting to remain in character, I tip my hat off to her and lower it to my chest, summoning a noble expression onto my features. "You're awfully pretty, ma'am. How slim do you reckon my chances are with you this fine evening?"
Sage giggles at my silliness, her eyes disappearing. "Extremely slim, I'm afraid. You're not too bad yourself, mister." Breaking character, she clears her throat and meets my amused gaze. "Everyone is enjoying the opener, huh?"
A lopsided smile creeps across my lips. Even before she removed her mask, I couldn't stop staring at her. But now.. I don't think I can tear my eyes away for even one second. And several students seem to agree with my sentiment, because the moment Sage arrived at school three hours ago, everyone gawked at her exposed face.
Her brown eyes, full lashes, pink plump lips, rosy cheeks, and freckles blend perfectly on her oval-shaped face. Today she is wearing a black cowgirl hat, a simple white shirt with short sleeves, a shiny belt buckle, and dark blue skinny jeans ending in brown leather boots. Her golden hair, long and luscious, cascades down her back and over her shoulders, as usual.
"Yeah," I say breathlessly, turning my head to look at the merriment, "I'm glad it's sailing smoothly."
When I glance over at Sage, she's tapping her index finger on the wireless microphone which is technologically connected to the Public Announcement System of the university.
"Testing, testing.. Mango, cheese, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry.." her mirthful voice echoes around the campus grounds efficiently.
I lean in closely and whisper, "Most people say 'One two three.'"
She shoots me a withering look, holding my gaze as she continues. "Cookie dough. Okay, I just want to make sure I have everyone's attention."
Her focus swivels over to the students and professors now gaping at her. "Time check is 11:30. I repeat, eleven thirty. I wish to remind everyone that the Ribbon Game will commence at 4:00. Whoever wants to participate, kindly sign your name on the sign up sheet, which can be found with our cool, smart, and very much available secretary, Joaquin Carr. He's at the saloon if you're interested.. in the game, I mean."
A round of laughter ensues, petering into lively noise and pleasant chatter.
"What?" Sage asks while she slides the mic into the pocket on the side of her leather belt.
"Quin told you to say that, didn't he?" I chuckle slightly, combing my black hair using my fingers as I grin widely at the blonde.
"Of course he did," she says, her tone admonishing me. "I wouldn't disrupt someone's life without their consent." She darts me a strange look. "But perhaps there are some exceptions to every rule."
What's that supposed to mean?
I'm itching to ask her exactly that question, when she suddenly rams her fist into her palm, as though remembering something important.
"Where's your guitar?" she asks sternly, turning to face me.
"I left it with Res. My guess is that he's with Core and Penn, eating meat kebabs."
Sage narrows her eyes. "Your performance is at noon."
"Yeah, so?"
"It's in less than twenty minutes!" She jabs a finger at her watch. "You should be up on the stage by now, twisting and turning the.. the whatever."
My shoulders are shaking with laughter. "'The whatever'?" I echo, still laughing.
Two pink circles bloom on her cheeks. "I don't know the parts of a guitar, okay?" she says defensively, folding her arms, glowering to undermine her embarrassment.
"Res is reliable," I assure her, hooking my thumbs into my pockets. "He can be an idiot sometimes, but you can trust him no matter what."
Sage isn't even listening anymore. I feel a twinge of annoyance, surprising even myself at how, for the first time since I met her, I can actually see a part of Sage I consider obnoxious. It's normal for everyone to have trust issues, but her guard seems to be higher than mine.
I look away from Sage, recalling her amiable personality, the way she builds rapports with everyone she meets, how she does her best to maintain a certain, amicable vibe whenever she's surrounded by our professors and classmates.
When she's with me, she's different. Scratch that. When she's with my brother and sisters, her behavior is more sincere than I'd ever witnessed. She's more honest, more easygoing. Every time she's in school, she's placid, as if she's restraining who she really is.
From her actions, I'm beginning to glean just a little more of her character: The Sage behind the barriers, the girl inside the tunnel, the person hiding in a shell, struggling to burst free.
"Hey, Heart?"
She frowns at me, frustration curtaining her face. "What?"
"Can you explain the Ribbon Game? I wasn't really listening the first time."
At this, she smiles faintly. "There are twenty ribbons with the school's logo on it hidden all over the school. Whoever finds the most number of ribbons will win a one-thousand-dollar gift certificate to any store in Cali Mall. It's like a treasure hunt game."
"Are student council members eligible to compete?"
"No." Sage shakes her head. "We're part of the security committee. We need to roam the campus, making sure nobody gets hurt. Some of the ribbons were hidden in high places. Who knows what lengths people will stoop to in order to win? Should anyone get injured, then we can either use our first aid kits or call for help from a medical aide."
Sage turns to leave but I grab her wrist, and she winces, causing me to snatch my hand back. "I just.. I'm sorry for doing that," I apologize while she rubs some feeling back into her wrist. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out later after the game?"
Her brown eyes are unreadable. "I can't promise anything, Ham. Just please get your guitar ready."
As I watch Sage retreat to the outdoor stage where some of our fellow council members are setting up the stool and mic stand on the platform, I look down at my palm which had briefly touched her wrist.
There were deep cut marks digging into her skin.
