A yellow and blue pamphlet drifted across an empty hallway and slid, through the open doors, under the wooden table over which Nadia was sat.
The way to the club room was visibly as deserted as a mid west village during an afternoon. Soft violin notes echoed through the empty lot as Francesca played the instrument with her eyes set on Bernie. Her body swayed with the ebb and flow of the notes but her eyes did not falter from Bernadette Louise's brown head bobbing up and down while in a conversation with Marilyn.
They were sat on a sofa, on the farther left of the room, where the lights were dim and the disappointment of Nadia's eyes was lessened in impact owing to the distance.
It was the same music that Francesca had composed, early into primary school.
She remembered the day like the strings of her bow. The day all participants of the Summer Festival were supposed to audition on stage. The early summer sun had been glaring upon them for two hours and another long line of participants left no refuge in sight. She remembered her throat being scratchy and parched, feet begining to sweat in her socks and hair sticking to her neck; everything felt horrible in that moment. Her button nose was scrunched and brows pushed together in a deep frown, contemplating if she should pretend to pass out and get away.
It was then, when Francesca was about to lose all hope, the announcer introduced the magic show. She remembered the crowd groaning while the young participants walked up the stairs and made it to the stage.
Maybe it was the fact that their performance was in the middle, maybe it was Ryker's hat that consumed his head, maybe it was the fact that the magician blended so well with the background — that Francesca noticed him.
In a red dress, blonde wig wearing him, heels staggering and announcing every step he took, everything about the blob of red moving around the blob of black was just so endearingly memorable — yet, empty. It was because it was empty, maybe, why Francesca remembered it more.
The loud, "Shalalala," Ryker shouted as he pretended to make Bernie disappear from stage. The loud noises Ryker made while pretending to cut Bernie into three pieces and making his middle part disappear. The, 'thuk, thuk, thuk,' that Bernie's heels betrayed, announcing exactly how he was hiding himself in every new trick.
"Maybe music would have been better," Francesca remembered muttering to herself. An act with potential was rejected because of lack of music, Francesca deduced. Though, that day, all on her mind was the need to get home quick and grab a glass of cold lemonade — the performance had settled itself in a corner of Francesca's brain, making permanent abode.
When Francesca was thirteen, she won an award for her composition, 'The boy in Red Heels.' It was a violin piece she had created in Bernie's memory, an intriguing assortment of notes that began from a curious flutter to a bold crescendo, insinuating the boy's familiar to the loudness of his heels.
Francesca remembered, waiting outside of class seven, section A, as the cold autumn wind would blow past her shoulders and hook around her neck, as if embracing her cowardice.
She wanted to tell him: I wrote a piece about you. It won me a national prize! Will you listen to it? Will you be friends with me?
But somehow words evaded her whenever he would appear in her line of sight. The soft brown hair that framed his face and rested over his nape like gentle ribbons. The curved bow lips which would open up into a boxy smile. The way his warm eyes would crinckle when he was too happy about something.
Francesca wanted to tell him — You're so beautiful.
But maybe seventh was too early. Eight was too late because she was in High School and her academic building changed. Ninth though, Ninth was perfect.
"Perfect, my arse! This is a total dud! There's no new member!" Ryker bellowed as he entered the club room.
Francesca stopped playing and cradled her violin in her arms as Caleb walked up to her. "Give this a month, they'll frizzle out," he whispered, almost snorting. His green eyes were narrowed with evident mockery as he stared at Nadia resting her forehead on Ryker's shoulder.
"It's okay, we can expect slow progress. Being an instant hit frizzles out early. We need to take a slow and steady approach," Nadia declared, rubbing her forehead on Ryker's shoulder. He was standing in front of her, glaring at incompetency he was surrounded with.
"Yeah, Mar and I were talking about it," Bernie said as he got up, "Since we have five members, let's just start with the first week of activities! All the food id getting cold, let's just get with our inauguration party today," he walked up to them.
"Yeah, Nadia made such a feast, let's not waste it," Marilyn said as she took a seat on the head of the elongated table.
"Call your teammates, they worked so hard to help us clean," Nadia smiled and patted Ryker's shoulder, "Let's just celebrate us for now."
"For Sandbox!"
Everyone clinked their glasses and returned to their seats. On Marilyn's right were Nadia, Ryker and his track team mates. On Marilyn's left was Bernie, Francesca, Caleb and the last moment guest, Ivan.
"Maybe no one is coming because you've got such a crappy name. Like Sandbox, seriously? Do better," Ryker shook his head, judgement reverberating through his bones.
"When I asked you to come up with you, what did you suggest? Ah- the DoNothingers! And— oh, Doc. Doof's Minions and yes, On Perry (the platypus') Hitlist. Very smart," Nadia grumbled and slapped the canoli off Ryker's hand.
"Hey!" Ryker snapped, "At least they were creative!"
"I agree," Francesca grinned from across the table, "But I'll naming skills aside, I love the food! This could pass as resturant grade Nadia!"
"Oh?!" Ivan uttered, brows raised in surprise, "You made it all by yourself?! Everything?!" He questioned, loud enough to be heard across the table.
"Yes! The cheese bombs are my favourite!" Nadia grinned, "I hope you all eat well!"
"We shall!" Bernie and Marilyn chorused along with the others.
It was in that moment, pressed between Francesca and Ivan, that Caleb decided it would be good to speak up. Everyone like being praised. If he praised Nadia publically, he could earn bonus points from Ryker. Caleb inhaled a big breath, puffed his chest, then uttered, sounding choked, "This was very nice...I bet if it were food in Cinderella's house then the rats would be all fat like Gusgus."
The track team hollered at the backhanded compliment. Ryker frowned, Bernie snorted and Marilyn snapped, "Are you saying that this is food for the rats?!"
"Wh—what! No!" Caleb exclaimed, taken aback. He took his hands off the table, exhibiting exasperation, when Francesca pointed:
"Look, he agrees! He even took his hands away!"
"What! N-N-No!" Caleb gasped, staring at his hands awkwardly hanging in the air. Instantly, he placed them on the nearest dish of food.
"Look, he wants to destroy the food now," someone from the track team gasped, eyeing Caleb's hands doused in spegatti.
"If the food isn't to your taste, I can order you something else," Nadia sniffled, eyeing Caleb press his hands further into the spegatti.
"No-oh my fuc—"
"No need to order him anything, I think he's grabbing the spegatti because he's gonna bare hand it. He loves it," Ryker cut in, voice cold, smile pretentious and half-hooded eyes staring into Caleb's soul.
"Yeah, I agree, come now senior Caleb, show up how you like to eat spegatti by rolling it into balls," Bernie chirped and sent an encouraging pat on Caleb's back.
"Y-yes, yeah, i love it," Caleb grinned, rolled the spegatti into a noodle ball and gulped it in a go. He even licked the sauce off his hands to convey his love for the food.
"He...he," Nadia laughed, dryly, "I appreciate the dedication..." She dragged.
Bernie snorted and looked away while Caleb was licking his hands. He shook his head upon witnessing Ryker's sly smirk centred at Caleb. No matter how new the surroundings or how fresh of a start one wants — somethings never change because some people never let go.
They may sit in new outfits, on newly painted chairs, with a new scent on — but try as they may, ten minutes in and their real posture shows. The curve, the slouch, the leg shaking, the finger tapping, it's all there.
He looked up to see Nadia smiling but was surprised to realise who the recipient was. It wasn't the usual Ryker or him or the newly acquired Marilyn, but someone on the end of the table. Someone whose pale brows were dancing up and down on his forehead, making a deliberate attempt to illicit a laugh. Someone, for whom, Nadia was twirling her unruly hair strands behind her ear.
Ivan Ramirez had his eyes set on Nadia Paisely.
Bernie was scandalised to find out for the rest of the evening, Nadia tucked her hair behind her ear, fluttered her eyes and almost blushed when Ivan let her win in UNO. All afternoon long, Bernie set desperate eyes on Ryker, luring him in with wide eyes, hoping he would catch the drift — look around him and realise what was brewing by his side but NO!
The track team was long gone yet Ryker was busy flicking Caleb's forehead for every match he lost in Rock-Paper-Scissor.
Bernie rolled his eyes and decided to take the matter in his own hands. He dragged his chair all the way from the opposite side of the table, making screeching sounds with its legs that silenced the whole crowd. He set the chair in between Ryker and Nadia's by forcing everyone else to shift with apologetic glances.
"What's wrong with you?" Ryker whispered at Bernie's displacement.
Bernie shook Ryker off his shoulder and announced, "Let's play a game!"
"Ohh, what game! I love games!" Francesca chirped, leaning over the table.
"Pass the straws Mar, will you?" Bernie asked, casually ignoring Francesca.
Marilyn nodded and picked up a bunch of paper straws from the cutlery dispenser in front of her. She passed them to Bernie who counted seven straws to keep and ripped one of them to halve it.
"Oh I know this game! The one who picks the shorter one loses, right!" Nadia exclaimed as Bernie strategically set up the straws in his palm.
"Yes! We get to ask them questions!" Bernie added.
"Lame," Ryker huffed.
"Sounds fun," Ivan shrugged.
"Dumb," Caleb uttered, supporting Ryker.
Ryker rolled his eyes at Caleb's comment while Marilyn said:
"Let's begin!"
Bernie smirked as he held out the straw filled hand for everyone to take a pick. His sharp eyes stalked Ivan's movements as he leaned in, skimmed over a few straws and then chose the one in the middle. Everyone else picked up a straw and held it out.
"The loser has to answer a question," Bernie smirked, eyes unmoving from Ivan's.
"Ah—" Ivan started, looking around, "I guess I have the shortest, what's your question?"
Marilyn fought the urge to fire a question, Nadia almost opened her mouth and Francesca was halfway through, "Would you rath—"
When Bernie asked, "Is there someone you like in this room?"
"Ohhhhhh~" Francesca sang. Caleb perked up to hear. Ryker leaned in, eyes wide and mouth charged with mockery— ready to shoot whenever Ivan confessed. Nadia looked at him with her big brown eyes, blinking at him with wonder. Marilyn just seemed genuinely giddy to be playing a game with people of her age.
"Yes," Ivan replied, looking at Bernie with a raised brow.
"Oh my goodness!!!" Francesca yelped, "The student council president likes someone!! Probably a junior!! Is it you—?!" She flipped to point a finger at Marilyn.
Marilyn immediately raised her hands in surrender, eyes wide and panic laced on her forehead, "No, no, no, I don't even know him at all."
Francesca narrowed her eyes at Marilyn's panicked stated then retreated her hand— "oh! what— you cannot like me president, i am chasing after someone, sorry," Francesca pouted and used her softest tone to reject him.
"Oh, I am devastated," Ivan shook his eyes, laughing dryly.
Nadia snorted at that. Loud enough for something to click in Ryker's brain. He sat up, alerted, eyes widened, he looked at Bernie.
'No you decide to look at me?!' Bernie's judgemental face said.
'I am sorry but what the heck?!' Ryker's flared nostrils and stiff frown demanded.
'Nadia seems to have a crush on him,' Bernie conveyed through multiple blinks.
"Ohh— next game, next game!" Nadia grabbed the straws and bunched them in her hand.
'How do you know?! What even?! She isn't like that!' Ryker's shaking head and exaggerated expressions conveyed.
"Take a straw, everyone!" Marilyn said after taking one.
'I thought so too! But—'
Ryker did not wait for Bernie to make more faces. He stood up, mid-game and announced, "Oh my the clock reads late! Club activities begin tomorrow! Lets us be dismissed!" He clapped his hands and got out of the chair.
Caleb shot up from his chair. Ryker looked at him and smiled brightly.
"What— No! We were play—"
Nadia's protests were cut off as Bernie stook up and yawned, stretching his limbs out, "Oh I need some walking, let's get home, yeah Nadia?" He glared at a surprised Marilyn to play in.
"What—" Nadia began.
"Yeah, my tutors must be arriving, I should leave now," Marilyn said as she stood up.
"This was fun! The food was great! Can't wait to meet tomorrow," Francesca said as she too stood up.
"Come, let's go," Ryker gestured for Caleb to leave and the boy left no seconds to zoom out without greetings.
Nadia sighed as she got up, "It was good to have you all here, even Caleb. Thank you for surprising us with your presence, senior Ivan. Thank you for letting us make Sandbox. I hope we are able to set new milestones," she said and raised one last toast with a glass of sherbet.
"Can't wait to see you win the world," Ivan smiled, "Until then, don't give up," he nodded and walked out.
"He's so nice," Nadia sniffled and fell back into her chair.
"Is he? Felt pretty diplomatic to me," Francesca said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Yeah... very professional and responsible — but, did he really like you though?" Marilyn asked as she turned to face Francesca.
The strawberry blonde merely shrugged, "I don't know, people just like me too quickly. It's not a bad thing to reject them first. Saves from a messy future," she smiled and patted Marilyn's back, "You're pretty, you must remember this."
"Nadia's pretty as well," Marilyn said, frowning.
"She is, yes," Francesca said, as Marilyn and her looked at Nadia grumbling at Bernie and Ryker. Her curly hair were constantly escaping the twin-tail jail and Francesca knew for a fact that when Nadia would loose her hair, they'd end up being in two sections like the ends of a toffee wrapper. "She's pretty but not for the boys," Francesca smiled.
Nadia was adequately tall for her age albeit shorter in constant comparison to Ryker and Bernie. She did not have the inbuilt delicacy that Bernie possessed or the inherent richness that Ryker exhuted. She was just Nadia. A plain girl, dressed in plain clothes, did not smell exceptionally well, did not clean exceptionally well, did not style exceptionally well — if commoner had a face, it would be Nadia.
Not too bad, not too good.
"Ryker and Bernie love her though," Marilyn pointed out as Ryker wrapped an arm around Nadia's collarbones and pulled her up. Bernie gathered her stuff and followed behind.
"Because they're m—" Francesca could not complete the sentence as Nadia flipped out of Ryker's grasp and rushed back.
"Marieeeeeeee, I was being kidnapped without saying goodbye," she pouted and pulled Marilyn in a hug. They swayed side-to-side as Marilyn sang:
"Nadieeeeee, I had so much fun today. Thank you for making extra vegan food for me."
"Hush," Nadia snapped and let go, "See you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Always," Marilyn smiled and waved at Nadia's retreating back.
"You love her too," Francesca said with a smile as observed Marilyn's unmoving gaze from Nadia's silhouette as she crossed the hallway.
"I cannot help it," Marilyn pursed her lips.
New places brought new faces, new feelings and new expectations. The old golf storage was now a new club and Francesca's old crush was now within her range. Ryker gained a new lackey, Nadia a new admirer, Bernie a new target to assess and Marilyn a purpose to away from home as long as she could.