The next morning Chris came to school early. He’d arranged to meet Andrew and Allen in front of the library. Chris was itching to meet the pimply boy. Time passed and the first bell would ring soon.
Andrew and Allen were breathing easier by the minute. Not so Chris. His anger at not seeing the bully pushed his adrenaline higher. He was fuming.
And then there he was. And he was walking toward classroom Building B with the tall girl.
“Eh,” said Allen, “try look.” He pointed.
“Wow,” said Andrew, “I think he forgot about us.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Chris, rolling his eyes.
The bell rang and the three headed for their homeroom classes, Chris’s in Building A. “He comes after you guys, you tell me,” said Chris.
Homeroom was unbearably long. Mrs. Yakitori sounded like a screeching bird as she read the bulletin. There could be no news important enough to invade the space in Chris’s thoughts about getting to English class as fast as possible. But then one item did penetrate his consciousness.
“There will be tryouts after school today for the intermediate football team.”
Much as he disliked team sports, this morning when hitting someone was very much on his mind, there was something about the idea of playing football that appealed to Chris.
“Meet on the field Farrington High School field at three o’clock.”
Chris filed this bit of information in the back of his mind, then returned to thoughts of the girl of his dreams.
When the bell rang, Chris was out the door and down the hall to English class faster than a speeding ‘Ewa locomotive. He stood panting in the hallway outside the classroom, breathless with anticipation.
Then there she was. Chris’s brain nearly stopped functioning. He did have enough of it still chugging along to move him behind her into the classroom. She took a seat and Chris stopped in front of her.
“Ah, okay to sit here?” he asked, pointing to the desk next to her.
Denise smiled. “Oh yes,” said Denise.
Chris sat. His mouth was dryer than aku left in the sun for a year. “Um, I’m Chris,” he managed, even though his stomach had launched itself to the moon.”
“Oh hi,” she said, “I’m Denise.”
Chris nodded and kept nodding. Then he remembered, “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” said Denise. “A new school. It’s kind of scary. Not knowing lots of people.”
“You no more, uh, you don’t have any friends here from elementary?” asked Chris.
“No, nobody. I transferred here from Lincoln Elementary.”
“Where’s that?”
“Over by Roosevelt,” said Denise.
“Wow, that’s nice over there. More nice, ah, much nicer than here.”
“Well, it was closer to my home,” said Denise.
“So how come you came here?”
“My dad works downtown. Just a couple of blocks from here. It makes it easier for him to take me home.”
At that moment, Mr. Tolentino strolled into class. “Good morning, class. Let me take quick attendance so we can get on to our reading for today.”
After he’d called roll, Mr. Tolentino passed out the class textbooks. He asked each student the number of the book, then came around to the front of the desk, book in hand, and sat on the desk.
There were some whispers and a few titters of laughter. Mr. Tolentino smiled. “What?” he said. “Canna make house or what?”
This brought lots of laughter and even some clapping. Chris knew he was going to love this English teacher.
“Okay,” said Mr. Tolentino. “Yesterday was the boring rules and regulations stuff. Now let’s get to the good stuff.”
All through class, Chris kept giving Denise sideways glances. He noticed how absorbed she was in the reading, and he wished he could do the same, but she was a major distraction. At the end of class, Mr. Tolentino gave them a grammar worksheet and ten more pages to read of the story they had started in class.
Chris tapped Denise on the shoulder. “Would you like to eat lunch with me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m meeting someone at lunchtime,” said Denise. “But thank you very much for asking.”
Football, Chris thought as he wandered down the hallway to Social Studies class. Yeah, football.
After doing more calisthenics in P.E., Chris trotted off to the locker room.
“Andaya!” called Mr. Arroyo. “Come here.”
Chris jogged over to his teacher. “Yes, Sir?”
“You look to be in pretty good shape, Andaya,” said the Sergeant. “How’d you like to try out for the intermediate football team?”
It was like fate. Chris smiled up at Sergeant Arroyo. “I would like that a whole lot,” he said.
“Good man,” said the sergeant. “Tryouts are over at the Farrington field, three o’clock sharp. I’ll see you there.”
“See me there?”
“Yes, Andaya, I’m the coach. Get ready to work your butt off today. No slackers are going to make my team.”
Chris nodded enthusiastically, then headed around the corner to the locker room door. After his shower, again as he was putting on his socks, Chris saw the pimply boy run into the sergeant’s office. He was smiling, which made Chris mad. He shouted out something to Sergeant Arroyo which made him smile as well. Again the two hugged and the boy ran off.
Football, yeah, thought Chris, I’m going to hit people.
At the end of the day, as he was headed up the road to Farrington High School, Chris noticed Denise sitting on a bench along College Walk. There was so sign of his nemesis.
“Howzit, Denise?” said Chris, taking a seat beside her.
“Oh, hi, Chris. Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah yeah, was g— it was good.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” said Denise.
“You too?” asked Chris.
“Oh, yes, today was very good. I love Mr. Tolentino, don’t you?”
Chris nodded and smiled. “Yeah, he’s great. I always liked my English teachers.”
“Me too,” said Denise. “English is one of my favorite classes. My mom and dad both majored in English at HU.”
“Wow,” said Chris. In his family, no one talked about college. No one even talked too much about graduating from high school. Chris was determined to do it. And college? Well, who knew what might happen?”
“So your dad,” said Chris, “he teaches English downtown someplace?”
Denise laughed, “Oh no. He’s a policeman.”
“Oh wow,” said Chris, instantly a little nervous. He’d never committed any crimes, but he knew plenty of people who had, even in his immediate family. One of his brothers was in prison for armed robbery. “What’s he do with English there?”
“Nothing,” said Denise, laughing, “but I bet he wishes he did. I hear him and my mom talking sometimes. I think he’d much rather be teaching English like she does. What do your parents do?”
Chris hesitated. “Well, I don’t know what my dad does. I don’t know where he is. I only have my mom. She works Waikīkī, the Moana Hotel. She cleans rooms.”
“Oh,” said Denise, noticing the sadness in Chris’s voice. She wasn’t sure if it were because of what his mother did, or that he didn’t know where his father was, or both.
Just then a black Ford sedan pulled up.
“Hey, Dini,” called the man from the driver’s seat. He leaned over and pushed open the door.
“Hey, Daddy.” She turned to Chris and gestured for him to follow her. “Daddy, this is my friend Chris.”
“Hey, Chris,” said David Chan. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too, sir,” said Chris, managing a small wave.
Denise closed the door. “Bye, Chris,” she said, waving to him from the window. “See you tomorrow.”
And with that, the Chans drove off. And with that, if he hadn’t been completely in love before, Chris knew he was totally in love now.
The walk to Farrington High School went by without him noticing much of it. When he arrived, he saw boys from all the Farrington feeder schools milling around. He recognized several of them and went over to say hello.
“Andaya!” called Sergeant Arroyo, “go get changed.”
Chris headed for the locker room, got back into his sweaty gym clothes, and came back out to the field. The afternoon turned out to be hell, but Chris hardly noticed. He was vaguely aware that he was doing as well as the best athletes on the field, but his head was mostly focused on Denise.
Had any kind of hitting gone on that first day, he wondered if he’d be as focused on her, or if he would be thinking of the pimply highjacker.
Lanning Lee 