The Next Day
Boreal's alarm rang, jolting him awake. Groaning, he reached out and switched it off.
The air in front of him rippled, and a translucent screen materialized.
"Good morning, Boreal," said Katie.
"Morning, Katie," he replied sleepily as he dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
"Would you like me to outline your schedule for today?" she asked.
"When I'm out," Brian replied.
Thirty minutes later, Boreal stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. Steam still lingered in the air as he walked up to the mirror and reached for his toiletries.
Suddenly, the holo-screen flickered to life.
The holo-screen popped up again.
"Katie, would you mind outlining my schedule?"
"You have classes scheduled for 9:00 a.m.," she replied.
"Okay."
Brian dressed in a black hoodie and black cargo trousers, picked up his bag, and exited the room. Following the stream of students, he eventually found his way to the classroom.
The building was multi-storey, with a lavishly decorated interior. Boreal walked down a fancy hallway, turned left, and stopped in front of a classroom. He leaned in, pressing his ear against the door to listen for voices.
Hearing the noise inside, he pushed the door open and stepped in.
The classroom instantly fell silent.
It was rectangular in shape, with desks arranged neatly in rows and columns of five. The teacher's desk sat beside the door. A whiteboard hung next to it, alongside an interactive whiteboard, and above them was an overhead projector.
Nineteen students… including me, Brian thought as he walked to a seat in the middle row.
He turned to his right and faced his seatmate.
"Hello," Brian said.
The boy had dark pink hair styled into a large afro, lightly trimmed into a round cut. His brown skin was slightly tanned. He wore a black T-shirt with the word cool written in dripping letters and black baggy joggers. His left ear was pierced, and two rings sat on his left hand—one on his index finger, the other on his middle finger.
"I'm Williams—Louis Williams," he said, offering a handshake.
"Brian. Brian Boreal," Brian replied, accepting it.
Williams squinted at him. "Your eyes are terribly huge—like they're bulging. Kinda reminds me of Benaiah. You've met him, right?"
"Brown hair?" Brian asked.
"Yeah, that's him. I called him a frog when we first met and he nearly murdered me," Williams said casually. "So I'll call you a fish. Um… Fishy."
Brian sighed. "Please, call me whatever you like."
Williams grinned. "So, you watch movies?"
"Sure. All kinds—except romance," Brian replied.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of another boy, who immediately caught Williams' attention.
Brian glanced at him. He had relaxed brown hair, brown skin, and brown eyes, and wore blue jeans with a plain blue T-shirt.
"You don't know who you're talking to," the boy said to Williams.
"Who? Brian?" Williams asked, confused.
"Miriam Boreal's younger brother," the boy replied.
Williams stared at Brian, startled.
"That's not possible," he said slowly, pursing his lips. He turned back to Brian. "Is that true, Fishy?"
Brian nodded.
"Fishy?" the boy echoed. "Is that what Williams named you?"
"You need to look us up," Williams smirked.
"Oh—I didn't introduce myself," the boy added. "I'm Raphael. Raphael Simon."
Before anyone could respond, the classroom door opened again and the conversation was cut short.
A professor walked in—a young man in his late thirties, he was clean-shaven with thick black sideburns. He wore a corporate brown suit. Without uttering a word, he walked straight to the board and wrote boldly:
MACHINE CODING LANGUAGEPROFESSOR MARK-TALL — INTRODUCTION.
The classroom remained silent as the lecture continued for the next five hours, lasting all the way until 2:35 p.m. When the bell finally rang, the lecturer walked out without a word.
"Quite the lecturer," Louis said as they exited the classroom. "Didn't even say a word."
Halfway down the stairs, two more students joined their group.
The first was tall—probably Paul from the court—but he introduced himself as Silas 'O' Marner. He had silky black hair with a hint of green, packed into a bun with two braided strands falling down the front. He wore a white hoodie and plain black joggers.
"I'm Brian," Boreal said, stretching out his hand.
"You're damn popular," Silas replied, shaking it.
"I know," Brian said simply.
The second guy raised an eyebrow before turning to face Brian.
"You're the Brian everyone's talking about," he sighed. "I'm a little disappointed in Benaiah and Pius—letting someone this short steal the spotlight."
"Huh? What did you say?" Brian asked calmly.
The boy smirked. His name was Mark-Joseph. He was dark-skinned, a blend of British and African-American features. His relaxed hair was styled in a round cut, brown on top with black sides. He wore a red hoodie, grey cargo trousers, high brown sneakers, and a gold chain.
"You don't look like a basketballer to me," Mark-Joseph added.
"What—are you asking for a challenge?" Brian replied.
"I'm not asking," Mark-Joseph said, nudging him. "I already know you don't stand a chance."
"Don't sweat it," Louis whispered. "That's just his personality."
Brian scratched his head, looking thoughtful, then turned back toward the classroom.
"Where are you going?" Silas asked.
"I forgot something. I'll catch up with you guys later," Brian replied, trotting back upstairs.
He pushed the classroom door open.
The room was empty—except for two people.
A boy stood near the desks, looking confused. He glanced left, then right, then left again, as if searching for something. He was slim, with black hair falling over his forehead like bangs. He wore an orange polo shirt, tightly fitted jeans, black moccasins, and clip-on earrings in both ears.
Looks like he wants to talk to her, Brian muttered to himself.
The girl stood by the board, lost in thought. She turned from the whiteboard to the projector screen, her confusion only deepening.
Brian studied her. She wore tight-fitted jeans that outlined her figure, a light blue vest that accentuated her fair skin, and her black curly hair fell just below her shoulders. Her brown eyes were fixed on the board.
"What's wrong with the two of you?" Brian asked. "You both look confused."
The boy sighed, heading for the door without replying. As he passed Brian, he muttered something under his breath and left.
Brian turned to the girl.
"What's up with you?"
"I can't seem to understand the program," she replied.
Brian walked up to the board and explained it step by step.
Her eyes suddenly lit up with excitement/;
"Oh! It's that simple," she said excitedly.
"I'm Sasha Brown, by the way."
"Brian," he replied with a small smile.
"Boreal," she interrupted, "you should stop with the introductions. You're already popular."
"I can't get used to this popularity stuff," Brian said as they walked out of the classroom.
"Don't say that. You're good in sports, academics… and you've got the highest S.Q among the first years."
"It's only a matter of time before all those titles get stripped off," Brian replied.
"Oh, puh-weeez," she said, stretching the word dramatically. "Show some enthusiasm. Ever heard of the I.S.A?"
"No."
"It's the International Students Association. A body of prefects that presides over the affairs of the school. Your game stats are used to determine if you're qualified to be a prefect or a member of the I.S.A."
"Meaning I'm taking the lead by a single step?" Brian asked.
"Wrong," she said confidently. "You've taken the lead by two steps."
"Two steps? How?"
"You don't have to understand it yet. You'll see for yourself."
She paused. "I wonder what's for lunch."
"How do you know all this?" Brian asked, a puzzled look on his face as they walked into the dining hall.
"Connections, Boreal. Connections," she replied.
Lunch was pasta with stew and a couple of meatballs.
"So, what do you know about Louis?" Sasha asked, picking up a meatball and popping it into her mouth.
"Louis? He's a great guy. Funny, a little troublesome. I can't really say much though—I just met him today."
"Oh… I see," she replied as a pink hue crept onto her cheeks.
"Did you just blush?" Brian asked.
"Um… no! I didn't!" she stammered.
"Oh, I get it," Brian said with a faint smile. "Louis is the kind of person who's free with everyone but can't face the one person he admires."
"You know," Sasha said softly, "we have the same personality."
"What do you mean?"
"Books can't define us. Same goes for personality quizzes," she added as they exited the dining hall.
"See you around, Most Social."
"Don't call me that," Brian replied as they parted ways.