1830 words (7 minute read)

One (3)

One (3)

Chance woke up on a Thursday. That was reasonable enough: yesterday was Wednesday, tomorrow Friday.

Thursday seemed the right place to be.

He stretched his trim body with a small yawn, fingers brushing the door frame as he limped to the antechamber: his shins were killing him again this morning. His clothes were already selected and neatly placed on a low table against one wall. They fit him perfectly, breathable fabrics designed for the maximum of comfort. They didn’t last long, but Chance didn’t know that: if they started to look abraded or worn, they were replaced. He had never worn anything of a lower quality to compare them to.

Looking over the itinerary that lay next to his clothes, he saw that Swimming would start the day, then breakfast; Music before lunch; then he had to fast, as it was his birthday. Everyone fasted on their birthday, to focus the mind for meditation and contemplation, which meant he got to skip classes this afternoon.

Chance felt himself blushing slightly – when he considered any big events from the recent past, a particular face came to mind and stayed. Doctor Hoggestrom had not been happy to hear Chance had been trying to sneak in to the girls dorms last week. To be fair, he had no choice: Fortune was too scared to try sneaking in to his room, so they had to go to hers!

He’d been given Mess Duties for the rest of the week, but it was a punishment that hardly fit the crime: he liked cooking, so he tried thinking of other places they could get caught. She was less enthusiastic than he was. He had decided to try talking to Fortune after Music to see if he couldn’t change her mind. Untalented as he was, Music was his favourite class. It was where he could spend time with Fortune, even if they couldn’t talk.

He put on the boots that Doc had brought him when he started complaining about the pain in his shins. Almost all the students wore them at some time, though not as late into their schooling as he had. They were necessary, but embarrassing: he tried going without them for a day, and didn’t make it past lunch. Just sitting, they were aching badly enough that he skipped taking a third plate of food just to go back to his room to put them on. He was hungry that afternoon, but it was worth it.

Grabbing the towel that had been hung for him by his door, he walked a little easier towards the pool, muttering to himself:

“So lamely and unfashionable that dogs bark at me as I halt by them.”

“WOOF!” shouted Lucky, who had been waiting outside Chance’s door. Chance smacked him with the towel.

“What are you doing, you goiter! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“You’re running late today. What’s up?”

“Love to be running anywhere,” Chance said. “My feet are killing me.”

Lucky grunted. He had heard Chance complain repeatedly over the past few months, and Chance appreciated that he never complained about it. He wasn’t always the most sympathetic listener, but he also never mocked him about having a growth spurt that started months later than almost everyone else in their year.

“At least it keeps you out of Lemke’s class,” he said. “I’d take broken legs in exchange for that!” Doctor Hoggestrom had decided Chance should avoid tennis or anything that involved running and moved him to swimming instead – at least until the pains in his legs stopped. They never did, and now he was going to graduate with special boots on, ones that everyone else finished with months earlier. He wondered if the pains ever would stop, and how that would affect his life outside the school. He’d have to ask at meditation.

Chance got to the music room early, hoping to see Fortune before class started, but she wasn’t there yet. He got his trumpet out of its case, walking as slowly as he could to his chair, head snapping up whenever the door opened. She played clarinet, several seats away from him, so once he sat down he’d have no excuse to be close to her until class was over, and that was an unbearably long time. But still she didn’t show, so he sat and assembled the brass tubes, playing with the keys until the teacher called for attention.

He risked a quick look sideways and Fortune was there. Her black, curly hair was kept back from her face with a white hairband, so he could not only see her full profile (including the full, strong lips he had so recently kissed!) but also all of the large, pale birthmark that started below one eye and went back to include half of her ear. He was fascinated by it, partially because it was so much lighter than the rest of her skin, and partially because she was embarrassed by it. Or had been, before. It took Chance a long time to convince her to let him touch it, and it was just as smooth as the rest of he skin, and then they kissed for the first time. So now it was beautiful, something he always knew.

She looked at him and smiled, mouthed ’Hi!’, then turned to the front of the class. He smiled back and turned as well. Miss Kaiser was saying something, but Chance was lost in memory. After that first kiss, he and Fortune met nearly every day, as often as they could: sometimes it was only for a couple of minutes in one of the washrooms. Eventually the teachers noticed, and they weren’t allowed to leave class at the same time any more, no matter what the excuse. So now they had only moments in halls when they thought they could get away with a quick kiss, or brushing hands when they thought they couldn’t. The last time they were together – the time that earned Chance mess duty for a week – she told him that her ear wasn’t the only place she had the birthmarks...

He blinked as a piece of chalk bounced off his forehead. Miss Kaiser was staring at him.

“I swear, Chance,” she was saying, “I have no idea why you are in this class. I’ve never had anyone who was as musically declined as you. You can barely read, you don’t work at improving, and half the time you’re too distracted to listen.” She had such a loud voice that Chance could never tell if she was angry, amused, or just speaking. “Is is too much to ask that you begin when the rest of us do? Let’s try that again.” She lifted her baton, and Chance brought the trumpet to his lips.

At least, he thought, she didn’t get me to stand up at the front of the class.

Fortune was waiting for him just outside the Music room door. They held hands and walked to her next class, as slowly as they could get away with. He didn’t have to be anywhere, as it was his lunch shift; but she had to go to Tennis, and Mister Lemke didn’t like to be kept waiting. He decided that now was the right time to tell her, while he still could.

“Hey,” he started.

“Uh huh,” she replied.

Knowing that he was graduating today had given him an eagerness, an urgency to tell her everything he could about everything he felt, but he never knew how. Finally, yesterday, he decided to use a quote from a book that he didn’t really like at first, but now he felt he understood. It was about a woman in China who loved a man who then went away and died before they could marry. He was angry at the story, and sad, and wanted it to have a happy ending; but now he thought it could be beautiful.

“Love,” he said. “Love.”

He felt her hand tighten on his.

“Uh huh,” she said.

“Love is a... a many-splendoured thing” he said.

She stopped and turned to him.

“What?” she said.

“Uh, many. Uh. Splendoured thing.” She was smiling, but immediately brought one hand up to hide it. “What?” he asked.

Her shoulders started to shake and she let go of his hand, waving it in front of herself. He didn’t know how she’d react to the line, but his was NOT what he was hoping for! He felt himself redden as she fanned the air with one hand and held back laughter with the other.

“It’s a line from a book! It’s really good!” He was getting angry now, which was stupid, but why was she laughing? Why did she have to laugh? Chance had quite enough of this. If he didn’t want to take his feelings seriously, he would just leave.

Fortune looked at him long enough to gasp air before she doubled over, weakly grabbing at one of his arms.

“No!” she said. “No, no. Not you. It’s not you.” He weakly tried to pull his arm free, but she grabbed with with the other one and gave it a hug, laughing into his shoulder, so he stayed.

Then she panted until she caught her breath, and explained what she was laughing about.

“You,” Chance said, smacking his lunch tray down beside Lucky, “are a total dick. Total.”

Lucky looked up with innocent eyes.

“You do me an injury, sir! What warrants this baseless accusation?”

“You went and told her,” said Chance, cramming food into his mouth. “You told her what I was going to say.”

“I did no such thing,” Lucky replied.

“She told me so just now!”

“That’s what she told you,” said Lucky. “What I did was walk up to her in the hall this morning and say: ’Remember! Love is a monkey-splattered thing!’ She seemed a bit confused at the time, but I trust it all makes sense to her now.”

“Total,” said Chance. “Total dick.”

Next Chapter: One (4)