Tina Chan: imperfect

“Kristi Shea,” Kristi said to the girl behind the reception desk.

“ID?” The receptionist held out her hand for some form of identification.

Kristi pulled up her ID page on her electro-slate and allowed the girl to scan the barcode.

“Your bike is in garage five,” the receptionist said.

Kristi found Mechanic Leo organizing tools in garage five. She rubbed her arms; the chilly air being blown onto her from the overhead air conditioner stimulated goose bumps to run up and down her arm.

Mechanic Leo set down the wrench he was holding and wheeled Kristi’s hydro-bike over and gave a quick report. “I replaced both of the tires and the seat. I also gave the bike a quick weather-proof seal of paint.”

Kristi grasped the memory foam handles of the bike. “Thank you. How much for the repairs?”

“A hundred and fifty points.”

She wired the points to Mechanic Leo’s account and thanked him again.

Kristi headed to the stables in her backyard as soon as she parked her bike in the garage. Of course, there were no real horses in the stable because that would be silly; nobody wants to clean up the mess real horses make. Flurry, a droid-horse Kristi had received for her tenth birthday, peered at her with mocha-brown eyes.

“Good to see you again.” She fondly stroke Flurry’s face. “Wish I could stay longer, but I have to go. I promise I’ll take you for a ride right after I finish my homework.”

Kristi gave Flurry one last scratch on the withers then left for the library.

Troop had never particularly enjoyed chemistry class, and he wasn’t enjoying it now either. The only reason why I haven’t fallen asleep yet is because Jennifer is in this class. As if hearing his thought, Jennifer twisted around in her seat and flashed Troop a smile.

Her silky, chestnut hair cascaded impeccably past her shoulders. Although Jennifer had shown interest in Troop for a while, he’d never considered her to be more than a friend.

She tapped her electro-slate, letting him know she’d sent him an instafication.

“Jennifer,” Mr. Brunes, the chemistry teacher, said. “Since I am sure you have your complete attention on my class, please tell me the name and number of valence electrons of the newly discovered element made by Dr. Snyders last week.”

“Name: Novium. Number of valence electrons: eight,” replied Jennifer without missing a beat.

Troop tilted his electro-slate so that Mr. Brunes couldn’t see his screen. Then he opened up the instafication from Jennifer:

Chem is such a bore. Want to hang out at Eden’s Park after school today?

Troop slid a sideways glance to make sure Mr. Brunes was occupied with some other student before replying:

Sorry, but I can’t. I promised to hang out with my guys today at the indoor snowboarding center. You can come if you want.

He looked up to see Jennifer cast him a pout. Fortunately, the bell rang, saving Troop from having to deal with Jennifer’s puppy-dog looks. She was so damn adorable when she used her full-on persuasive powers; Troop sometimes found it hard to say “no” to her requests.

“What’s up?” Darrel, Troop’s right hand man, met him at the door.

He gave Troop what he considered to be a light punch to the shoulder. However, because Darrel was built like a linebacker, the punch really wasn’t light at all. Troop masked his wince from the blow though; he had a reputation to maintain at Ludus High.

“Chem with Brunes,” said Troop.

Darrel made a face. “Tough class.”

“Not so much as tough as mind-numbing.”

“Tompkins was looking for you. Said he found the perfect person for VicDay.”

VicDay. It was a day Troop both loathed and loved at the same time. It was a monthly event started by him, so there was no one else to blame but himself. But it was a necessary event—something that couldn’t be skipped.

“I’ll see Tompkins at Shawn’s Snowboard Center after school today. He can tell me the person’s name then,” Troop said.

“Jennifer’s still hounding after you.” Darrel jerked a thumb in her direction. “She’s ogling you from across the hall. Never mind—she just looked away.”

“Just drop it. I already made it clear to Jenn I don’t want to date her.”

Darrel snorted. “Why, is she not good enough for you? Honestly, I can’t figure out why you haven’t picked a girl yet. I swear, more than half the girls at Ludus are willing to cut off their arm if that meant they could go out with you.”

Troop suppressed a sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m just not interested in a relationship. I have to go to World Studies class now. See you later, alright?”

Darrel gave Troop another friendly punch then headed into the chemistry lab. Troop turned away from Jennifer, feeling her eyes bore through his back like lasers, then strode through the crowded hallways. He didn’t have to shoulder his way through the crowd, though; most of the students parted before him, acknowledging their place on the social hierarchy.

A few members of Troop’s faction exchanged curt greetings; a brisk nod here, a high-five there. It was good to be king.

Some students regarded Troop with reserved respect; others threw themselves at his feet, hoping to brownnose their way into his circle. However, every so often, Troop would spot a student look at him with dread burning bright in their eyes. It was these students Troop’s conscience often bothered him about. After all, it was his fault that they feared him. Better to be the hunter than the hunted. Troop extinguished his guilty conscience like a candle being blown out.

R-i-i-n-n-g.

Two minutes until the next period started. The World Studies classroom was in the opposite wing of the chemistry lab. The fact that Ludus High was a massive school didn’t help. Troop sped up and crossed into the classroom just as the final bell rang.

There was an empty desk in the back corner of the room. Troop grinned to himself. That was his seat and others knew better than to take it. Not unless they wanted the rest of the school year to be pure misery; Troop’s gang had that type of power. It never ceased to amaze Troop how the right connections could make the difference between being the alpha or the omega.

He slid into his designated seat and promptly tuned out the lesson being taught on the smart-screen. He could always swipe the key points of today’s lesson from Darrel later.

Flipping on his electro-slate, Troop saw that Jennifer had sent him three more instafications.

Want to come over to my place after snowboarding?

I got some new music I know you will like.

Okay, are you just going to ignore me? Fine. Be that way.

Typical Jennifer, thought Troop. He typed back a reply:

Jenn, I’m not ignoring you—I just don’t check my inbox every other second of the day. Like I said before, you can come along to Shawn’s Snowboard.

Troop lazily took a few bullet points’ worth of note. When he returned to the home screen of his slate, Jennifer had already answered his message.

Nah. I’ve never been good at snowboarding. I guess my parents were too cheap to code some snowboarding skills into my DNA.

Troop didn’t bother to reply Jennifer informing her athletic skills couldn’t be genetically coded.

He started to reply but got interrupted—another instafication from Jennifer. He began to wonder if he should block her from his contact list.

It’s Maya, isn’t it?

Troop creased his forehead and typed back a message:

Who the heck is Maya?

Jennifer’s reply:

Don’t pretend you don’t know her. She’s the girl with blue eyes, black hair…good snowboarder. You’re meeting her after school today, aren’t you?