Chapter 1 – Part I Weakness

It was when times were simpler. A pleasant Tuesday morning where the sun rays pierced through the glass window and brightened the orange walls of my room.

I placed my violin into its case—on top of my bed—and closed it. Then I took a step back from the bedside.

Wristwatch: check. Perfume: check. Matching pair of...

“Hurry Violet!” I heard my dad’s bark from downstairs, interrupting my ongoing mental checklist.

“Coming!” I cried as I shoved my cell phone into my pant pocket. I zipped my backpack, strapped it over my shoulders, grabbed the violin case and rushed downstairs; sporting a long-sleeved, crimson-colored, boat neck T-shirt, along with a pair of knee-ripped jeans and sneakers.

“Sorry sorry,” I said, seeing my dad waiting by the door, holding on to his car keys and a leather briefcase; he was wearing his usual immaculate gray suit. “I really thought that jerk was gonna give me a ride today.”

He giggled in response and turned to the door. “Right.”

A short drive later...

Our white BMW took a turn, entering the all-too-familiar gateway. I nonchalantly glanced out the window at the giant arch above the main gate, where the university name—E.G. Millennia—was engraved in bright golden hue; it has always been eye-catching.

Our college has a pleasantly different campus environment, which I’m fond of. Being very spacious, paved roads branched everywhere within the campus. It’s also a green place; trees and gardens are almost everywhere.

...

After passing a satisfying amount of greenery, we took the first left turn and parked the car right outside my dad’s—the dean’s—office. It showcased his name, Ray Harrelson, on the door, right above his various degrees; all welldeserved, given how much hard work he had put into it while raising me alone into a non-disappointing offspring.

Stepping out of the car, I gave him a quick hug and bolted to our campus Newspaper club.

...

I reached the building, only a short distance away from the main gates. And took the elevator to the first floor and opened the door to the Newspaper club. The room was expectedly busy despite being so early in the morning, which mostly had to do with the fact that our newspaper—Zenith—is the most popular campus newspaper in the entire city of Laho.

Ignoring the crowd, I scanned the room for a familiar face... “Laura!” I called out to the young woman in the distance, walking towards her—the club President’—assigned office. She sported a pair of mustard-colored leggings and a matching cardigan over her striped black shirt that matched her shoes.

As the President of our Newspaper club, Laura is in charge of almost everything. She decides which stories and articles to publish in Zenith, and on which page. Also, being a professor in the Department of Management Accounting, she has the necessary skills and knowledge to manage such a significant club.

“Brilliant!” Laura exclaimed in her thick British accent, as she approached me. “I have an assignment for you this—”

“Yeah yeah, first tell me where’s V,” I rudely interrupted, which she didn’t mind. She was used to such rude gestures within the Newspaper club, especially from—V—Victor.

“Wish I knew,” she returned. “That jerk and his team haven’t posted a story in over two weeks. Apparently, the readers can’t seem to go on without gossips and scandals for over two bloody weeks. I reckon he must be somewhere outside. Ask him to meet me when you see him.”

I didn’t even acknowledge her with a response as I turned to leave the room. Then she resumed loudly. “Oh and by the way, you have a live report to do this Friday; Joey will be your cameraman. Get the details when you're free.”

I halted in place, before walking back towards her; I could swear my anxiety raised a little. “With him? This Friday? I'd rather do it with a starving hound... if I wasn’t busy.”

“He’s not that bad. And I checked your schedule, you have no good excuses.”

“Not that bad? That thirsty lunatic creeps around everything he finds attractive; I’m pretty sure I’m in his top ten list of, ‘girls I wanna sleep with.’ Besides, Sugar’s birthday is a good enough excuse, don’t you think?”

“No, I do not think. You’re definitely doing this report because everyone else has actual things to do. Including Joe, he agreed despite that.”

I stood quietly, thinking for a good excuse. But taking my brief silence as agreement, she smirked and strolled back to her office. Squinting my eyes at her, I trailed behind.

...

After getting the details from Laura, I dropped off my backpack and violin case on the desk in my cubicle. I was about to leave the room when Joey showed up.

Oh, give me a break!

He sported his usual style of clothing: a tight short-sleeved T-shirt to showcase his muscular frame, and a pair of casual jeans to go along with it. “Vi! I’ve been waiting for you,” he spoke loudly.

I let out a blunt sigh and responded without making eye contact. “I'm terrified to ask ‘why.’ But still, why?”

“New poem time!”

I rolled my eyes while mentally preparing for some cringe-fest. “I should really go now and I'm assuming, you're not gonna let me.”

“Aw, you know me so well,” he dug into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “You're gonna love this.”

“I certainly hope not,” I muttered.

Ignoring that comment, he began to read off that paper. “My dear, your straight dark hair. My dear, your celestial skin. My dear, your ankle-revealing tear. I would swear you were made by a lover with my mind in heaven. You attract every living thing, but your purpose was to find me, accept me... and take me,” he paused to look at my reaction, which was obviously an expression of contempt. “For the record, that last line almost made me cry when I wrote it.”

I guess calling that ‘cringe’ would be a massive understatement. I shook my head. “Unbelievable—wait a sec, how’d you know that I was gonna wear this pair of jeans today? Joe, please tell me I don’t have to call the cops.”

“Uh...” he stared at me with a nervous smile.

“No!”

“Just kiddin’,” he laughed. “I wrote different versions of the poem. There’s one for short skirt, long skirt and—my personal favorite—bikini, which I knew was unlikely but was kinda hoping for it. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Oh, I get it now! How many girls did you hit on today?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You always see through me, Vi. Well so far, three including you and one of ‘em actually liked it. She was really hot too, rockin’ that short skirt.”

I shook my head again as I muttered, “Unbelievable.”

...

Shrugging off that creepy—but unfortunately common—occurrence, I continued on my quest to find Victor; now for a different and more important reason. I roamed through the green campus for several minutes until I finally found his team—the ‘Unveil squad,’ if you will—lazily hanging out in the campus football stadium. Victor, however, was not among them, which raised questions since he shows close to zero interest in sports and sports-related activities.

I also noticed his black backpack lying on the bench. And on top of it, was a fresh packet of Cream and Onion flavored Lays. It’s well-known among us—the squad and I—that he is obsessed with that particular snack.

“Since when did Unveil start writing stories on sports?” I spoke loudly to get their attention since it was already noisy with the coach training the football team in the middle of the field.

Julia—one of the Unveil members, my classmate, and a close friend—was the first to acknowledge me. “Vi!” she sprung up from the stadium bench, overjoyed to see me. Revealing her cute sleeveless pink top and jean shorts, she launched at me with a big hug.

I was no stranger to her overreaction; in fact, I’ve always adored it. Her overzealous personality has been around long enough to have earned her the nickname, ’sugar.’

I hugged her back tightly before letting go. “Where’s V?” I asked the remaining two squad members: Casper and Krishna. I was not overly close to either of them, but we still often conversed as they spend most their time with Victor: the head of Unveil. Majoring in Criminology, Casper and Krishna both have their significance in Unveil.

“He was here couple minutes ago, reading my ‘Crime and Society’ textbook,” answered Casper, laying down on the bench right below the one where Krishna was sitting. Casper continued, “Then he got up and left without saying a word. So yeah, nothing unusual to report.”

It’s true, none of what he said was unusual to us. Not even the fact that he has the weird habit of reading through whatever textbook he gets his hands on. Whether it be Casper and Krishna’s Criminology related books, or mine and Julia’s Psychology related ones. Moreover, he majors in Computer Applications. And despite spending very less time in his own class, studying his own subjects, his grades never drop below average.

“Hum... so, any of you know when he’ll be back?”

Before any of them could respond, I heard the familiar cold voice behind me. “What do you want?”

I turned around to see Victor approaching us. He sported his usual set of clothes: a full sleeved white V-neck torso on the outside with a black round neck on the inside, that was partially visible below his neck—covering his collar bones—and a pair of black jeans that matched his sneakers.

Apart from his outfit, he has a lanky appearance with especially long limbs. He also has long messy black hair, smooth skin that’s almost as pale as mine is, and he walks maintaining a stiff chin-up posture.

Before I go any further, it’s important to clarify our relationship at the time.

Yes, we're certainly close. But no, he isn’t my boyfriend. We're involved in almost every other way besides ‘romantically,’ but he’s not a boyfriend material.

So to say the least, we're best—bestest—friends. There’s nobody else who I'm as close to, as I am to Victor. Does that mean I want him as my boyfriend, regardless?

Let’s just say if he were to ask me out, I wouldn’t know what to say.

Two years ago...

I first saw him when I first set foot in our Newspaper club. Literally, the first step I took inside the room, he was there in front of me, waiting in line for Laura to finalize our applications.

We were very different personalities. Raised in an orphanage, he would always prefer to be alone without having to depend on anybody; therefore, never got along with anyone. While I, however, was always in need of people around me. And with my great looks and cheerful personality, I easily achieved that.

So it must come as a surprise, how in two years, we became the bestest of friends. It started when I officially met him for the second time; as our first meeting was basically a getting-on-each-other’s-nerves contest. I was going through a rough break up with my ex-boyfriend at that time. Most of my friends tried and failed to help me through it. But Victor was the only one, brave enough to approach—me—a depressed sobbing girl, call her an idiot, tell her to suck it up and go home. Maybe not in those exact words but I certainly remember him calling me an ‘idiot,’ more than once.

He was still a jerk back then—maybe more so than now—especially towards me. He would drive me away every time I attempted to talk to him. But don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t desperate for him in any way; in fact, I hated him just as much as he hated me. We used to fight like Cat and Mouse, every chance we got. And that happened a lot because, for some reason, there frequently came times, where we had to put up or depend on each other. I don’t want to call it something cliché like ‘fate,’ but there isn’t a better word to describe it. We constantly pulled together like opposing poles of two magnets despite how much we hated each other.

It’s due to those constant moments, I soon realized he was much more than what he appeared to be. Being exceptionally smart, he—whether intentionally or not—helps people with their problems, in a way that makes a huge difference. But not in a way that got him a ’thank you’ letter.

By the time, our first semester ended through all the childish bickering, Victor and I had become really attached. It was then with my help—my dad’s influence—he created his own section in the Newspaper club dedicated to investigative journalism. Unveil quickly grew to become the biggest reason why our campus newspaper is at the top of its class.

Now...

As he got close enough to hear me, I spoke. “V, I have a favor to ask–”

“It can wait,” he calmly interrupted as he leaned forward beside me to pick up the fresh pack of Lays along with his backpack. “We have a case,” he continued. “That bulky idiot on the field,” he pointed down towards the north-west direction, “look at him and tell me what you see.”

He strapped his backpack over one shoulder, tore the chip bag and began munching, while the Unveil squad rose and approached the—second tier—railing; right in front of them. I casually dug into his packet and stole a few chip flakes myself, before joining the observation.

We all—except Victor—raised our necks to see the muscular dude in a sports outfit, training extremely hard in the corner of the field. There was also a pretty girl—presumably, his sister—sitting on the bench closest to him; the front row of the bottom tier. She watched him with slight concern as he continued to train, enduring his exhaustion.

Another noticeably strange thing was that his physique looked way tougher and stronger than how he acted on the field. It might have been because he was exhausted, but it was still odd. “His sister seems pretty concerned,” I stated. “Maybe he has some kinda weakness—a health problem perhaps?”

Though I wasn’t a part of Unveil, I was still fairly perceptive. I suppose that’s because I had been around Victor for so long. “Not a bad conclusion,” said Victor, still munching on his chips. “But don’t you think she should be more concerned if she knows he has a health problem?”

Krishna then interjected with his Indian accent. “Are you then saying his sister doesn’t know he has a health issue? Although, he does?”

“I don’t know. The guy is really fit but is unable to make it through the fitness test; he obviously can’t join the team otherwise. He has five more days before the game, and less than two days before someone else takes his place as the last team member,” he put another chip into his mouth. “Find out if something’s wrong with him or if someone’s trying to ruin his passion for football.”

Following his orders, the squad left the stadium. “So V, as I was saying,” I turned to Victor, only to see him calmly ignoring me and walking away. “V!”

He crushed and threw the finished chip bag into the nearby trash bin. “Forget it,” he didn’t stop walking. “I'm not going to Sugar’s birthday party.”

“I don’t want you to!” I replied, acknowledging which, he halted and turned around.

“Go on.”

“Actually at first, I did come to convince you to attend the party. Then I thought, why should you? But V, I still have to attend that birthday party, don’t you agree? Because Sugar is my classmate, as well as my friend—"

“Get to the point!”

“I have a live report to do on Friday,” I spilled. “With the buff and hairy Vince Masuka. See the problem?”

“You want me to take your place in reporting the fresher’s party, alongside Joe?” it didn’t even take him a second to decode that.

“Yes! Pretty please?” I attempted to make an innocent puppy face.

He continued to walk away without a word. “Oh come on V,” I trailed behind him. “I need your help. Everyone else has... a social life.”

“Flattering, but my answer is still ‘no.’ I hate parties all the same. Birthday party or fresher’s party, I’m not going!”

I knew it would be pointless and embarrassing if I continued pleading any further, so I decided to take a forceful approach. Letting out a deep sigh, I said, “Fine then! If you won’t take my place, I will make you.”

“Not unless you have a mind-controlling scepter hidden up your butt. So, leave me alone.”

Frowning, I began scheming for a plan to get my way with him. Though it’s not easy to force him to do anything, I had two years worth of experience with the jerk. He doesn’t submit to blackmail or even tickletorture. But he loves to play games, and by extension, winning at them.

With that said, I knew just what to do.

At the Newspaper club...

Upon seeing Victor and I step in, Laura immediately jogged towards us. “V! I reckon you have a new story for me.”

“I have a new case,” he replied nonchalantly, not even looking at her. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready to be a story,” and then proceeded to his cubicle.

“Wait a second. I want a story published in tomorrow’s newspaper! Will it be done by today?”

“No promises,” he settled down by his desk and booted the computer.

Laura sighed, shaking her head. “Get me a story by today or I'm forwarding all the complaints and requests to your email, got it?”

She turned and was about to leave when Victor suddenly called out to her. “That’s a new dress.”

Surprised, she paused for a second. She turned around, blushing with a visible smile. “Thank you for noticing.”

“Hard not to, it looks horrible,” he calmly commented and faced away, while everyone around us—myself included—started to laugh at his insensitive remark.

“Jerk,” she muttered before walking away.

About 20 minutes later...

I almost fell asleep, sitting beside Victor while leaning back in my chair that I had dragged from a nearby empty cubicle. I was blankly staring and scrolling through my Instagram page, while he was busy with his semester assignment on the computer; working on some complex java program. Though I had my eyes fixed on my phone screen, my mind was still scheming.

“What are you still doing here?” Victor questioned all of a sudden, not facing away from the monitor screen.

“Swimming,” I returned sarcastically. “Wanna join?”

He ignored the diversion and turned to face me. “You’ve been staring at the same page for the past ten minutes. If you were bored, you would rather spend time with your million other friends than sit here idly. Which means you're not bored, which means... you're scheming, aren’t you?”

I expected him to be so skeptical, which made it easier for me to maintain my unsurprised facial expression. “I'm not reporting the fresher’s party!” He declared firmly. “Withhold any stupid things you’ve planned in your head.”

A smug smile managed to peek into my face, which I managed to hide by biting my lower lip. I remained quiet until a second later; the Unveil squad barged into the room. Krishna spoke as soon as he got closer to the cubicle. “Uh, V—”

“Let’s take it outside,” Victor interrupted. “If the President sees us, she’ll start talking again.”

...

As soon as he exited the room, I pocketed my phone after setting it to Airplane mode. Which had nothing to do with my plan, rather it was just a habit of mine, that I had gotten used to because of the annoying amount of notifications I receive every second; being a popular girl had its ups and downs.

I began to search his desk drawers for a Swiss Army Knife; I had seen him work and play with it a few times. Soon enough, I found it in the bottom drawer. Pulling out its screwdriver tool, I began loosening the spindles and the armrests of his chair. Since his cubicle was fairly secluded, I had no suspicious eyes watching me.

...

Once done, I placed the knife back in its place, moved my chair—that I was sitting on—back to the nearby cubicle, and walked out of the room. I saw Victor and the squad, right outside, discussing the additionally acquired information on the football player. “...so he’s really depressed,” Julia was explaining. “And he’s also—”

“Wait,” Victor stopped her and turned to me. “Why are you here?”

“I got tired of swimming,” I shrugged, to which he glared at me suspiciously. “Relax! I’m just curious about the football dude’s case.”

“His name is Jacob, by the way,” Casper mentioned, after which, Victor gestured for Julia to continue.

“Yeah as I was saying, he’s depressed and really wants to get into this game. His sister says that he has always loved football—passionate, actually. And he really has no health problems. He got worried and checked with the doctor only recently.”

Krishna chimed in. “His sister is the only one supporting him in the campus. No friends and no close relatives. And since he was last in line to take the test, he must have had time to relax. So we can rule out fatigue.”

“I think he might consider quitting if he can’t pass the test again,” Casper added. “He’s realized that his passion for football is meaningless.”

Julia was clearly opposed to that statement. “That’s crazy. I mean, he’s really fit and healthy. He’s on this nutritional diet and some other... there’s just no reason for him to be weak.”

“Maybe his depression is causing this,” I interjected. “Basic psychology: he thinks he’s a failure, he fails. It’s his mindset we need to correct.”

“If that’s the case, then he wouldn’t have failed the first test,” said Victor following which, there was a short pause. He contemplated until, “I think maybe he’s not as healthy as he thinks. Who prepares his meals?”

“His sister is old enough, but probably his mother,” Julia assumed.

“Maybe his family is not as supportive as he thinks. If his weakness connects to his food, then it would explain why the doctor’s check-up ruled out all sorts of health problems. Because lucky for him, his family is nice enough to not permanently harm him in any way. His food might only be a temporary destroyer of his potential... confirm it.”

“Confirm how, exactly?” Casper ridiculed. “You want us to ask his sister if she or her mother is poisoning him!?”

“No, ask him, privately. Either his family is supportive or pretending to be supportive.”

Without letting the squad argue any further, he walked back inside. The squad wasn’t satisfied with his theory, but they knew him well enough to understand his lack of boundary; also its significance.

Noticing the squad walk away—back to the football stadium—I quickly reacted to stop them as I whispered, “Wait.”

I made them stay beside me while I stood behind the closed door, focusing on the noises inside. “What?” Casper was just as puzzled as the other two.

“Shh, wait for it.”

Thump! “Fff... dammit!” Victor’s groan echoed from inside, along with a few laughs from the spectators.

I cracked up uncontrollably while gesturing the squad to follow me down the stairs before Victor could step out with murderous intent. They trailed behind me, chuckling upon realizing what I had done.

I won’t lie. I was proud of myself to have successfully implemented a practical joke on Victor, the success rate for which was less than 40%. But I would’ve lingered on that accomplishment a bit longer if I wasn’t curious about Jacob’s case. Because, when I considered the possibility that Jacob’s family might actually be against his passion, I couldn’t imagine what Jacob’s reaction would be like when he finds it out. Obviously, I was curious... also, concerned.

Chapter 1 – Part II Weakness

Jacob was still training apprehensively in that same corner of the field, even though the actual football team and the coach had already left. Following Victor’s instruction, the squad went straight to him for a private chat, while I approached his sister. Sitting in the front row, she was busy staring into her phone.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I asked in a calm and gentle tone, taking my seat beside her.

She instantly recognized me. With a wide smile, she answered, “Jasmine, Jasmine Jarrett.”

“I suppose we can skip my introduction.”

“You’re like the most popular living thing around here”—she placed her phone down on the bench—“so, yeah.”

“Anyway, I heard about your brother. I figured you’d want someone to talk to.”

Her smile gradually disappeared. “He’s losing confidence. I think he’s close to quitting now.”

I sat quietly for a second without acknowledging that statement. “I believe he’s eating fine. Who prepares his meals?”

“Our mama.”

“Okay,” I silently took a deep breath. “So tell me, is she somehow against... you know, football—” I stopped abruptly, startled by Victor’s sudden appearance. He walked past me, grabbed the half-empty bottle of energy drink beside Jasmine—on the bench—and took a big gulp right in front of her. “Hey!” Jasmine snarled, frowning at his manners. Her intolerance was of course, ignored.

I noticed him slightly limping from the earlier prank and I let out a blunt snort, which earned me a sharp glare from him as he sat down beside Jasmine. “Who’s this?” she asked me.

“Oh yeah. Jasmine, meet the jerk in charge of Unveil; Victor.”

“Praises aside,” Victor started in his regular flat tone. “Since when did your mama start poisoning your brother?”

I immediately brought my palm across my face. Shocked by his question, Jasmine barked. “You on crack!?”

“He’s getting weaker and slower,” he placed the energy drink back and picked up the Tupperware—lunch box—right next to it. As he opened it and grabbed an entire sandwich, “I think your mother might not be—” “Wrong!” she snatched the lunch box away from his hand.

She continued with her stern eyes fixed on Victor. “Our mama’s the most supportive woman you’ll ever meet. Makes no sense you’d accuse her like this.”

Taking a big bite from the sandwich—that he was holding—Victor silently contemplated for a second. Then putting the half-eaten sandwich on top of the lunch box, he rose from the bench and walked away. Jasmine scowled at his insolence while I still had my palm over my face.

Lifting my head, I saw him approaching the fatigued Jacob who was already speaking to the Unveil squad. “Get up!” Victor raised his voice with a gesture, demanding Jacob to step into the field with him. “I want you to charge at me with everything you got!”

“Huh?” Jacob was baffled; so was everyone else. I anxiously got off the bench and jogged towards Victor.

“V!?” I called him out, and then shifted to a mildly sarcastic tone as I got close to him. “You didn’t hit your head when you fell off your chair, did you?”

Ignoring me, he gestured at Jacob again. “Come on! I haven’t got all day.”

“You sure about this man?” asked Jacob as he stood up, slightly concerned.

“You’re too weak to be showing concern, just charge at me!”

Realizing it was hard to change his mind, Jacob stepped into the field. He stood a fair distance away from Victor, while the rest of us reluctantly stood back and observed. “Alright man, here I come,” Jacob announced... and dashed towards Victor.

I’m not sure if Victor was even a little concerned for his bones, but I certainly was. Knowing him, he can be reckless at times and it’s nearly impossible to see what goes on in his crazy head.

And that opinion didn’t change when the impact threw him meters away like a baseball shot off a cannon. It was in that split second, all of us rushed to his aid. “What did you expect, V?” I muttered while sprinting towards him.

I reached him before everyone else except Jacob, who was already standing there, not knowing how to react. Kneeling down beside Victor and examining him, I noticed he was bleeding from his right elbow and below his right cheekbone. It took a few seconds before he was conscious enough to sit up straight on the dirt; and by that time, we were all standing around him.

“You okay man?” Jacob worried.

“You idiot! You held back.”

“You’re lucky he did asshole!” Jasmine had that same scowl on her face.

Letting out a quiet grunt, Victor looked at Jacob and stated, “Regardless, you're not weak by any stretch.”

At the university clinic...

Victor’s injuries were only minor and the nurse worked fast, applying antiseptic and dressing his wounds. “I must admit V, it kinda felt good watching you get tossed like a generic bad guy in a Bollywood movie,” mocked Casper while Victor’s cheek-wound was being treated.

“He’s definitely not weak and neither am I,” Victor started. “At least not more than I already am. So it’s not the family and he’s not actually weak, then why did he fail the test?”

“But we saw it ourselves,” said Krishna, “he was weak when he was training and—”

“Wait a sec,” Casper interrupted. “You're suddenly convinced it’s not the family? I mean I’m glad that you are, but you don’t change your mind that easily V.”

Casper’s question definitely sparked some curiosity among us as we all rotated our necks in unison, facing Victor. To which, he returned a sigh and began to explain. “Well, since none of us knew his true potential, it was impossible to test if he was actually weak. However, I'm well aware of my own athletic abilities. So, I ate his food and drank his drink, then tested not his, but my own abilities.

“Not only did I learn my previous assumption was wrong: about his food being drugged. But he’s also not weak. Though I had no threshold to measure his current ability with, I’m certain that he’s not ‘weak.’ The way he is now, he’s already well above average, but somehow he becomes weak while practicing. Which leads to my question: why? Why can’t he pass those tests despite being fully capable?”

Following a brief silence where we all contemplated for an answer, Victor spoke out. “It would only make sense if he were depressed.”

“Wait,” I was quick to react. “We ruled that—you ruled that out because then he couldn’t have failed the first time. Are you saying he was already depressed to begin with?”

“He’s not fully out of confidence yet,” Julia interjected. “We talked to him and he said he’s going to give it one last attempt when the coach gets back.”

“So, now what?” asked Casper. “We give him some therapy or something? Because, if he fails again he’ll surely quit.”

Victor didn’t answer that. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘gets back’? Where did the coach go?” and as none of them had a certain answer, “go and find out,” he instructed sternly.

On the way back to the Newspaper club...

“Just a reminder, I'm still not going to the fresher’s party,” Victor spoke while walking alongside me on the deserted road; the on-campus paved road. “Nothing has changed.”

I barely even reacted. “Guess I'm gonna have to do better than—” I suddenly felt something in the way of my foot, that made me trip and fall to the ground; uninjured.

“That makes us even,” I heard his voice, as he stopped in front of me where I could see his feet. “At least for now,” I noticed a familiar smirk as he extended his arm towards me.

Call me ‘weird,’ for I had a similar grin on my face as I latched on to his hand and got back up. This should make things clear, how much I’ve gotten used to Victor in 2 years. It was almost as if I might be the only one in this universe, eligible to tolerate and have him as a friend, let alone ‘best friend.’

...

Immediately after stepping into the Newspaper club, Laura spotted us, especially Victor with his injuries. “Should I ask what happened?”

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” he calmly brushed past her to his cubicle.

“He got rammed by the Juggernaut,” I chuckled, trailing behind.

“I reckon he deserved it.”

“He literally asked for it,” I corrected, laughing as he sat down on his—new and unbroken—seat.

I dragged another chair from the neighboring cubicle, subtly made sure it had no intentionally loosened screws, and sat down on it after. Laura shook her head, wearing a smile. “You're unbelievable. So then, what about your case?”

“My case can progress just fine without you bothering me. So get lost before I make another comment about your pathetic outfit.”

“Alright, jeez! Calm down,” she finally figured it might be a good idea to stay away from him.

Over 15 minutes later...

The squad returned. “The head coach is George Cooper,” Krishna reported as he approached the cubicle. “He went home a few hours ago.”

“Why?” I questioned.

Julia said, “Nobody seems to really know. Nobody noticed anything weird with him, or displaying any symptoms of running a fever.”

“Who told you he went home?” Victor inquired.

“Nobody in particular,” said Casper. “He isn’t anywhere in the campus and most of the players saw him leave.”

“I have good reason to suspect he isn’t at home,” he countered. “Go and check.”

“Yeah but, I don’t think his personal information is publicly on display,” Casper mentioned sarcastically.

Letting out a big sigh, Victor then turned to me. He didn’t say anything since it was clear he needed me to collect the information from my dad’s office. He turned back to his team and calmly voiced, “All of you get out for a minute.”

The obeying squad gave each other a familiar look and left us alone.

...

I’ll skip over the details because I'm not fully sure as to how I won that verbal battle against him. In summary, he started to negotiate with me and it continued until I—somehow—won! Apparently, solving a case is more important to Victor than sitting out the fresher’s party.

And so, I left to the dean’s office with a wide self-satisfied grin stuck on my face.

Asking my dad for such information happened more often than not with these—Unveil—cases. So, it wasn’t long before I walked out of the office with George Cooper’s—the head coach’s—personal information, downloaded on my phone. Though it may sound unethical, my dad has always trusted me while I’ve always trusted Victor; it had always been a simple yet effective chain of trust.

...

Victor and the squad were waiting for me right outside the Newspaper club. I approached them with a smug grin on my face, which I maintained even as I shared those files with Krishna; like Victor instructed. “Now go and check his house,” Victor told Krishna.

“Check his house?” Krishna was a little confused. “Like, break in?”

“What? No! Just give me a call when you reach the area, I’ll explain the rest then.”

...

Exiting the building, Krishna split up and went to the parking space, while Casper and Julia went wandering for the time being; Victor asked them to return to the football stadium in 15 minutes. Victor and I then headed straight to the stadium, or more accurately, I trailed behind him since I had nothing better to do.

“We’re gonna meet Jacob?” I asked, walking beside him.

“Yes... this is going to be the last chance to call him an idiot before he joins the team.”

“I assume you cracked the case then?”

“We still need proof and a confession, but yes.”

I didn’t question him any further about it. Because for one, I’m someone who prefers suspense and thrill over spoilers. And for another, he wouldn’t reveal it anyway because, apart from being an ill-mannered chipmunching smartass, he also has the habit of showing off now and then; though, not in front of many people. So whenever he’s confident about an answer, he holds it close to his chest until the grand reveal or the time to show off.

...

Entering the stadium, we walked straight to the corner where Jacob was training earlier; he wasn’t there anymore, and neither was his sister. Though it was pleasant to see the huge stadium almost fully deserted, we had a bit of waiting to go through. So, we settled down on the bench where Jasmine was earlier. I rested my head on Victor’s bony shoulders as our hair, clothes, and the Lays packet—in Victor’s hand—fluttered in the rhythm of the wind. We chatted on about random topics while munching on his chips; he regularly fed me a few flakes.

About 10 minutes later...

Victor’s cell phone rang, and it was—expectedly—a call from Krishna. Answering it in Speaker mode, he placed it on his lap. “I’m here,” Krishna reported. “His car is not in the garage, it doesn’t seem like he’s here.”

“Yes, I figured,” Victor returned, keeping his eyes ahead on the football field; there were a few jocks present at the time, training. “Now go ring the bell and meet his wife. Get yourself inside the house with some believable excuse—you know the drill. Ask her if he had stopped by and if he did, ask if he had taken his son with him,” he abruptly hung up the phone before emptying the last bits of the chips—directly from the packet—into his mouth, and accurately tossed it into the trash bin a few feet away. It was right then, we saw Jasmine and Jacob in the distance, approaching us; Jasmine wasn’t thrilled to see Victor again.

Soon, Casper and Julia arrived as well. And once we had all settled down in the front row, Victor faced Jacob and said, “You're a total moron.”

Jasmine didn’t react bashfully this time; she simply rolled her eyes and continued to listen. Apparently, she realized that was his way of saying ‘I got something to tell you.’

“I’ll start off by saying,” started Victor, “you're weak. Not physically, mentally. You were also a bit unlucky since you were the last in line to take the test.”

“Unlucky?” frowned Jacob.

“Because that way nobody else saw you take the test,” he then stood up and loudly called another jock in the field, who seemed like an average dude with an average build.

He approached us with a confused frown and asked, “What up?”

“Did you pass the test before you got into the team?” Victor questioned.

He returned a snort. “What kinda stupid question—”

“It’ll be better if you just do the answering.”

He paused for a second before responding with a casual shrug. “Of course I passed the tests.”

“The tests included vertical jump, bench press and... I can’t remember the rest. Vertical jump: how did you do?”

“Twenty-six inches,” he answered to which there was an immediate reaction from Jacob; Victor took note of it.

“Now that’s a sign,” said Victor, referring to Jacob’s reaction, “of me being right,” and then turned to the other jock. “What was the minimum standard?”

“Twenty-one.”

“And how much were you asked to do?” he questioned Jacob with a confident stare.

“Th—thirty-six,” Jacob replied in wide-eyed disbelief.

“It’s impressive how the coach correctly estimated your self-esteem and made you believe you were weak. I suppose he also estimated how big of a moron you were. You never bothered to notice how the others in front of you performed, so you never noticed the abnormal difference in standards.”

“So, my brother’s not weak?” Jasmine interjected while Jacob remained silent with his head bent down.

“You can go now,” Victor nodded at the other jock, who then returned to his practice. Turning to Jasmine, Victor continued. “He is. But like I said, not physically. He overestimated himself and he never bothered to check if he was being asked to meet above-average standards,” he turned back to Jacob. “I'm sure you failed the other tests for the same reason; not because you were weak. But then you became depressed, which actually weakened you.”

“Basic psychology: you believe you're weak, you become weak,” I concluded.

“Are you saying Mr. Cooper did this intentionally?” Jasmine looked at me. “Did he not want my brother on the team?”