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Breeze
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Breeze
by Sarah Asuquo
Contents
Title Page
1: Track Girl
2: VIPs Only
3: 02.02.2017
4: The Announcement
5: Magic
6: Rumour Has It
7: The Regional Athletic Heats
8: Jealous
9: 03.03.2017
10: Sorry
11: Fit for Purpose
12: The Legends of Aspire
13: Mission Impossible
14: The Aspire Coat of Arms
15: On the Telly
16: Sports Day
17: B Squared
Copyright
– 1 –
Track Girl
Breeze’s self-diagnosed ‘trend-indifference syndrome’ is a condition that she has lived with, and was somewhat grateful for, since she was a child. The term refers to the recurring social situations Breeze would often find herself in that caused her to question whether her peers were… um, what’s the right word? Weirdos. Yes, weirdos. Or if she was in fact the oddball who failed to see the world in the same way that everyone else did. At times, Breeze thought that it might be a Tower Hamlets thing and that everyone in her borough was just a bit, what do you call it? Loopy. She once hypothesised that perhaps the prolonged inhalation of the oil emitted into the air by the local chippys’ deep fat fryers, combined with the aromas of the rapidly decaying meat thoughtfully hung out on display in the local markets, infused with the remnant scents of the intermittent sewer leaks in the area had a greater effect on the local residents than they had realised. A real conundrum. Well, for Breeze it was.
Ultimately, Breeze had always been different, and she was ok with that. Take preschool, for example. Whilst most children were mesmerised by Ziggy, the magic puppet, Breeze was entertained by talking to insects. This wasn’t an issue — until she decided to invite the insects to Story Time, sending every child in the book corner into a screaming, crying frenzy! Every child that is except Gerry Ginger. Gerry just ate the insects, which made Breeze cry.
Primary school was no different. Breeze had an imaginary friend named AJ. Pretty normal, right? Everyone had an imaginary friend who they shared all their secrets with, played tag with and gave half of their packed lunch to… no? Turns out that their friendship wasn’t so common after all and soon, AJ became Breeze’s only friend.
Breeze now attended Aspire Academy, a federation of five secondary schools in East London, and she was a student of the school in Poplar. Although secondary school had been a better experience for Breeze, she still didn’t feel like she belonged; she wasn’t like most of the girls in her school. The most popular girls were the ‘slayed girls’, who firmly believed that wearing makeup in public was mandatory and had the essential, daily duty of ensuring that their bestie’s “contour was poppin’.” But the thought of applying anything other than cocoa butter to her skin unsettled Breeze’s soul. Then there were the ‘academic girls’, who would adamantly search for any reason to start a debate and whose sole aim in life was to prove that they were the most intelligent beings in the room. The ‘rebels’, who went above and beyond to highlight how different they were to the rest of the students at Aspire, which Breeze thought slightly defeated the point because they were identically unique, if that makes sense. The ‘science girls’, who spent their free time precariously experimenting, with the hope to make the next, ground-breaking scientific discovery. The ‘performing arts girls’, also known as the ‘creatives’, who made a song and dance out of everything, literally. The ‘IT girls’, who could effortlessly hack into every software system within the school, a skill they often used to cause havoc (just google “Aspire Academy Host Hip-hop Festival during GCSE Examinations”). The ‘selective mutes’, who didn’t speak to anyone other than the members of their friendship group. The ‘bad girls’ who, based on the self-proclaimed name, Breeze assumed were bad in some way. And that was just the girls. The boys had even more squads! Breeze just couldn’t find a group that she could fit into and she was fine with that. Every week, there was a new song that supposedly ‘banged’ or dance craze or social media challenge, and Breeze couldn’t keep up! To be honest, she didn’t want to. She would rather spend her spare time dancing and rapping along to MC Hammer classics with her family than listening to the ramblings of the illustrious rapper, Yung Coin, also known as YC. Yes, you read that correctly. There is no ‘o’ in young. And no, his music was not acceptable.
As she sat in her maths lesson daydreaming, Breeze was blissfully unaware that her class were playing ‘whippin’, a game in which one person discreetly performs any gesture related to driving without being detected by the teacher and then passes it on someone else. Sounds fun, right? Not for Breeze. She neither enjoyed nor understood the game.
“Why is this even a thing?” she would furtively protest. “None of us can drive! … But we’re not even in cars, though. We’re in chairs — very uncomfortable chairs!” were just a few of the thoughts that rang through her mind when she watched the game.
Jayden looked over his shoulder as he pretended to reverse parallel park his car (his car being his desk, obviously) whilst everyone in the class watched in admiration. Everyone except Breeze. Breeze wasn’t watching and consequently, she missed Jayden wink at her (that’s how you pass it on… I know). After a few exaggerated winks, Breeze heard a voice in the distance cry “Track Girl… Track Girl” except, it wasn’t in the distance; it was Chanel, the most popular girl in Breeze’s year group. Breeze snapped out of her daydream, which she wasn’t happy about because she had finally persuaded MC Hammer to teach her the ‘Hammer Dance’ and she had almost mastered it.
“It’s your go,” said Chanel as Breeze looked at her in bewilderment. “Whippin’,” she continued, accompanied with what Breeze called the ‘angry mum neck roll’ because this game was clearly the most sensible and appropriate activity that students should be doing in a maths lesson. All eyes were on Breeze. She looked to Mr Fraser to save her from the madness, but to her dismay, he wasn’t looking back. “Don’t do it to yourself, Breeze. It’s such a stupid game, don’t succumb to the pressure” she thought to herself, but her hands did not comply and before she knew it, Breeze was pressing an imaginary car horn (yep, I know) and if that wasn’t enough, for some reason, Breeze thought it would be a good idea to add sound effects to what had always been a silent game by uncomfortably sounding through a forced smile, “beep, beep.” It wasn’t.
“Not beep!” said Mr Fraser in his Jamaican-Cockney accent. “I said keep, keep your exercise books and I’ll collect them next lesson.”
The class found this hysterical, and a storm of laughter swept through the classroom as Mr Fraser ended the lesson.
“Ah, you’re so funny, Track Girl,” said Chanel, leaving the room, her flock sniggering behind her.
“No. I’m not funny,” Breeze murmured. “James Corden: funny, Kojo Anim: funny.” Breeze knew that she wasn’t funny, and that was ok. Breeze also knew that she was a ‘Track Girl’ and being called one wasn’t a problem. However, as much as Breeze loved being on the track and it was one of the few places where she felt like she actually belonged, she knew that Chanel didn’t call her Track Girl because she admired her athletic ability, but rather because she could not remember Breeze’s name, and that was not ok.
– 2 –
VIPs Only
The discovery of Breeze’s ability to sprint occurred in unconventional circumstances. It was her first day of secondary school and her older cousin, Zach, who lived in the estate opposite to hers, picked her up to walk her there. As they came out of the entrance to her block, Breeze warned Zach about Kasper, the ferocious terrier of Lockley Estate, from number 305. The slightest noise would send him barking
mad, literally, rampantly chasing the culprit of disturbance of the peace. Ironic as the noise he made would always be the cause of a commotion.
“Wait!” Breeze whispered.
“Come on, man!” Zach insisted. “I ain’t scared of no dog. As long as you’re rolling with me, you’re all good. You don’t need to worry ’bout — woah, what the hell is that, Bree? –”
An incidental step on a twig triggered a viscous growl that echoed through the compound, accompanied by the sound of Kasper’s paws accelerating on the ground as he charged towards them. By the time Breeze had recovered from her state of shock and looked to her left, Zach had disappeared.
“Run, Breeze! Run!” yelled Zach.
But her feet would not move.
“Breeze! Run, baby!” her mother cried from her bedroom window. “Hey! Hey! Control your dog!”
Breeze was paralysed with fear, her senses obscured as her mother’s screams were interchanged with Kasper’s barking, which was overridden by the pulse of her heart and the blood-curdling sight of Kasper’s canines, displayed to her in fury.
“Ahh!” she screamed, and her body reacted in flight mode. Within seconds she had caught up with Zach, narrowly escaping a perilous fate.
“Breezy! How did you run so quickly?”
“How-could-you-just-leave-me-like-that?”
“Sorry, cuz. It was just my natural reaction. But that was crazy, though. You were mad quick! Are you ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool.”
This day gave Breeze a newfound sense of confidence. For the first time in her life, she had rescued herself from danger. She started to compete in her school’s sporting events and very quickly, her P.E. teachers recognised her talent. Boy, could she run! Breeze had found her gift, her ‘thing’ and soon, the track became her most treasured companion.
***
Breeze and Bella, or B Squared (as they, and only they, liked to call themselves) just understood one another. They met in Year 7 when they bumped into each other at the school’s mini pond. This was the perfect location for them to eat their lunch as they both found the canteen too boisterous to endure and were pleasantly surprised when they discovered someone else who also knew that the place existed. No one went to the school’s pond. It was located behind the library, which was also desolate at lunchtimes, and soon it became B Squared’s spot. Their friendship was sealed by their equal and unwavering love for Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (cookie dough flavour, of course) and their aversion to cruisin’ (the older version of whippin’… don’t ask). They even shared the same birthday, 02.02.2002, because, as they would say, “the best things come in twos”.
“Easy Breezy! Let’s go! The arena awaits!” said Bella.
Bella had energy for days; it didn’t take much to get her excited and at times, Breeze would have to use strategies she had learned from watching Toddlers, Tears & Tantrums to calm her down. However, on this occasion, Bella’s excitement was justified as this was another passion that B Squared shared, athletics. They both competed in the National Junior League. Bella had the leading score for javelin in the Borough, and Breeze was 1st nationally for the 100-metre sprint. Fortunately, Aspire Academy was a sports specialist institution, with a state-of-the-art training ground and B Squared trained there after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. As they made their way to the arena, Breeze explained the ‘beep, beep’ incident.
“Don’t lie, Breezy!” Bella winced in disappointment, placing her head in her hands. “You actually said ‘beep, beep’. Why? Just why? Better from you, Breezy. Better — from — you.”
“I know, Bell. I know. Don’t make me feel worse.”
“All right. All right. But seriously, though, I just don’t get the game,” said Bella.
“That’s what I’m saying!”
“None of us can drive!” they clamoured simultaneously.
“Girls, you only have an hour; I need to lock up early today,” said the school’s caretaker. He admired B Squared’s commitment to training and would often close the stadium slightly later so that they could train for longer.
“Ok, Bossman. Thanks!” said Breeze.
“We’ll be done by then, Boss,” Bella replied.
“He’s so safe, man. What’s his name again?”
“I can’t remember, you know. I swear it’s on his cap.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ve seen it before.”
“Oh, ok. I’ll make sure to check it out next time.”
“Yeah, but come on, let’s get started. We don’t have much time.”
“Cool. Let’s go.”
Bella watched in amazement as Breeze shot past her in pursuit of the finish line, her braids soaring behind her, as swift as an unexpected gale. “No way,” she whispered.
“She’s a beast!” said Jayden, heading towards the sandpit. He was every girl’s crush at Aspire Academy. Well, almost every girl. B Squared were not interested. They could appreciate that he was ‘easy on the eyes’, as Breeze would say, and watching him compete in the long jump was impressive, but his overconfidence was off-putting and consequently, any interaction between B Squared and Jayden was limited to small talk. “In a bit Belly,” he said, accompanied with an awkward high five.
“It’s Bella… he knows it’s Bella. Bell, Bells even B would be acceptable, but Belly! Really?” Bella muttered.
“How did I do, Bell?” asked Breeze, panting and kneeling in exhaustion.
Bella snapped out of her rant and looked down at her stopwatch. Her face was deliberately void of expression (for dramatic effect, of course) as she jogged towards her bestie.
“It’s not about the time you achieved, Breezy… as long as you tried your best… that’s all that matters, right? That’s what’s most important… FIFTEEN POINT TWO NINE SECONDS! C’MON!” she yelled, jolting Breeze’s shoulders.
“What! That’s a new PB!” Breeze jumped up and did her celebratory dance (MC Hammer’s ‘Shuffle Dance’) followed by the B Squared handshake (smooth arm slide, twinkle fingers, hand clench, fist pump, and explosion – this sequence and having accurate timing was imperative).
“Aww, that’s really cool,” chuckled a voice in the distance with sarcasm oozing from every syllable within each word.
“Chanel,” said B Squared in unison, slowly turning their heads towards her direction, hoping that they were wrong. They weren’t.
“Hey girlies, you look… interesting,” (really? Of all the adjectives). “The weather’s nice, isn’t it?” she asked, scanning the arena like a wanted criminal.
It was clear she was up to something and Breeze couldn’t bear the pretences any longer. “So, what’s up, Chanel? Have you come to train with us?” A silly question and Breeze knew it was. Especially as Chanel was wearing her school pumps and holding her designer handbag like a mother cradling a new-born.
Chanel fake laughed excessively. “No silly, I’m here to give you guys this invitation.” Breeze and Bella looked at each other in disbelief, they were never invited to anything. “Well… aren’t you going to ask what it’s for?” said Chanel, full of elation.
Unimpressed that she was being treated like a five-year-old, Bella replied in a monotone voice, “What’s it for, Chanel?”
“My birthday party! The third of the third because three is a magic number!” Bella and Breeze looked at each other with the mutual understanding that there were no such things as magic numbers, but if there were, two would be a clear choice.
“Thanks, Chanel. That’s nice of you to invite us,” replied Bella, still in shock. Chanel guffawed even louder than before. B Squared were confused but thought that pretending to laugh along with her would make the situation less uncomfortable. It didn’t.
“Why are we laughing?” said Breeze through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know,” muttered Bella through her forced smile.
“The invite isn’t for you two, it’s for Jayden!” said Chanel. “My birthday party, as in my sweet 15thbirthd
ay! It will be the biggest and littest event of the year! VIPs only.”
“So why are you giving us an invitation for Jayden?” asked Breeze, dryly.
“Because he’s my crush, duh!” Breeze and Bella looked at Chanel blankly. “Look, I can’t give him the invitation myself, that’s too keen. You’ve got to keep them on their toes, you know?” she said, as if this was a rational explanation. “So, I need you two to give it to him… please? You train with him anyway so it should be easy, right?”
“Nah, we don’t, actually. Not re-”
“Thank you so much, girls! Aww, that’s so cute that you actually thought you were invited… bless,” she said as she hugged them gave them an air double French kiss (another thing B Squared disliked and didn’t understand).
“No. Not cute. Puppies: cute, babies: cute, Year 7s on their first day of secondary school and their extra-large rucksacks: cute,” Breeze mumbled to herself as she watched Chanel perform her strut of satisfaction. B squared knew that they were not cute, and that was ok.
“VIPs only, you know. So cheeky!” said Bella.
“Yeah, typical Chanel. But you know what, it don’t matter,” replied Breeze, “We’ve got our own birthdays coming up in a few weeks anyway. Who needs Chanel’s sweet 15th? Ain’t no sweeter than Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice Cream!”
“You’re right. Let’s just give this invitation to Jayden and forget about it. I say on the third of the third, when most people will be at Chanel’s party, we do our own thing. Pizza, ice cream, a movie and my VIP,” said Bella.
“Who’s that, then?” said Breeze, grinning subtly. “Aww, you’re such a softy!” Bella was unimpressed by her bestie’s mockery. “I’m only playing with you, Bell. That sounds like a plan. You’re the only VIP I need!” Breeze’s expression of mischief progressively transitioned to a look of deep thought. “Bell… do me a favour.”
“What?” asked Bella.