The Jinx Renewed
Hunter stood rigid in the center of the fountain, like a marble statue carved from cold marble, unable to move. When she opened the door to the apartment, only then did he snap out of it and take one hesitant step forward.
[Jiyu—]
Jiyu instinctively turned back to him. Her face flushed with a crimson aura as she cut him off mid-sentence.
“Focus on your skills, Hunter. Ignore the jinx. Just don’t blame me.”
She had only realized he had spoken her name properly for the first time in years since returning home.
***
The cooling-off period lasted longer than expected. They still studied math together, but neither of them exchanged a single word. They spent the winter semester of sixth grade in complete silence.
The spring semester brought the real tennis season. Hunter skipped school more often to enter tournaments.
Six months of slump, unable to achieve any decent results. When Jiyu heard that Hunter had smashed his racket in a fit of rage after a tournament, she gave a sly, malicious little laugh.
Mid-June. As summer break began, he headed to a top-tier tennis academy in southern France for a two-month summer camp. Mid-August he returned to New York. The rest of the break he spent at the Hampton estate. Right after Labor Day, he came back to Hamilton Residence.
The moment he stepped inside, Hunter summoned Jiyu to the treehouse.
“This is hilarious. Not a dog. If I called, you’d trot over?”
Jiyu ignored his text. But like all childhood quarrels, the summer apart had dulled the sharp sting of anger and resentment under the bright summer sun.
“Why are you calling me again?”
With the appointment time approaching and her heart racing, she finally tossed the book she was reading onto the bed. The impulsive, puberty-fueled curiosity that made her mood swing several times a day overpowered her resistance.
She changed clothes and headed out, but her pride stung when she opened the closet. She kept the shorts and tank top on and arrived at the fountain ten minutes late. She had planned to storm out if he complained.
Hunter was waiting by a pillar instead of entering the treehouse. He was dressed for practice. His height had grown noticeably over break; in a few months he’d exceed six feet. His skin bore the deep golden tan of southern France.
[Hey.]
Hunter straightened from the pillar. He scanned her from head to toe with an unfamiliar gaze.
……
Jiyu stood with a cold face, refusing to meet his eyes.
He walked toward her with long strides and thrust something forward. Then he covered his mouth with his fist and cleared his throat with a short apology.
“Ahem… sorry.”
This was the first olive branch he had raised since the second playdate seven years ago. Instead of an olive branch, he offered a book, the same gesture.
Jiyu automatically took it and stared in shock. She could tell it had been personally wrapped; the old cover peeked through the loose ribbon.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Her favorite science-fiction novel. Hunter knew it. Unable to resist, she unwrapped the ribbon, cautiously lifted the cover, and turned the yellowed pages.
First-edition from 1979. A handwritten signature of the late author Douglas Adams from 2001 remained.
Jiyu drew in a sharp breath and covered her mouth. She gently closed the book and hugged it to her chest. She lifted her head. Hunter’s mouth curved in a smile, then he turned away and cleared his throat again.
This was a clear bribe. She knew accepting it carried a price. Yet she could not refuse the apology.
[… Thank you, Hunter.]
Just before seventh grade, they made peace. And Jiyu reclaimed her position in Hunter’s winning “jinx.”
That weekend, Hunter returned with dazzling results and claimed the trophy at the 14-and-under L1 tournament in Chicago.
Spring semester of seventh grade. April felt unusually mild compared to previous years.
New York winters lingered into April, sometimes snowing even mid-month. May’s spring only shyly appeared before yielding to summer’s heat.
Because spring arrived early, rain fell more often than snow.
Three times a week, the final class was PE. But today’s rain canceled both outdoor team sports and individual activities.
They moved indoors to the sports center shared by Astor School and Alton School.
In the vast gym, seventh-graders from both schools sat on the polished wooden floor. With roughly fifty to sixty students per school, the total barely topped one hundred twenty.
The humid air from the rain mixed with the heavy teenage boys’ sweat and the overly sweet girls’ perfume. It was suffocating. Yet when smelled separately, the stronger scents canceled each other, making the air bearable.
Jiyu arrived late to the gym after a history class discussion on the Capstone Project for ancient civilizations.
She opened the heavy soundproof door and paused. The seating was random. Astor and Alton students sat mixed together. Rainy days usually meant fitness or simple games, but today was a special class.
Jiyu’s face showed a hint of disappointment when she spotted Chloe’s back in the second row from the front. She planned to slip in quietly later.
Jiyu’s specialty was disappearing like a ghost. It was one of the survival skills she had learned in the merciless jungle of Upper East Side private schools.
She lifted her heels and slid silently across the gleaming floor until she reached the very last seat.
Fortunately, no one noticed her. The boy beside her only glanced sideways and looked away.
Soon, the two school guidance counselors—Miz Shapiro and Mr. Hawkins—began the class with a human anatomy model in the center.
“Today’s lesson is ‘Safety & Survival,’ the second session on vital signs—how to check for life-threatening conditions.”
Last winter, on a snowy day, the PE teacher with a lifeguard certification had taught CPR instead of class.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed. Then a heavy, deliberate footstep. An indifferent, loud voice entered unhurriedly, ignoring the tardiness.
Jiyu suddenly froze. Her shoulders tensed and goosebumps rose on her arms even from just the sound.
‘Hunter.’
It was an inexplicable instinctive reaction. All eyes turned to the door, but Jiyu kept her head down.
[Hamilton, sit at the end.]
Alton’s PE teacher, Mr. Duncan, stood and pointed at her.
Hunter walked with clattering steps and plopped down at the end.
“Hi, Hunter!”
Siena whispered the greeting, but everyone heard.
“What’s up, Triple?”
A boy in front turned and bumped fists with Hunter. Hunter returned the light bump.
“Yo, Hamilton.”
After the greetings faded, Miz Shapiro resumed the class. Only then did Jiyu glance at Hunter. He flicked his eyes to her.
When their eyes met, he gave a barely noticeable nod as if they knew each other, eyebrow twitching. Jiyu was startled but matched the gesture with a slight eyelid movement.
As she rolled her eyes forward again, she met Siena’s gaze. Siena sat in the second row, conveniently beside Chloe. Her sideways glance toward Jiyu and Hunter was anything but casual.
Doubt. And denial.
Jiyu swallowed dryly and lowered her eyes. Becoming Siena’s enemy at Astor School was unacceptable.