CHAPTER 7: No Guts, No Glory

ITK shared our exercise books after the English teacher marked them that afternoon. My score was 7/10. We were asked to write a letter to our father about our first day in school. I was heartbroken that she did not send my letter to Papa because I had poured my heart into writing it. I was happy that my score was high, considering that almost everyone in the class averaged 5/10, including Kanda. But my joy was short-lived when ITK opened his book and showed off his mark; he got 9/10. I was angry with that boy for so many reasons. He was intimidating, insulting, saucy, and unreasonable at times. To top it all off, he was brilliant.

He had everything figured out for him. Unlike the dirtiness JS1 boys were known for, his clothes were always neat and ironed. He had one of the best handwriting in our class. He was already the class prefect and would write down the names of noise-makers to be punished anytime he wanted. He was the only JS1 boy who had perfume. And now, to add to my misery, he appeared more intelligent than I was. I had to resent him; one person couldn't be this intimidating to me.

Papa would have wanted me to befriend him because he was intelligent, but that would be over my dead body because I had already mentally made him my enemy. Kanda was the only person he couldn't intimidate because Kanda had already composed a funny song using his real name and nickname, ITK, which was very amusing.

During one of their numerous banters, ITK reported Kanda to the auxiliary, saying that Kanda was insulting him, forgetting that Kanda was the auxiliary's servant boy and would most likely not be punished for something as trivial as that.

That incident led us all to stamp ITK as his name; nobody cared about his real name from that day on. He got on our nerves, and so did we too, but he did not mind standing alone.

He was always the last person to enter the hostel after night studies and would go straight to brush his teeth. It was weird because I never saw anyone else brushing his teeth at night. He would change into his blue pyjamas that hugged his buttocks and cry to bed. One day, I asked him where he always went after night studies and why he brushed his teeth at night and cried every night. He didn't answer me.