3 | Camp Studies

They hiss and talk behind our back,

Every night they throw their rock,

Wanting our heads on a sack,

Until we push and give them a knock.

-G

-==-

Taren University was a twenty-one-hectare land in west side of South Valley town. It boasted ancient architecture designs and its kingdom-like buildings attracted lots of students. It sure was an expensive school and mostly the students could only enter the premise by invitation. Every summer, the administration held free workshops, opening its gates to outsiders, letting them experience their prestigious university.

And Chessa was one of the lucky few who got accepted for one of the workshops.

She hurried toward the entrance, her high-cut sneakers screeched against the shiny floor as she turned to the corner and headed to the stairs. She was running late and she did not wanted to have a late entrance on the first day. The badge given to her was already pinned on her black shirt, the invitation safely tucked between the sheets of her notebook. But what gave her anxiety was her missing I.D card. She would have to go back to the registration room to check since the lady in the Lost & Found quarter told her there was no such thing surrendered.

Chessa found a seat in front, already seeing the back row almost fully occupied. She liked sitting up front, anyways. She was breathing hard as she seated when another student sat beside her.

“So, we meet again,” he said. He was smiling at her. “Isn’t this what they called destiny?”

She looked at him. “The guy I bumped into yesterday, right?” she muttered, uncertainty in her tone, but she knew full well she was right.

The guy smiled widely, nodding his head. He had doe eyes, sweet smile, the kind any girl would call charming. “But you don’t really bump into me. I kinda help you get the pen you dropped.”

Chessa returned his smile. He was friendly. He looked nice, she thought. “Yes, thanks for that. Though I could have got it myself, you know.”

“I’m Charleson, by the way,” he said, offering his hand to her.

Handshake wasn’t really her thing. She contemplated, not wanting to appear rude. But she kept her hands on her lap and instead just nodded her head. “I’m sorry, I have sweaty hands. It’s not my thing, really. But it’s nice meeting you. My name’s Chessa.”

Charleson cocked his head to the side, gazing at her. He dropped his hand. “No worries. So, where are you from?”

“Peterson Town,” she answered, scanning the room, realizing there were already plenty of them inside. “You?”

“I’m a local student here.” He kept his eyes on her, making her uneasy. “I hope you won’t believe anything you heard. Augustus is a cold guy whose only interest is to bully people who is not his brothers. Meaning, someone like me."

The name caught her attention. "Augustus?"

Charles nodded. "Yes. The one in the registration booth yesterday?"

His cold sharp stare resurfaced in her head. She remembered the way he questioned her piano skills. The way he dismissed her. So the name in his bracelet was his. That meant it was his call whether she would have a badge for the paino or not.

"Don’t worry, I don't easily believe in stories." Chessa had learned early in life how a story could save and ruin someone's lives.

A petite woman with thick framed eyeglasses entered the room, clearing her throat for attention. On her trail was a tall guy, his walk oozing with confidence and authority. The same guy who walked toward Augustus to say the line to the registration already reached the building's entrance.

"I'd like to welcome each and everyone of you to this special journalism workshop. I didn’t expect to see the room almost full. I think we'll have a great workshop this summer, Ram, what do you think?"

Ram smiled, showing small dimples. "This will be something you won't easily forget," he said, addressing the students. "Ms. Jeorgia is the campus head editor and I'm the president for Wordsmith, the official journal organization here at Taren. My name’s Ram Raganzo, again, welcome to the club."

Ms. Jeorgia looked like a proud mother to Ram. There was brief applaud across the spacious room and Chessa smiled to herself. They were welcoming. At least she could let herself be comfortable. After all, it was her dream to be really in that field, only if her parents allowed her to chase her dream instead of forcing a path she wasn't willing to take.

The first half of the meeting went smoothly. Chessa found herself in a small group of ten strangers, formed to create a whole magazine by the end of the workshop. A girl named Minalissa was voted as the editor-in-chief of the group while Chessa was assigned in literature and arts. Ms. Jeorgia discussed the brief history of Taren University's founders and waved them off once the bell rang for lunch.

"Chessa?" Someone called her out, tone a bit pitchy. When she turned, he smiled widely, waving her hand. He had great eyebrows, his eyes had a hint of eyeliner, lips pinkish. "We're both in Lit and Arts, that makes us partners. Wanna go grab lunch at the cafeteria?"

Something in his doe eyes made her comfortable. "Sure."

"My name’s Matteo but nobody calls me that." He scrunched his nose, making a face. "Just call me Matty."

Chessa smiled at his enthusiasm. "It's nice to meet you, Matty."

-==-

Taren was a far cry from Peterson University. While both schools were famous for its quality education, Taren had a distinct aesthetic of old-fashioned sculptures and some ancient, and unknown, scriptures and symbols to some part of the high walls. Cafeteria seemed the only place which looked modern in the kingdom-like university. The walls and posts had pastel colors, welcoming to the eyes and somehow made Chessa feel at ease. The mouth-watering scent of buttered chicken and pastry hit her nose the moment they stepped inside.

"Are you a local student here?" Chessa asked as they seated on the bench. She looked around, noting a bunch of students already swarmed the place.

"Uh-huh," Matty replied, nodding his head with a raised eyebrow. "And as a local student here, it's my duty to warn you, that all boys here want me."

Minalissa sat across them, dropping her shoulder bag on the table. That's half-truth," she chimed in. She looked like a barbie girl, her posture rivaling beauty queens. She was tall and skinny with black hair reaching past her lower back.

"Oh my," Matty gasped. He looked like he was about to melt. "The president is here. Do I look okay?"

Chessa followed the trail of who he was looking at, seeing Ram Raganzo.

Minalissa spoke when she saw Chessa's face. "Don’t be confused, Matty is gay. And well, Ram's the one he's crushing on right now."

She nodded, admiring how open Matty was. At first look, she couldn't tell he was gay. He looked manly.

"Only because G is so cold, he's freezing me to death."

"Who's G?" Chessa asked, wanting to be in their conversation. She somehow heard the nickname before, only she couldn't recall when. "Another crush?"

Minalissa beat her friend into responding to her question. "The love of his life. His first love."

Matty sighed, shaking his head. "Well who would not fall in love with him? Especially when he's playing the piano."

"Is he that good?" Chessa asked, intrigued. He only knew a few guys who could play the piano back at her school.

Matty stared at her. "Oh, you'll get orgasm just hearing him play."

Both girls have their mouth hung opened at his remarks.  Obviously, they didn't see it coming.

"I'll take your word for it," Chessa muttered, cupping her face. "Do you also play the piano?"

He shook his head. "Do you?"

She shrugged. "A bit." It was a lie. She was playing the piano since she was a kid. It was some sort of therapy for her, helping her soothe her frazzled nerves, easing her anxious mind.

"Well, I wanna hear you play," Matty said. "But before everything else, I'm famished. I'll go see what's on the menu." He stood up and hurried toward the counter at the far end of the cafeteria.

"Glad you're in our team," Minalissa stated after a while. "I mean, I want you in our team. I've read your first entry when you submitted your application and I instantly knew you'll get accepted."

Chessa felt her cheeks warmed. She hadn't expected to hear it. "Thank you," she replied, letting excitement bubbled in her stomach. "I really wanted to attend the workshop the first time I heard of it. Besides, this school's got a reputation when it comes to camp studies."

"Wow, you impressed me, Chessa," she said, smiling genuinely. "I mean, I often hear guest students say they wanna attend the school because of Kiba or Vennix or whoever in the Raganzo brothers. Just to see them in person. Like, really, how serious are they?"

"I have no idea who they are," she replied, brushing her hair back.

Minalissa pursed her lips. "Well, you already met Ram, he's one of the Raganzo brothers. He's actually the most active in school, well, pretty smart too. If you saw another guy- tall, got good looks, confident, same aura as him, then that's a Raganzo. They're brothers, seven of them."

"Okay," Chessa mumbled. "Is Matty's first love a Raganzo too?"

Minalissa rolled her eyes, biting her lips. "He is. He's got a reputation too. The guy's a savage and blunt. But girls still like him with all that bad boy persona thing, I don't get it."

Matty appeared before them. "Shrimp Alfredo pasta, veg salad, fries and fish fillet and buttered chicken. That's all in there."

Minalissa batted her eyes on him. "Veg salad for me. Your tab."

"Ugh, bummer," he said, shaking his head. "You, my dear?"

Chessa pulled out her meal tab. "The pasta one."

Matty gently pushed the meal tab back to her, a smile on his lips. "I got it. Take it as warm welcome gift." He winked and walked out, going back to the counter.

First day of classes was always terrible for Chessa. Back at Peterson University, she was always on the spotlight, her every move being watched. At Taren's, she felt free and happy. She felt belonged.