Chapter 27 - The Talent I Never Knew I Had

As I step into my room, the soft glow of the computer screen greets me, illuminating the dimly lit space. The meeting with Mariam and Amin seems like a distant memory now, replaced by the hum of my computer and the endless stream of emails that flood my inbox. Thousands of unread messages stare back at me, each one a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

My eyes scan the list, and then suddenly, my heart skips a beat. An email catches my attention, the subject line reading "From Natalie". I hesitate for a moment before clicking on it, my mind racing with possibilities.

The email opens, revealing two pictures that make my jaw drop. Natalie, the girl I've known for so long, is posing in a two-piece swimsuit, her smile radiant and carefree. The next picture is even more shocking – she's wearing lingerie, her eyes sparkling with a confidence I've never seen before.

"That is from Victoria's Secret...just keep it between us...even Mar doesn't know about this," the message reads. I feel like I've been punched in the gut, my mind reeling with questions. What is Natalie thinking? Why is she sending me these pictures?

I take a deep breath and move on to the next email, trying to shake off the shock. It's from Mr. Hawk, his message filled with excitement. "This is an extremely interesting finding," he writes, referring to the Journal of Tadashi that I shared with him. "We will find out more, and this will change historical journals as we speak.”

His words are followed by a more personal message, one that makes me pause. "Remember, Cheveyo...keep your head strong...this kind of thing happens for a reason...I just hope it will end soon." I wonder what he's referring to, but before I can dwell on it, I move on to the next email.

Damien's face pops up on my screen, his dreadlocks replaced by a clean buzzcut. He's wearing a school uniform, his smile confident as he poses for the camera. "Looking sharp, Damien," I think to myself, impressed by his new look. He's enrolled in a private school in Washington DC, with Kaia as his new guardian. I feel a sense of pride knowing that he's doing well.

As I scroll through the rest of my emails, one catches my eye. It's recent, sent just two nights ago, and marked "Confidential". The message is from Soro, and it's brief. "That picture is all sorted out...no point in stressing about it." I wonder what he means, but the message is cryptic, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I lie back on my soft bed, laptop still open on my chest, and gaze up at the ceiling of my bedroom. One thing's for sure – Nat is the one. She's the kind of girl who always keeps me on my toes, out of the box and unpredictable. That's why I love her so much.

As I close my eyes, trying to rest and prepare myself for the next day, my mind starts to wander. I don't feel like eating, and before I know it, I'm drifting off into a deep sleep. I'm so exhausted that I don't even notice the passing of time.

It's strange that Sylvia and the others didn't disturb me, but I'm too groggy to think about it now. When I finally wake up, it's already morning. Panic sets in as I realize I'm running late for school. "Shit, gotta prepare myself for school," I mutter to myself, throwing off the covers and rushing to get ready. The morning light streaming through the window is a harsh wake-up call, and I'm not sure I'm ready to face the day just yet.

I burst out of the house, shouting "I'm going out now!!!" as I grab my backpack. My parents' voices echo behind me, "Uh, Alex! What about breakfast?" But I know I'm running late, and there's no time for a sit-down meal.

As I rush to my bike, I'm greeted by Sylvia's calm smile. She's leaning against the bike, waiting for me. "Uh, what happened here?" I ask her, noticing the concerned look on her face.

"Well, since you looked so tired last night, I thought I'd just let you sleep in," she replies, her voice soft and gentle. I feel a pang of gratitude towards her for understanding my exhaustion.

As we hop on the bike, Sylvia hands me a lunch box with two neatly packed meals. "Since you haven't eaten yet, might as well take it then," she says, her eyes sparkling with kindness. I take the lunch box, feeling a surge of appreciation for her thoughtfulness.

We ride to school, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the streets. As we approach the school entrance, Mariam and Amin are already there, calling out to everyone as they arrive. I have to admit, it's impressive how they manage to do this every day without fail.

Amin spots me and shouts through a megaphone, "Hey bro! Good morning!" I'm taken aback by the loud greeting, and I respond with a laugh, "Yeah, I could hear that!" But before I can even process the noise, Mariam chimes in with another megaphone, "Well, get ready!" The blast of sound is almost deafening, and I feel my hair blowing back from the force of it.

Mr. Rahim joins in, booming through his own megaphone, "YOU ALL GOING TO HAVE A GOOD DAY TODAY!!!" The cacophony is overwhelming, and I wince, feeling a bit annoyed. "Well, that's a bit much," I mutter to Sylvia, who chuckles and shakes her head.

The morning sunlight streaming through the windows casts an eerie glow on Shinji's beaming smile as he greets everyone with his signature enthusiasm. "Morning, everyone!!" His voice is like a crack of thunder, shattering the morning calm. I roll my eyes, feeling a twinge of annoyance. Can't the guy just tone it down a notch?

When his gaze lands on me, Shinji's smile widens, and he gives a deep bow. "Morning, sempai!!" I grunt a response, my nod barely perceptible as I try to brush him off. But Shinji's gaze lingers, his eyes sparkling with an unsettling intensity. It's like he's trying to will me into acknowledging him.

I turn away, my feet carrying me towards the classroom door. But my mind refuses to let go of the past. Memories of Shinji's betrayal come flooding back, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The wounds may have scabbed over, but the scars still linger, a constant reminder of the pain he's caused.

Sylvia's voice cuts through my thoughts, her tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Looks like you're the one who's not yet forgiven him..." She falls into step beside me, her eyes searching mine. I shrug, trying to feign indifference. "It's nothing. Just old habits die hard, I guess.”

But Sylvia's not buying it. "You can't fool me, Alex. I know you too well. You're still hurting, aren't you?" Her words strike a chord, and I feel the familiar ache in my chest. It's like she's poking at an old wound, refusing to let it heal.

I glance at her, feeling a twinge of defensiveness. "What's it to you?" But Sylvia's expression softens, her eyes filling with empathy. "I'm just saying... it's not easy to forgive, especially when the wounds are still fresh. Shinji may have changed on the surface, but can he really change from the inside out?”

Her words echo in my mind, like a mantra refusing to be silenced. Can Shinji truly change? Or is it just a facade, a mask hiding the same old demons?

As I walk towards the classroom with Sylvia, memories of my past flood my mind. I think back to when I was involved with the 102 gangs, and how Nat tried to steer me away from that aggressive path. When I returned to school as a freshman in middle school, Nat made sure I didn't have that tough look like the brothers in the hood. But that made me stick out like a dork, especially to Hiew, who thought he was the biggest kid on the block.

I recall the constant harassment and beatings I endured, until that one fateful incident when Hiew tried to hurt Nat. The knife attack that followed didn't exactly end well for me.

After that, I didn't get to see what happened to Hiew, only hearing stories from Damien and Nat.

Sylvia's words snap me back to reality as we approach her classroom. She looks at me with a concerned expression and says, "Try to cheer up, will ya? At least I'm safe and sound, okay... darling." Her term of endearment catches me off guard, and I feel a bit annoyed.

As I head to my next class with Phylis for history and cultural lessons, I try to shake off the lingering memories of my past. The classroom is filled with the murmur of students chatting, and Phylis's enthusiastic voice as she begins the lesson.

"Good morning, class," Phylis greeted us, her voice warm and engaging. "Today, we're going to explore the rich cultural heritage of Sabah, focusing on the ethnic origins of the Kadazan-Dusun, Bajau, and Murut communities.”

"Wow, I'm so excited!" one of my classmates exclaimed. "I've always been fascinated by the traditional costumes of the Kadazan-Dusun people.”

"Yes, their attire is indeed stunning," Phylis agreed. "The intricate designs and patterns on their clothing and accessories reflect their deep connection to nature and their ancestors.

Can anyone tell me about the significance of the 'tamu' festival in Kadazan-Dusun culture?”

I raised my hand, and Phylis nodded at me. "Yes, Alex?”

"The 'tamu' festival is a harvest festival, right?" I ventured. "It's a time for the community to come together and celebrate the bounty of the land.”

"That's correct!" Phylis beamed. "The 'tamu' festival is an important part of Kadazan-Dusun culture, showcasing their gratitude for the harvest and their connection to the natural world.”

As the lesson progressed, Phylis asked more questions, encouraging us to think critically about the cultural conflicts that arose in the past. "What do you think was the main reason for the cultural assimilation of the indigenous communities in Sabah during the colonial era?" she asked.

I hesitated for a moment before responding, "Was it due to the influence of Western culture and the suppression of traditional practices?”

Phylis nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good point, Alex. The colonial powers did indeed impose their own culture and values on the indigenous communities, leading to a loss of traditional practices and cultural identity."

I asked Phylis, "Since this is about cultural beliefs in Sabah, how about dreams? Do the indigenous communities have any specific beliefs or interpretations about dreams?”

Phylis's eyes lit up with interest. "Actually, yes. In many indigenous cultures in Sabah, dreams are believed to be a source of guidance and wisdom. Some communities believe that dreams can foretell the future or provide insight into a person's spiritual journey.”

I leaned forward, intrigued. "That's fascinating. I've always been curious about the significance of dreams in different cultures.”

Phylis nodded. "In some Kadazan-Dusun communities, dreams are believed to be a way of communicating with the spirit world. They believe that the spirits of their ancestors can offer guidance and protection through dreams.”

As Phylis spoke, my mind began to wander back to my own dreams, the ones that had haunted me for so long. I thought about the recurring nightmare I'd had as a child, the one where I was running through a dark forest, pursued by an unseen force. I'd always woken up feeling shaken and uneasy.

Phylis's words brought me back to the present. "Of course, the interpretation of dreams can vary greatly depending on the individual and their cultural background. Some people believe that dreams are simply a reflection of our subconscious mind, while others believe that they hold deeper meaning.”

I nodded thoughtfully, my mind still lingering on my own dreams. I couldn't help but wonder if my nightmares were trying to tell me something, if they were a manifestation of some deeper fear or anxiety.

The classroom was abuzz with excitement as Phylis divided us into groups for a hands-on activity. I found myself teamed up with Peter, Kyle, and Matilda, and we exchanged eager glances. The other groups were formed, and soon we had five teams buzzing with anticipation.

Phylis's table was laden with mysterious artifacts, each one more intriguing than the last. Matilda's eyes widened as she spotted one of the items. "That's a Sompoton... a musical instrument!" she exclaimed.

Phylis smiled. "Okay, class. Once you get your artifact, you'll find a bag on the side filled with books and paper reports about the ethnic significance of each artifact. We'll do a ballot to determine which artifact each group gets, so appoint your leader.”

Kyle volunteered to be our leader, and we all agreed. Phylis brought out a ballot box, and each group leader drew a random item. Kyle pulled out a stunning necklace made of intricately arranged beads.

As all the groups received their artifacts, Phylis set the timer. "We have 50 minutes left for our class, so you have 30 minutes to gather as much information as possible from the materials provided. Good luck!”

Kyle examined the necklace and instantly declared, "It's definitely beads... but we need more evidence from our findings. Alex and Matilda, can you help us gather all the info we need? I'll try to figure out its significance in Murut clan style jewelry.”

I nodded, and Matilda chimed in, "This class is actually fun... we get to do real research!"

As we scoured the materials, Matilda found a book about the artifact, and I discovered a report with pictures of similar jewelry. We pored over the information, and Matilda read aloud, "Job's Tears, also known as adlay or adlay millet, is locally referred to as Dalai or Jelai in Sabah. This plant looks like a cross between corn and grass, and its hard-shelled, woody seeds are nicknamed the 'Pearls of the Borneo Jungle' due to its glossy surface and teardrop shape…"

Kyle's eyes lit up as he made some quick observations, and Peter found something interesting. "Yo, Kyle got it wrong... it's actually a different kind of beads," Peter said.

Matilda elaborated, "The design seems to be off because of the materials used... I think it's a combination of seeds and beads.”

With time running out, we frantically gathered our findings, determined to present our research to the class.

I started to get it and I ask Kyle

“Yo bro….seems like this bead we need to find the origins, remember Ms Phylis said that we need to know the background of this artifact…”

“Yeah…now you mention it…at least we need to know more about it…”

In the records seems to explain deeper about it.

"I learned something new about Job's tears from a... reliable source," I said, trying to sound casual. "It's native to Southeast Asia, and people have been cultivating it for thousands of years. Apparently, ancient Chinese people used it to brew beer around 3000 BC.”

I paused, recalling the details. "It was also introduced to Japan in the Early Jōmon Period, and in India, it dates back to around 1000 BC. The seeds were domesticated early on, which made them softer and easier to cook.”

I glanced around the room, making sure no one was paying too much attention. "In China, Job's tears are still cultivated today, mainly in provinces like Fujian and Jiangsu. And interestingly, the seeds are sometimes mistakenly labeled as 'pearl barley' because of their similar appearance.”

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "The name 'Job's tears' comes from Arabic, and it's associated with the story of Job. I guess it's a pretty interesting plant with a rich history."

I didn't mention where I got the information from, but I couldn't help but think of Mr. Hawk, Natalie's dad. He had a way of sharing knowledge that made it stick, and I was grateful for the insight.

Kyle's eyes locked onto mine, his expression determined. "We need more evidence about that," he said, his voice firm.

I nodded, already thinking ahead. "Well, at least we know where this comes from. Can you guys work on writing a report about it while I look for another source to reference?”

Kyle gave me a thumbs-up, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "Got it, Alex!”

As Kyle and Matilda began brainstorming ideas for their report, Kyle turned to Peter and said, "Hey, Pete, can you help Alex find some more evidence?”

Peter nodded and followed me to the shelf, his eyes curious. "What kind of stuff are we looking for, Alex?”

I scanned the shelves, my mind racing. "Something like a report or academic paper would be great. There's not much mass-produced literature about this ethnic group or artifact, so we'll have to dig deeper.”

Peter nodded, and together we began searching through the stacks. After a few minutes of browsing, I finally found what we needed - a report and journal filled with pictures and detailed information.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, holding up the documents. "This looks like exactly what we need.”

Peter's eyes widened as he took in the contents. "Whoa, this is some serious research.

Let's get to work!"

As we pored over the reports and journals, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. My friends were relying on me to help them understand the artifact, and I was determined to deliver.

"Okay, so let's take a closer look at the design on the necklace," I said, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns. "I think I recognize some of the motifs from my... research.”

Kyle and Matilda exchanged a curious glance, but Peter just nodded, trusting my expertise. "What do you think it means?" he asked.

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to reveal too much about my background. "Well, I think it might be related to the mythology of the Murut people. Let me see if I can find any references…"

As I flipped through the pages, my friends watched in awe as I effortlessly navigated the complex information. Kyle and Matilda exchanged impressed glances, while Peter just smiled, like he knew a secret.

"Alex, you're really good at this," Matilda said, her eyes wide with admiration. "How do you know so much about archeology and anthropology?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just picked it up here and there, I guess.”

The fragments of knowledge I'd accumulated over the years began to fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. Ancient cultures, mysterious artifacts, and forgotten lore - it was all so fascinating. And I owed it all to Mom's crazy adventures and Nat's infectious enthusiasm.

As I worked on the project with my friends, I felt a strange sense of excitement. It was like I'd been waiting for this moment my whole life. My friends were stunned by my ability to decipher the artifact's secrets.I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of pride and belonging. Maybe I had stumbled upon a hidden talent, one that I'd nurtured in secret.

My friends didn't know about my crazy adventures with Mom or the countless hours I'd spent poring over books on ancient cultures. I wasn't sure I was ready to share it with them yet, but for now, I was content to let my knowledge speak for itself.

As we continued to work, my friends began to notice my expertise. "Alex, you're a natural!" Matilda exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration. Kyle nodded in agreement, and even Peter looked impressed. I felt a warmth spread through my chest, knowing that maybe, just maybe, I'd found a new passion that would stay with me for a lifetime.

The clock ticked down to zero, and Phylis's voice cut through the air, "Time's up!" Our group let out a collective sigh of relief as we finished our quick observation. Some groups were still frantically scribbling notes, their faces scrunched up in concentration.

Phylis surveyed the room, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Well, well, well... getting this kind of project done requires more than just book smarts. It needs time management, critical thinking, and a lot of convincing arguments... skills that even university students struggle with.”

The room fell silent, anticipation building as Phylis paused for dramatic effect. "Without further ado, let's get started! Each group will present their findings, and we'll see who can convince the rest of us that their theory is the most plausible.”

The air was electric with tension as Phylis's words hung in the air. Our group's eyes met, and we exchanged determined glances. We were ready to showcase our research and prove ourselves.

The presentations began, each group taking turns to showcase their findings within the strict 3-5 minute time frame. Some groups presented elaborate diagrams, while others delivered passionate speeches. The room was filled with the sound of scribbling pens and murmured discussions as each group made their case.

As the presentations drew to a close, the tension in the room grew. Which group would impress Phylis the most? Which theory would be deemed the most plausible?

And then, it was our turn. The last group to present. The room fell silent, all eyes on us. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I stood up, ready to share our findings and make our case. The clock was ticking, and we had to make every second count.

Kyle launched into our presentation, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Our research suggests that the artifact is linked to an ancient ritual, one that's been lost to time. We've found evidence of similar symbols in other cultures, but the unique combination of these symbols points to a specific tribe.”

The room erupted into a flurry of questions. "How did you come to this conclusion?" "Can you explain the significance of the symbols?" "What tribe are you talking about?”

One group from the back of the room raised their hands, their tone critical. "This is just speculation, isn't it? You don't have any concrete evidence.”

Matilda stepped in, her voice calm and confident. "Actually, we've found several texts that support our theory. The symbols match the language used by the tribe during that time period.”

Peter added, "We've also analyzed the materials used to create the artifact. The composition and craftsmanship are consistent with the tribe's known artifacts.”

Phylis leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "That's an interesting point, but how do you explain the anomaly in the symbol's pattern?”

The room fell silent, waiting for our response. I hesitated for a moment before walking to the board. I began to draw simple diagrams and write notes, explaining our theory in a clear and concise way.

"See, if we look at the symbol like this... and consider the context in which it was created... it makes sense that the tribe would use this particular pattern to represent their connection to the divine.”

The room nodded, understanding dawning on their faces. Phylis smiled, impressed. "Ah, I see what you mean now. Well done, Alex."

As the presentation came to a close, Kyle let out a sigh of relief and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Whew, Alex, thanks... I don't know what we would have done without you." His eyes shone with gratitude, and I couldn't help but smile.

Peter, my teammate on the basketball team, grinned at me. "Pretty awesome, captain! You're a natural-born leader." I thought to myself, Oh great, now Peter's going to start calling me "Captain Awesome" all the time. I'll never hear the end of it. I rolled my eyes internally, trying not to let the cheesy compliment go to my head. Yeah, sure, Captain Awesome, more like Captain Trip-Over-My-Own-Feet.

Matilda's eyes sparkled with admiration as she approached me. "You're a natural, Alex... it's hard to believe you have that knack like Sylvia and Melissa, the smartest girls in school." I shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious. It was just stuff I'd picked up from Mom and Nat over the years, but I wasn't about to reveal that.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Our next period was Practical Life Skills, and I could see Mariam and Amin waiting for us outside the classroom. Amin's face lit up as he spotted me, and he waved enthusiastically. "Bro, bro!!”

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly as Mariam chimed in with her signature laugh. "Kukuku... finally! I've been waiting for this class all day." That annoying laugh of hers always got under my skin, but I couldn't help but smile at her infectious energy.

As we walked towards the Practical Life Skills classroom, Amin bounced alongside me, chattering excitedly about his weekend plans. Mariam trailed behind us, her eyes fixed on her phone as she typed away with lightning speed. I chuckled to myself, feeling grateful for these friends of mine who always knew how to make me laugh. Little did I know, today's class would bring its own set of surprises...

The door swung open, and a new teacher strode in, a bright smile plastered on her face. "I'm Ms. Martha... welcome everyone to Practical Life Skills!" Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she began to write her name on the board.

I exchanged a curious glance with Amin and Mariam. Where was Mr. Jamil, our usual teacher? The rumor mill was already churning in my head. Did he finally get tired of Mr. Rahim's antics?

As if reading our minds, Ms. Martha continued, "Well, Mr. Jamil is not well, so I'll be taking over until he recovers." Her voice was warm and reassuring, but I couldn't help but wonder what had really happened.

Amin leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye, and whispered, "I think I know why..." He raised an eyebrow, and I couldn't help but chuckle. Yeah, Mr. Rahim's rampage was probably the culprit. I stifled a grin, trying to look innocent.

Ms. Martha seemed nice, but I had a feeling this class was going to be interesting.

Ms. Martha surveyed the room, her eyes lingering on each of us. "I want to get a sense of where you all are in terms of practical skills. Can anyone tell me what they've learned so far in this class?”

Amin and Mariam exchanged a glance, but I could tell we were all thinking the same thing - not much, unfortunately. Mr. Jamil's teaching style had been more theoretical than practical.

Ms. Martha smiled, seeming to sense our hesitation. "No matter, we'll start with the basics then. Today, we're going to learn how to do some simple house chores.”

The room erupted into a mix of groans and excited chatter. Amin rubbed his hands together, grinning. "Finally, some real-life skills!”

Ms. Martha handed out brooms, mops, and dustpans. "Alright, let's see how well you all can handle some basic house chores. Mariam, can you show me your sweeping skills?"

Mariam nodded, taking the broom, but her enthusiasm quickly turned into chaos. She swept the dust and dirt into a pile, only to accidentally kick it back into the air, covering herself in a cloud of dust. Ms. Martha chuckled, teasingly saying, "Well, Mariam, it looks like you need a little practice... or a dust mask!”

Amin, on the other hand, was doing decently with the dustpan, although he kept making jokes about being a "professional dust collector." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly, used to his antics.

When it was my turn to mop, I took the mop and bucket with confidence. I'd helped Mom with household chores plenty of times, so I knew what I was doing. Ms. Martha watched me with a smile, nodding in approval. "Good job, Alex! You're a natural!”

As we worked, Ms. Martha walked around the room, offering guidance and feedback. Amin started making funny faces behind Mariam's back, trying to get me to laugh. Mariam, still struggling with the broom, glared at us, "Hey, I'm trying my best here!”

Ms. Martha playfully chimed in, "Mariam, maybe you should stick to your strengths... like... um... making a mess?" The class erupted into laughter, and even Mariam couldn't help but giggle.

Despite the teasing, we all had a good time learning and laughing together.

The class was a lot more hands-on than I expected, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Maybe this practical skills class wouldn't be so bad after all.

Ms. Martha began to explain the importance of hygiene and cleanliness. "You see, keeping ourselves and our surroundings clean is crucial for our health and well-being. It's not just about looking good, it's about feeling good too.”

I nodded along, taking mental notes. I'd learned about the importance of hygiene from Mom, who was always drilling it into me.

Ms. Martha looked around the room, asking, "Can anyone tell me why hygiene is so important?”

Amin raised his hand, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Because aliens might come and abduct us if we smell bad!" The room fell silent, with everyone face-palming and looking at Amin in confusion.

Mariam smacked his head, “Babe!!, what are you even talking about?" Ms. Martha burst out laughing, trying to compose herself. "Well, Amin, while that's... creative, I think we'll stick to the importance of hygiene in preventing the spread of diseases."

The class erupted into laughter, and even Amin couldn't help but chuckle at his own absurdity. Ms. Martha smiled, shaking her head, "I think we're going to get along just fine in this class."

Ms. Martha continued to explain the importance of hygiene and cleanliness, delving into its historical significance. "Did you know that ancient civilizations such as the Egyptians and Greeks placed great emphasis on personal hygiene? They believed that cleanliness was essential for both physical and spiritual well-being.”

Amin's expression turned serious, and he raised his hand. "Ms. Martha, what kind of hygiene practices did they have back then?”

Ms. Martha smiled, happy to share her knowledge. "Well, the ancient Egyptians, for example, bathed regularly and used natron, a natural mineral salt, to cleanse their bodies. They also used perfumes and fragrances to mask body odor.”

After her explanation, Ms. Martha asked us about our own hygiene routines. "So, how do you all take care of yourselves? How often do you bathe or shower?”

Amin proudly declared, "I'm a cleanliness enthusiast! I bathe three times a day!" Mariam chimed in, "I'm more of a twice-a-day kind of girl." Ms. Martha raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. "That's interesting. Mariam, why only twice a day?”

Mariam shrugged nonchalantly. "Honestly? I just can't be bothered to do it more often than that." The room fell silent, with everyone exchanging confused glances and face-palming.

I decided to share my own routine, taking a more minimalist approach. "I just shower once a day, in the morning. I find that it's enough to keep me feeling fresh and clean.”

Ms. Martha looked intrigued. "That's a very practical approach, Alex. Amin, on the other hand, I'm not sure if bathing three times a day is necessary, but it's good that you're prioritizing cleanliness." Amin grinned, "Hey, better safe than sorry, right?" Mariam just rolled her eyes, chuckling.

Ms. Martha's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she emphasized the importance of self-sufficiency. "Becoming self-sufficient is an important aspect of being an individual, especially when involving self-learning. Who knows when you're going to be overseas and you have to manage yourself without having any other help?”

One of the students, eager to learn more, raised her hand. "Ms. Martha, could you suggest us more about this?”

Ms. Martha nodded, launching into a detailed explanation. "Well, self-sufficiency means being able to take care of yourself and your needs without relying on others. It's about being resourceful, independent, and proactive. For example, learning how to cook, manage your finances, and navigate unfamiliar places are all essential skills for becoming self-sufficient.”

Just as Ms. Martha was about to continue, Amin piped up with a mischievous grin. "Yeah, and it also means being able to make your own ramen noodles from scratch... with a single strand of spaghetti and a packet of instant noodles!" The class erupted into laughter, and everyone face-palmed, anticipating Amin's antics.

Ms. Martha's expression turned speechless, her eyes wide with amusement. She stared at Amin, unsure how to respond to his absurd suggestion. The class continued to chuckle, and even I couldn't help but smile at Amin's goofy remark.

Amin, feeling proud of himself, added, "I mean, think about it, Ms. Martha. If we're stuck on a deserted island, we'll need to know how to make ramen noodles from scratch... with minimal ingredients!" The class laughed even harder, and Ms. Martha shook her head, trying to regain composure.

"Well, Amin, I think we'll stick to more practical examples of self-sufficiency... but I appreciate your creativity." The class continued, with Amin's antics providing comic relief amidst the serious discussion of self-sufficiency.

Ms. Martha stood at the front of the classroom, a confident smile spreading across her face as she surveyed the room. Suddenly, she clapped her hands, and the room fell silent. "Alright, class! Today we're going to have a practical test. Please take your seats at the designated tables.”

The room erupted into a flurry of activity as students scrambled to find their assigned tables. I made my way to our table, where Amin, Mariam, and Maya were already seated. The other 28 students were divided evenly among the 7 other tables, with 4 students per table.

As we sat down, we saw that each table was stocked with various ingredients, cooking utensils, and a note with instructions. Mariam picked up the note and began to read it, her face growing increasingly red as she did so. Steam seemed to be floating from her head, and I couldn't help but wonder what was causing her distress.

Mariam handed me the note, her eyes flashing with annoyance. I took it from her and read the contents. My eyes widened as I realized what the challenge was about. "Housewife training?" I muttered, trying to stifle a grin.

Mariam glared at me, her face still flushed. "What the hell is that for? Read it again, I dare you!" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper.

I chuckled and patted her hand reassuringly. "Ai, Mar, you know you're good at cooking, right?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mariam's response was immediate. "What the...?! You think this is funny?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in indignation.

Just then, one of the students from another table raised her hand and asked Ms. Martha, "Uh, Ms. Martha, what is this 'housewife training' all about?”

Ms. Martha chuckled, "Well, let's just say that in this challenge, the boys will be taking on the role of... homemakers. You'll be responsible for cooking, cleaning, and presenting the meal to me.”

The boys in the class looked horrified, while the girls were giggling and whispering to each other. Amin's face turned bright red, "What?! You can't be serious! I'm a guy, I'm not supposed to do housework!”

Ms. Martha smiled mischievously, "Ah, but that's the point of this challenge. To teach you all the importance of teamwork, communication, and... domestic skills.”

I couldn't help but chuckle at Amin's reaction, while Mariam just rolled her eyes. "This is going to be interesting," she muttered.

Ms. Martha continued, "You have one hour to complete the challenge, and you'll need to present your dish to me and explain how you made it. I'll be judging your culinary skills, presentation, and teamwork.”

The class erupted into chaos as everyone scrambled to read the notes and start preparing for the challenge. I turned to Mariam, who was still looking embarrassed, and whispered, "Uh, so... how are we going to do this?”

Mariam's response was immediate and intense. She stomped on my foot, her heel digging deep into my shoe. I winced in pain, but before I could react, Amin chimed in, "Babe, what's cooking?”

Mariam's elbow shot out, connecting with Amin's gut and sending him crashing to his knees. "Ugh... honey, what... the... hell... was... that... for?" Amin groaned, clutching his stomach.

Mariam ignored him and turned to Maya, starting to discuss the challenge in hushed tones. Meanwhile, I took a look at the task at hand. To my surprise, it was a simple task of preparing the dinner table for 4 people. I was familiar with this task, having often helped out at home before Sylvia moved in.

I quickly got to work, following the instructions on the note. "Make dinner for 4..." I muttered to myself, taking stock of the ingredients on the table. There was a bag of rice, a tin of sardines, some instant vegetables, and eggs.

As I started to cook the rice, Ms. Martha caught my eye. "Oh, that's a good start!" she exclaimed, nodding in approval. I smiled, feeling a sense of confidence.

But little did I know, the whole class was watching me in amazement. "Is that Alex?" Wong from 4 Unicorn whispered to his teammate. "Are you serious? Our captain..." Mikhail from 4 Patriot, a basketball member, trailed off, looking equally stunned.

I ignored the commotion behind me and focused on preparing the meal. With my experience doing chores and making dinner for Hana and Sam when mom wasn't around, I was in my element. I started to cook the sardines and vegetables, cracking eggs into a bowl.

As I worked, I glanced over at my teammates, who were still looking lost. "Oi, what are you waiting for? Get ready to set the table, will ya?" I shouted, trying to rally them into action.

Mariam and Maya snapped out of their trance, quickly getting to work on setting the table.

Amin, still nursing his stomach, stumbled over to help, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Yo bro, get the table set up!" I shouted at Amin, gesturing to the table. "Look at the table, it's a mess! Clean it up, bro!”

Amin jumped into action, grabbing a broom and starting to sweep the area around the table. Mariam, on the other hand, looked like she was still lost in thought. "Uh, what are you doing?" she asked me, her voice laced with confusion.

I shook my head, chuckling. "Mar, I'm cooking, what the hell else would I be doing? Hurry up and get this done with!" I was already busy preparing the rice in the rice cooker, and the aroma of cooking rice wafted through the air.

The class was in awe, watching me with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Ms. Martha beamed with pride. "Wow, a real experience here... How the hell does he do that? He's like my mom..." someone whispered in the background.

I continued to prepare the ingredients for the sardine dish, expertly chopping the chili, onion, garlic, and ginger. Ms. Martha reminded me to wear an apron, and I obliged, tying it around my waist.

As I started cooking, the class seemed to come to life. Everyone was staring at me, mesmerized by my culinary skills. "Oi, aren't you guys supposed to prepare as well?" I shouted, breaking the spell.

The class jumped back into action, scrambling to prepare their own dishes. Ms. Martha laughed, clearly entertained by the scene. "Wow, look at that! Alex is already a self-sufficient guy here…"

As I continued to cook, I handed Mariam a pan. "Hey Mar, cook this will ya!”

Mariam looked taken aback. "Huh? But—“

I cut her off, my voice firm but playful. "No buts! Hurry up!" Mariam hesitated for a moment before taking the pan and starting to cook. I smiled, confident that we would ace this challenge.

I watched in amusement as Mariam struggled to cook with fire. I couldn't help but wonder how she'd managed to cook anything edible in the past. While the others were busy cooking away, Mariam stood frozen, a living statue unsure of how to proceed. Her inexperience was starting to get on my nerves.

"Oi, the pan is already smoking!" I exclaimed, trying to get her attention. But Mariam didn't respond, just stood there like a deer in headlights. Maya tried to signal to her to start cooking, but Mariam didn't budge. I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.

As I added the onion, garlic, and ginger to the sizzling hot pan, the flames erupted, rising high into the air. The aroma of the ingredients wafted through the air, and the sound of the sizzling pan was like music to my ears. The class was amazed, their eyes wide with surprise.

"Are you sure Alex is in the right school?" someone asked, incredulous.

"Bro, you should think about a career change," Amin suggested, grinning.

Mariam looked at me in awe, her eyes shining with admiration. "Wow, does Nat know about this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shrugged, still expertly flipping the ingredients in the pan. "Uh, yeah... sort of…"

Mariam's eyes lit up, and she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Ms. Martha raised an eyebrow, amused. "Uh, do you know this is a school?" she asked, trying to stifle a giggle.

Mariam waved her hand dismissively. "This is big news! I have to make this call!" She started talking to someone on the phone, and I realized it was Nat. What was she doing?

"Hey babe, did you know Alex can do all that?" Mariam asked, her voice filled with excitement. There was a pause, and then she responded, "Uh-huh... okay... fine, thanks..." before hanging up.

Mariam turned to me, a curious expression on her face. "Did you learn from Nat as well?" she asked.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "She's a bit of a klutz when it comes to cooking, you know. At least there's always fire..." Mariam's face fell, and she looked at me with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Okay, then why don't you make yourself useful and prepare the drinks then...?" I suggested, trying to get Mariam involved in the cooking process.

But as I looked at Mariam, I couldn't help but notice that she seemed... off. She was usually a perfectionist, always striving for excellence in everything she did. I remembered the time she single-handedly prepared dinner for her parents, and it was a culinary masterpiece. What was going on with her now?

I face-palmed myself, wondering if it was the keyword "housewife" that was throwing her off. Was she feeling intimidated or something? I glanced at her, trying to read her expression, but she just looked... lost.

"Hey, Mariam, are you okay?" I asked, concern etched on my face. But before she could respond, Ms. Martha clapped her hands, signaling that it was time to plate our dishes.

"Alright, class! Time to present your dishes! Let's see what you've got!" The room erupted into a flurry of activity as everyone started plating their food and arranging the tables. I glanced at Mariam, hoping she'd snap out of her funk and join in. But she just stood there, looking... uncertain.

Once we'd finished preparing the dinner table, Amin, Mariam, and Maya looked at me with sheepish grins, their faces flushed with embarrassment. I glanced at them, confused. "Uh, what the hell is going on here?" I asked, my eyes scanning the table.

The aroma of the food wafted through the air, making my stomach growl with hunger. We hadn't had lunch yet, and the sight of the prepared dishes was tantalizing. George from the next table leaned over, his eyes wide with admiration. "Bro, yours is much better than ours. It smells really nice in my opinion."

I chuckled, feeling a bit proud. "Uh, just plain simple, right? Aren't that something all of us could handle?" I said, trying to downplay my cooking skills.

But everyone shook their heads in disagreement, their faces serious. Ms. Martha nodded in agreement. "Ummm... I think you're in the wrong class because you can handle it well." Her words were laced with surprise, and I felt a bit self-conscious.

Maya looked at me with a curious expression. "I wonder what kind of lifestyle you've been living now..." she said, her voice filled with intrigue.

I shrugged, feeling a bit annoyed. "Just a simple life... I think..." I replied, trying to keep my cool.

But the class responded in unison, their voices dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah... right..." I glared at them, feeling a bit irritated. What was that supposed to mean?

Ms. Martha began tasting the dishes from each group, her face a picture of concentration. Most of the groups had done a decent job, but one dish stood out - Laila's. Her dish looked like a 5-star gourmet meal, the presentation impeccable and the aroma heavenly. We all watched in awe as Ms. Martha took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Wow, Laila, this is incredible," Ms. Martha said, her voice filled with admiration. It was clear that Laila had a talent for cooking.

I shrugged, not really caring about the commotion. "I don't mind about it, but one thing's for sure - that dish is artistic, considering it's just a sardine tin, eggs, and some instant veggies!" I said, trying to keep a straight face.

My team, however, looked like they were drooling, their eyes fixed on the food with an unnerving intensity. Ms. Martha smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Alright, since lunch is about to start, why don't we enjoy this...?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before she could finish, the scene erupted into chaos. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly everyone was eating like there was no tomorrow. The room was filled with the sounds of clinking utensils, happy chatter, and the occasional shout of excitement. I watched in shock, my eyes wide with wonder. What the hell was going on here?

Ms. Martha tried to restore order, her voice firm but amused. "Please calm down! There's plenty for everyone here!" But it was too late. The chaos had already taken over, and everyone was digging in with gusto.

I tried to eat with some semblance of manners, but it was impossible. The atmosphere was electric, and everyone was having the time of their lives. It was like a food fight, but without the actual fighting (well, mostly).

Just as I was starting to get into the swing of things, someone burst through the door. Oh no. It was Mr. Rahim and Ms. Genevie, standing right in front of us with huge smiles on their faces. But there was something intimidating about their auras, something that made me want to shrink away in fear.

Shit. Why the hell was I involved in this mess again?

The chaos continued, with Amin accidentally punching Mr. Rahim's face. Mr. Rahim's nose started bleeding, but he was still smiling, his eyes glinting with amusement. Amin's face turned white as he shouted, "Oh shit!!!!”

Mr. Rahim's expression turned stern, and he said, "Language... again... eh... AMIN!!!!!!" He instantly did a backbreaker, and Ms. Genevie chimed in, "What a rowdy bunch of kids!!! Even the Patriots are joining the fun!!!”

I tried to disappear into the background, waving goodbye to Ms. Martha as she pointed out the escape route. As I slipped out of the room, I could hear the screams and shouts from the others.

"You're ALL going to detention again!!!!!" Mr. Rahim bellowed.

"Girls, help me clean the place again! And Mariam, looks like you need a housewife training again!!!" Ms. Genevie added, her voice firm but amused.

Geez, that was scary. I managed to escape again, finding a safe haven away from the chaos. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of that madhouse.

The lunch bell rings, and the school erupts into chaos as everyone charges towards the canteen and cafe. But I'm not joining the fray this time. I've had my fill, and the terror of the incident earlier still lingers in my mind. The vibrant atmosphere of the school seems different now, and all I crave is peace and quiet.