Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4 - 7 2018 | Page 41

Nice is Nice?
French International School, Rajesh, Akash - 14
S
omeone shouted that it was my turn to go on. Suddenly, I was shoved onto the brightly lit stage and
I proceeded to do what I usually do when thrust in front of an audience. Sweat, panic. My heart
raced (it did the 100m faster than Usain Bolt), my palms were sweaty (like the Eminem song : "knees
weak, arms were heavy"). I just stood there and stared at all the people in my school, all staring right back at
me. And then I did what I did best. Talk.
"Hey everybody. My name's Shaka. People call me a nerd, but I'm not. I'm just a jock who's too cool for
sports".
A few chuckles.
"Either way, last year I went on the annual trip to France. It was memorable, exciting and just downright
amazing. I recommend it to everyone...but I digress. A lot of stuff happened on that trip and I learned
more over those two weeks than I do in most months of just school. I also saw some hilarious things;
people falling off boats, a girl trying to fight a crow for a cup of frozen yoghurt and what an Indian dream
smells like. Naturally, I'm doing some stand up comedy today, interested, listen on...
The blue skies of the Cote d'Azur welcomed us as we exited the Nice airport. Laden down with my heavy
bag and running on caffeine, the warm weather was like a breath of fresh air. I wasn't left speechless often
but I just stood there, letting everything sink in.
"This place is amazing!" someone to my left exclaimed.
I didn't bother looking. Waste of energy.
"Hmm. This place is nice." I commented.
Everyone within earshot simultaneously groaned (see what I did there; Nice, nice...).
"Nice joke mate."
I sighed. Bad enough I had to listen to this fake accent for the first flight from Hong Kong to Dubai. Along
with the four hour wait in Dubai and the second flight from Dubai to Nice. Now, I would probably have
to endure this for the whole bus ride. Typical of my luck. One more round of Australian slang and I was
going to spontaneously combust. Naturally, my friends got to sit next to each other. Just another day in the
life of me, Shaka. I would have responded (probably with a "shrimp on the barbie" joke) if Lea hadn't
arrived. Lea was one of my best friends and we talked a lot (often getting told off for our loud laughing).
She also was the only one who would actually save me from the clutches of Brian, this wild Australian (my
other friends would be too busy laughing at my plight). She quickly pulled me into a seat next to her on
the bus.
"You can thank me later." she whispered into my ear
Four days later, I was sailing off the coast of Monaco. Sailing is fun. Well, when there's wind.
Unsurprisingly, we got to use the paddles we had brought along in case of an emergency. Funnily enough,
we were the only group that had brought paddles along. This meant me and my crew of hardened sea dogs
blitzed the initial races. I could imagine myself at the helm of an ancient pirate vessel. Racing away from
the Roman Navy pursuing us through the Mediterranean, just out of range of their puny cannons. The...I
get carried away often. Anyway, it seemed too perfect when the wind began to pick up after just half an
hour of hard paddling. I could feel the wind rushing through my crew cut as our little catamaran skipped
over the azure blue waves of the Mediterranean.
"You see those handholds. Grab those and lean out over the side." Leo said from somewhere behind me.
"Hmmmm, let me think. That's an instant no," I replied. "Also, it's pointless."
"A ha! It isn't pointless. See, when you lean over either side, the mast's angle shifts due to the movement of
the center of mass. When you do it right, you can significantly increase speed and improve stability. It's
called heeling and is done by professionals."
He took a deep breath and promptly swallowed half the Mediterranean, nearly falling off the boat.
"Also, Lea is on the boat over there." he said with a smirk (after he stopped choking).
Peter chuckled from the other side of the boat. He had a perfectly built body, is pretty smart (not as smart as
yours truly) and has a great sense of humour. Naturally, he turned girls' heads wherever he went and he
didn't really understand my or Leo's plights. Either way, I couldn't refuse that offer. All the physics checked
out with me and our instructor had said prizes would be given to the first boat to complete the course,
which is why I wanted to win so badly (definitely not because Lea was watching). How badly wrong could
it possibly go?