This short story won me a 1st-year scholarship to the University of my choice. I wrote it in 11th grade. I have always wanted it to be the jump-off point for a novel. I like having a glimpse of what 11th-grade Ranbir thought was dramatic.
He knocked once, but that was never enough. Manpreet Singh raised his fist to the old door with no handle once again. The black paint had been gradually peeling off from all the previous fists that had pounded on the same entrance hoping to get into the school. It was the door leading in from the back parking lot. It was probably one of the most used doors in the whole facility yet there was no way of opening it from the outside. Manpreet grew tired and turned away. He raised his left foot and struck the door with all the strength he could muster. As he turned back around, the door opened slightly. Inside was a young kid he had seen often at this time of day. It was still early and he could still notice individual faces. Later on when the day picked up, the faces started to blur together, unless you stopped and paid attention. He gave the kid a slight nod as he walked by him. He was grateful for what he had did, but didn’t feel the need to smile. Smiles of that kind were rare at this place.
From the moment Manpreet left his house everyday he was acting. He walked with a slight limp, wandered around with the same neutral expression on his face, and nodded at any familiar person he saw. He had once acted differently, but out of habit this had become his new personality. The only reason no one noticed what he was doing, was because they were all doing it too.
He walked past the staircase that led to the upper floor. A couple of other kids were sitting there, staring him down as he went by. He guessed that they had probably heard him knocking but didn’t feel the need to get up and open the door. This lack of initiative didn’t surprise Manpreet, as he had the same problem.
He opened another door and walked down the L-shaped hall to his locker. He didn’t know the number on the front of it, and he barely remembered the numbers of the lock combination. He was simply accustomed to walking to the exact same spot and moving his fingers in the exact same way and placing his backpack inside.
After he had finished with this routine, he glanced up to see someone who was rarely known to wake up this early. First period was only 20 minutes away but it was still too far off in the minds of most of the kids. The face he had recognized was one with a smirk. It belonged to his friend, Krenar. Krenar’s family had fled Kosovo years back. Ever since he had stepped foot in Rexdale, he’d accepted the culture wholeheartedly.
Krenar approached and spoke. “What you saying?” He said this in the form of a question but as usual he wasn’t too concerned with the answer. This had become known as the proper greeting when talking to someone you knew.
Manpreet responded with the customary, “Nothing.”
“You heard about what happened yesterday?” Krenar inquired.
“Yeah man, its not like I turn off as soon as I reach home like you.” Manpreet was commenting on Krenar’s extraordinary laziness.
They were talking about a common event in their particular school. Some people would refer to it as an argument, while others would prefer to call it a dispute. In Rexdale it was simply known as “beef.” Of course this, along with most of the other vernacular used in the area originated from various other places, usually from the image of the urban United States they all saw in the media. Surjit, who Manpreet had known for almost nine years had gotten himself caught in a war of words with Amaran, another of Manpreet’s friends the previous day. Manpreet now faced a common dilemma for those around him. Since everyone had lived in close proximity with each other for atleast a decade, they were hesitant to take sides when two people they knew had a conflict.
This “beef” was said to be the result of a simple brush of the shoulder in the hallway. It always seemed that things this small in magnitude caused the biggest commotion, but Manpreet knew better. He liked to think of himself as an observant individual. Over the time he had been in school he had come to plenty of conclusions on the behaviour of his peers. He knew that there was always an underlying cause that neither party wanted to admit. Sometimes it was jealousy, other times it was hate, while plenty of times it was simply to gain a reputation. Credibility was not taken lightly in the neighbourhood. If someone felt you were portraying yourself as something you weren’t, they were likely to call you out on it. Of course, this was never a private conversation, and usually took place in front of a minimum crowd of twenty.
Krenar and Manpreet made their usual meaningless small talk as they made their way to the “spot.” The “spot” was sort of like a hub for all things in the school that didn’t have anything to do with school in the first place. Regardless of this fact, education of a different kind was often attained here. They saw the usual delinquents lined up against the multicoloured row of lockers. As they approached, Amaran came up to them and shook their hands. They crossed each others index fingers to form a sort of “X”, the signal to know that someone was from the area, although as it had become popular, it had started to lose its meaning as with everything else. Manpreet noticed that Amaran was dressed more casual than normal. This was of course because he wouldn’t want to get anything of value damaged in case of a scuffle. If anything new ever became fashionable, Amaran would be first to buy it, but Manpreet knew what he was really buying.
“What you saying?” Manpreet asked out of habit.
“Everything’s good. I’m really to bust some heads” Amaran was understandably in a more anxious mood than normal.
Manpreet examined the group of soldiers that Amaran had recruited to handle the situation. He tried guessing why each of them had made the decision they had. He looked at the first guy in line and knew right away that he was Amaran’s cousin. Family was probably the only reliable back up one had at this school. The next kid had “beef” with Surjit from earlier in the year. Manpreet knew because he had covertly kicked him a few times while he was on the floor fighting with his old friend. Manpreet gave him a slight grin and looked at the rest of the group. The all probably didn’t like Surjit for one reason or another and this was probably their excuse to come out into the open with their quarrels. Secretly, Manpreet was rooting for Surjit to come out on top, but he knew that it would be more advantageous for him to simply watch from the sidelines. He wasn’t eager to make enemies like a lot of the people around him. This was probably one of the reasons he had been able to slip under the radar for so long. Being the centre of attention may have had some advantages, but in Manpreet’s mind they were definitely outweighed by the pressure of maintaining reputation.
Manpreet left Krenar to converse with Amaran’s army while he went looking for the other person of importance at the moment. He walked back to the parking lot and glanced once again at the two kids on the staircase. He wondered if they had been permanently glued there as some sort of punishment. Manpreet opened the back door and looked into the distance. He was surprised to see Surjit’s car pulling up. The guy probably couldn’t wait to perform in front of everyone else. As he stepped out from the passenger side, he walked with his head high in the air and had a certain spring in his step. Manpreet held the door open for him signifying that he wouldn’t have to wait like everyone else as usual. Today, everyone else was waiting on him.
Surjit shook Manpreet’s hand and said. “What’s up?” He liked to go against the norm.
Manpreet wasn’t as anxious to stand out with his reply. “Nothing. You should probably get your boys together. They’re waiting for you at the spot.”
They walked inside and all of a sudden the two staircase dwellers jumped up. They both flashed smiles in Surjit’s direction. They weren’t smiles of gratitude of course, but of anticipation. They happened to be on Surjit;s side on this particular day, but they didn’t look like the type that would take a bullet for him.
“Yo, I saw them around the corner. Let’s go deal with it” The taller one waved his hands in the air while he spoke.
“Nah yo, not right now. I phoned up my other boys. They’re coming after school.” Surjit showed signs of hesitation.
At that moment, Manpreet started to breathe easier. He knew exactly what would transpire later that day. He said his goodbyes to Surjit and started to make his way towards class, but gave one last stare at his two friends. He was sure to let them know he wasn’t going to be an easy target. He could now pay no mind to the whole matter. He tried to picture the events of later that day in his head. He was confident that things would go exactly as he thought they would.
The day went by a little slower than usual. The second hand on each classes clock seemed to make it’s cycles leisurely, knowing that it would allow events to occur at it’s own will. Manpreet waited patiently for all three needles to line up at the exact time of dismissal.
At the bell, students started to filter out of class and make their way home. A large percentage of them walked quickly to the parking lot at the back. Manpreet opened the old door to see two crowds at opposite ends of the pavement. The people on either side eyed each other as if trying to pierce their opponents with their pupils. Manpreet walked towards the centre of the situation, but made sure to stay a little to the side to make sure he didn’t get caught in the crossfire.
Manpreet knew that neither side wanted to make a move. As soon as Surjit had hesitated in the morning he knew that nothing would happen. Manpreet knew that the tough guys his peers aspired to be would have dealt with the situation as soon as it had occurred. No one wanted to get his shoes dirty that day. At this school, if an argument didn’t morph into a fight in the first five minutes, chances were no punches would be thrown.
They stood there for what could have been hours. Slowly but surely people started to disperse. Soon only about 5 people remained on each side. They stood there as if their friends leaving had sort of left them naked and exposed. Finally, Surjit started to walk back towards the school. He made sure to never turn his back to his nemesis. The decaying door was his path back to being normal. He turned towards the entrance and knocked once, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough.