That night, we celebrated our victory at the cuisine restaurant in the hotel. Mrs. Sally called to congratulate us and keep us in high spirits. As an extra, she told us to go celebrate at the restaurant—that she'd handle the bill herself.
The restaurant was located on the third floor and was as elegant as the hotel, unsurprisingly. We sat at a large table, and soon after, a waitress arrived with menus and hand them out to us.
"Good evening everyone," she said cheerfully. "Welcome to the Clover Luxe. What can we get for you all to start off this evening?"
"We'll take a Caesar salad," Ms. Flores said glancing through the menu. "You guys cool with that?"
"Sure."
"Fine by me."
"Perfect."
Shortly after, a couple more waiters brought out our appetizers and set them on the table. We dug in right away. It was light, crunchy and delicious—just what we needed to start off the dinner. The salad was simple yet really, really good. A few minutes later, the waitress returned to our table to take our main course.
"I'll have the grilled lamb chops, medium," Ms. Flores ordered. "And some truffle mac and cheese."
"I'll take the seared sea bass with lemon butter," Laura ordered.
"Yeah me too," Zoë added.
"I'll have the tandoori chicken with saffron rice," Mackenzie ordered.
"For me, the wild risotto please. That's vegetarian right?" Henry asked.
"Yes sir," the waitress replied.
"Perfect. Throw in some extra parmesan too."
"Since when did you become a vegetarian?" Scott asked raising his eyebrows.
"It's just for tomorrow," Henry said calmly. "Gotta load up on carbs."
"Sure, sure," Scott said rolling his eyes. "The ribeye steak for me. Well done with herb butter."
"I'd like the filet mingnon, medium rare, with the red wine reduction. Plus, a side of mashed potatoes," Marcus ordered.
"I'll have some sautéed spinach with the butter poached lobster tail," I ordered.
"Wonderful choices," the waitress said writing our orders down. "I'll get those orders in, and let me know if you need anything else in the meantime."
While we finished up with our appetizers, the chefs were busy whipping up our main courses. The dishes began arriving after about thirty minutes, although Henry's dish came much later. The food was simply divine. To call it divine was even an understatement. My lobster tail was cooked to perfection, the flavors were sublime and the sautéed spinach crisp and tender. Every bite was like an explosion on my
tongue.
"My goodness," I sighed after a few mouthfuls. As I looked around, it was clear I wasn't the only one having an absolutely surreal experience as we dug into our food ravenously. Even Ms. Flores who was used to living large looked impressed.
By the time we had finished, we were completely stuffed and full, but there was always room for dessert.
"No need to complicate this one. Just vanilla ice cream would be alright," Ms. Flores ordered.
"And fortune cookies!" Scott added gulping down sparkling juice.
"Fortune cookies? What are we twelve?" Mackenzie asked.
"Everyone knows fortune cookies are like good luck tokens," Scott said. "And we need a lot of that if we're being real."
"Ok. Whatever."
In no time, she returned with eight servings of ice cream and fortune cookies. The ice cream wasn't anything too crazy. You really couldn't go wrong with a classic vanilla ice cream. It was refreshing all the same, and we were done eating after a few minutes. All that was left was the fortune
cookies.
"Check this out, mine says; 'Your dreams are within your reach.'" Scott said cracking his open. "I guess this means I have unlimited plot armor."
"You wish," Marcus sneered. "Mine says, 'Your kindness will be rewarded'." He looked blankly at us and stretched out his hands.
"I'm pretty sure the cookie was talking about karma points, not actual cash," I said yawning. "You're not getting paid bro."
"Maybe it's a tax refund or something," Zoë added, laughing.
"Very funny," Marcus said scoffing.
"Alright," Henry said breaking his open. "It says, 'Good things come to those who wait'."
"Maybe if we wait long enough, the wifi at school might actually start working," Scott joked. That one had us all laughing. Even got a smile out of Ms. Flores too.
"You gonna open yours next year?" Marcus said grilling me.
"Relax," I said cracking mine open. "Alright, so it says, 'The eyes that watch you are not always human.'"
Everyone became silent, as I stared at the fortune in my hand.
"Uh… I think I need to go refill my drink," Scott said laughing awkwardly. His remark didn't even get a laugh. Just awkward smiles and nervous glances. Pretty sure Henry faked a cough too.
"Hm. Weird," I said chewing on the cookie trying to seem unbothered. The silence stretched out for a while until Ms. Flores finally broke it.
"Well, we've got a big day tomorrow," she said wiping her fingers. "I need you in good shape tomorrow Henry. Hit the gym before you sleep."
"Ok," Henry groaned.
While I swallowed my cookie, which had left a bad taste in my mouth, Ms. Flores paid for our dinner and left the restaurant. Marcus, Mackenzie, Zoë and Laura also left soon after. It was just Scott, Henry and I
left at the table.
"You guys aren't going?" Henry asked.
"Nah. A light workout wouldn't really hurt. Besides there's not much to do anyways," Scott replied. "Dar you coming?"
"Yeah sure," I said. Maybe a good distraction was what I needed to clear my head. I was still feeling a little bit rattled.
***************
The gym was on the 13th floor and, all things considered, fairly standard. There were treadmills, exercise bikes, stepmills,
weight plates, dumbbells, barbells, cable machines, resistance machines, lifting platforms, foam rollers, roman chairs, russian twists—you get the idea. There was a group of three guys working sets on a TRX suspension trainer. Apart from them, and of course a gym staff member at the front desk, the gym was empty. It was kinda late though, with the time at 10:30 PM. Anyone still at the
gym at that time was easily a gym freak. Even though it was great that the gym
had a lots of equipment to choose from,there was still one major problem; they
were designed for humans, not vampires.
The treadmills for example, could only go as high as 14mph. That was barely jogging speed compared to vampires. The weights were also too light, having no strain at all. As for the battle ropes and other stretchable equipment, they would snap if we put in some effort. There really wasn't much we could do.
"Well this is just peachy," Henry said changing into his workout clothes. He picked up a medicine ball which weighed about 6kg. "The hell am I supposed to do with this?"
"Feels like a baseball," Scott remarked tossing it back to him.
"Try this one. It's the highest they have," I said passing another one to Henry. "This one's 15kg."
It was still far from heavy, but it would have to do for now. While Henry was busy warming up, Scott and I headed over to the
treadmills. We chose not to set them at max speed because the treadmills were close to where the three guys were exercising. Two teenagers jogging at 14mph was more than enough reason to cause suspicion.
"I'm already missing the treadmills back in school," Scott grunted. "Maybe after 2 hours we might begin to feel something."
"Like you even use them anyways," I scoffed. Pretty sure I haven't seen you in the gym since last year."
"Just because you haven't seen me doesn't mean I don't go," Scot retorted. "Ask Henry or Zoë, you'll see."
"Whatever."
"Hey, tell me something," Scott said, his voice taking on a slightly somber tone, "Do you think we can actually make it to the finals?"
The truth was, I really didn't know. A few months ago, I checked our history in the tournament and the farthest any set had ever gone was to the quarter-finals. That really didn't boost my confidence. "Honestly, I have no idea," I answered.
"Me too," Scott said. "It sucks that you're sidelined till then."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"I believe in us like crazy, but I dunno man. Some of the guys were going up against are even crazier."
"Well," I said sounding hopeful, "We're no pushover also. We've already aced the first part. Other schools see us as a main threat now. That has to count as something. We just have to do our best and hope that it's
enough to get us forward. And right now, it's up to Henry to keep us going."
"Speaking of Henry, you think he can handle the next round?"
"Henry is…Henry I guess. He's not the school president for nothing."
"And it looks like he's cutting corners again," Scott said with a nod towards Henry, who was furtively trying to hide a mobility strap he snapped in half.
"Classic Henry," I chuckled.
"I'm glad you still believe in us," Scott said absentmindedly. "These few days have been overwhelming. There's a lot of talent we're up against."
"We'll be fine," I said. "We have to be. There's no way I'm going back without participating in this thing."
"Always the optimist," Scott remarked grinning. "And this is why we're an unstoppable duo! There's me—the pessimist always overthinking, and then there's you—Mr. Hopeful with all the warm, fuzzy and corny stuff."
"Shut up dude," I said laughing while he joined in. We shared a moment of pure amusement, the tension long broken. For a moment there was no pressure or any worries. Just another moment of us being us.
"Hey," Scott said after a while. "It's been long since we talked liked this. Just the two of us without any distractions"
"Yeah you're right," I said. "Just hanging out and chilling."
"Give or take we should do this more often, except without these slow ass treadmills," Scott remarked.
"Stop acting like you're not at your top speed," I quipped.
Just then, Henry called over, "Yo Darmian! Come give me a hand for a sec."
"Looks like Henry needs someone to spot him" Scott said. "Don't worry, I'll keep the treadmill company."
"I'll try not to leave you here forever," I said heading over to Henry.
He was splayed out on the floor, his limbs at odd angles and his face scrunched up frustrated. He was using a weight to support his back as a makeshift prop, and looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Well this is interesting," I said watching him. "How's the workout going?"
"Turns out stretching with this equipment is harder than I thought," he said sitting upright.
"How can I help?" I asked.
"Just a few stretches should do," he said laying back down and raising up his left leg.
"Sure," I grumbled extending his leg. "Not sure how a hamstring stretch is supposed to help for javelin."
"You're forgetting I have to run before throwing," Henry replied. "It's not all about using your arms, you know."
"I'm surprised you know so much about it. You guys play it often?"
"Nah not really. Think we stopped playing it during physicals around year 16."
"Hm. So why'd Ms. Flores pick you for it then?"
"It's a delicate sport that needs skill. I'm probably the best in terms of dexterity."
"It doesn't really take much skill to throw a stick," I joked. "If you'd ask me, I'd say its because you have the most strength out of
all of us. Javelin is basically about who has the most strength after all." I thought he would laugh at my guess but he only looked serious.
"You're getting something wrong Darmian," he said lifting his other leg. "Sometimes, it's not always about raw power. Sure, it helps but that isn't a trump card by itself. Lemme give you an example; you remember our second spar when I won right?"
"Ugh," I groaned. "Not this again. You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"
"Relax. I'm not trying to gloat…yet," he said clearing his throat with a smirk. "But the reason why I won that second time wasn't because I was stronger. There really isn't any point in sugarcoating it Darmian. Everyone knows you're the strongest in the entire college. And no, I'm not trying to butter you up."
"You know you want to," I said twisting his ankle lightly.
"For what it's worth," he continued, "When you won me the first time, I decided to take a different approach the second time —no wasteful movements, just precise, calculated hits at the same weak points. Once you master that, you save energy and find better openings. The rest is history."
"Alright teach."
"Javelin isn't just throwing a stick. Everything has to be precise or else it's not gonna come off properly. Once you add strength plus skill, you get something pretty fire."
"I'll keep that in mind, although I'm not the one you should lecture," I said nodding at Scott. "He's been a little low on confidence."
"Scott will be fine," Henry said quietly. "I just know."
"Well let's hope tomorrow you don't fall flat on your face," I remarked dropping his leg while he switched into a squat position.
"Don't worry, I'm not sending you home just yet," he replied coyly.
"Not funny. What do you know about your opponent?"
"Not much actually. He's a pretty decent guy though. Crimstone aren't exactly strong when it comes to the physical aspect."
"You sound way too confident," I said raising my eyebrows.
"You'll see. Anyways, it's getting pretty late," Henry said standing up.
"Thirty minutes seems like a tame workout for someone with a match tomorrow," I said.
"We just ate a few minutes ago. You want me to throw up my guts because of a three hour workout?" Henry asked putting back some equipment he used earlier back into their racks. "I told you it'd just be a light session."
"All I know is I'm not the one on that pitch tomorrow," I said raising up my hands. "Suit yourself."
I waved over to Scott to indicate we were leaving.
"That was quick," Scott said as we left the gym. "You good Henry?"
"Yeah. Just need to get some sleep so I can crush it tomorrow," he answered.
Henry and Scott got off the elevator on their floor and I exited on mine. I had some trouble sleeping that night. I wasn't sure the
nagging feeling of uncertainty would ever leave until we somehow won this thing. Eventually, I began to drift off to sleep, still having no idea what would happen. But hey, I guess I'd find out soon enough.
***************
We got to the stadium late the next day. In a very strange turn of events, Henry couldn't find his lucky socks and was convinced it would tank his performance. As someone who also owns a pair of lucky socks, I actually got it. But the rest thought he was just joking— until he flat-out refused to get dressed until he found them, or we helped him look. While we scrambled around turning his room upside down, Ms. Flores leaned in his doorway with a cigarette dangling from her mouth—a sure sign she was sorely pissed.
It took about thirty chaotic minutes of flipping bed sheets, shuffling chairs, opening drawers, lifting rugs and digging through laundry before Henry finally remembered he'd left them at the gym yesterday.
"My fault," he said sheepishly.
"Better win today or you're done for," Ms. Flores growled.
Honestly I was just happy they were still there when he went back to get them. Imagine the ordeal if he didn't find it. Sheesh.
The stadium had been set up to look like a proper javelin pitch. Since we arrived so late, we couldn't sit as a group. While Ms. Flores went with Henry to the contestants' locker room, I finally found a seat that wasn't
taken right next to the Crimstone team, ironically. What were the odds?
"Hey, you're from Crescent right?" one of the Crimstone girls asked, glancing at my badge.
"Yeah. No hard feelings today, yeah?" I said flashing a smile and giving a quick nod to the rest of the team.
"We'll see if you're still saying that after this round," she replied with a half-smile.
After the opening formalities, the announcer began reading out the rules. The javelins were much heavier and larger than usual, but then again we vampires aren't exactly 'usual'. The first contestants were called up and stood at the run up area with their javelins grasped firmly. They had around 120 meters of throwing space. The scoring also worked differently from standard javelin. Each contestant got two throws. Whoever had the highest total would win. Pretty basic and simple.
The first match kicked off and the contestants were ready to get things going. It wasn't just any match though—this one had everyone watching. Tension was in the air. Everyone had something to prove, and sure enough, the throws were solid and exciting, the crowd getting into it with every throw.
There were some major shocks as well. Vanderlyn lost to Noctis, Ravenhurst just barely edged past Duskwood. And Wilson's college—Westhaven
got knocked out by Frostville. Each round was getting more intense as the competition heated up.
But nothing could match the anticipation I had for our turn. So far, we'd seen clean form and decent throws from other contestants. It was time to crank up the heat.
"The next round is Crescent College vs. Crimstone College. Contestants, please step up," the announcer called as Henry and his opponent walked towards the edge of the runway. "First throw goes to Henry Shackleford from Crescent College."
He took up his javelin turning it slowly in his hands. I could see the focus in his posture. That weird stillness he got when he locked in. And then, the whistle blew.
He didn't look at the crowd, didn't even glance at his opponent. He just took a breath and began his run. Slow at first. Smooth. Then faster, his shoes kicking up dirt with each step. When he hit the crossover steps, I held my breath as he shifted his weight, planted his foot firmly into the ground and launched like he was trying to pitch a fastball. The javelin shot from his hand like it was born to fly. A perfect arc swiveling with crazy spin as it sliced through the sky until it hit the ground with a clean thud.
People actually gasped. I think I did too.
One of the flag judges ran to the spot to measure it. "Ninety-three point four meters!"
Henry just walked back, calm as ever, like he hadn't just landed the longest throw so far. The girl next to me muttered something under her breath about "beginner's luck". Yeah right. She was sweating and I knew it. And that was just round one.
"Next throw goes to Jacob Brown from Crimstone College," the announcer called as he picked up his javelin.
He began his run-up with good form and let his javelin soar into the sky with a loud grunt. It sailed and dropped at a distance not too far from Henry's throw. It was a really strong throw.
"Eighty two point one meters!" the flag recorder announced.
Now it was the second round and Henry stepped up to the runway again. He bounced lightly on his toes, rolling his shoulders and eyes locked dead ahead. No smile, no nerves. Just pure focus. Then he took off. His strides were longer now—faster and sharper. I could actually feel the
weight of his steps hitting the ground. And just before he hit the throwing arc, he let out a short breath—almost like a growl—and launched. The javelin left his hand with a snap, slicing through the air like it was angry. It didn't wobble, didn't flutter. It flew like it knew where it was going. For a moment, everyone was silent watching the javelin move with grace. And the damn thing justkept going. It sailed way past the two markers on the field and crashed down with a heavy thud that kicked up a lot of dirt. The field judge just stood there, mouth half-open, like she was trying to figure out what she just saw.
"O…One hundred and twelve meters!!"
And the crowd lost it.
I leaned forward in my seat trying not to grin too hard as the cheers exploded before the scores were even in.
Jacob looked completely crestfallen and walked up to the runway less confidently than before after his name was called. There really was no point. Henry had smashed his way into victory. From Jacob's form, it was
obvious he was done. His body language screamed defeat. His throw faltered as his javelin sliced off course and landed skewed falling way behind his first throw. It was done. There was a polite applaud from the crowd, but the feeling of disappointment was obvious.
"Sixty-nine point three meters!"
"Well ladies and gentlemen," the announcer began, "with a total of two hundred and five point four meters against a total of one hundred and forty-five point four meters, Crescent College are the winners!"
While the crowd gave a round of applause for both contestants, Henry walked over to his opponent and hugged him—good sportsmanship, plain and simple. Henry was full of smiles as well, and pumped his fist in the air as he exited the field to the contestants' locker room to get changed while the last match followed after.
At the end of the day's activities, everyone cheered for all contestants as we began winding down for the day. As for me? I was just relieved we were getting closer and closer to the finals.
"I'd like to congratulate all participants in today's events," the announcer said once the ovation had died down.
"Tomorrow's events will be the round of sixteen and quarter-finals! The event for the round of sixteen will be tug of war!"
The audience erupted into applause again as the announcer continued, "The quarter-finals event will be pole vaulting. The draws will follow the round of sixteen, during the short lunch break. Thank you and that's all for today."
"Tough break," I said, standing up to the girl beside me. "You guys were solid though ."
"Yeah, yeah. You got us this time" she shrugged, trying to play it cool.
I waved at her and headed for the exit where Henry was. We were into the next round, and we did it in style! As long as we kept our morale high, I was starting to believe we could win this. Game on.