Free Telesa - The Covenant Keeper by Lani Wendt Young

hide behind a tree and go sit in the shade until the class was over. Nope. This teacher meant business.
    “Right, let’s start with five laps around the field.” A collective groan. “Then bring it together and I’ll put you into teams for a game of touch.”
    Touch? Okay, that sounded vaguely indecent. These people and their contradictory standards had me confused. Shaking my head, I joined the rest of the class as they started their lap around the field. I noticed that Simone was nowhere to be seen. Clearly, PE was not something that he did. Running in the blazing sun was a first for me but I resisted the urge to quit and slow to a stop like the others. The memory of my dad and I running our last 5k kept me pushing as, one by one, the others slowed to a stroll. Into the third lap, and the only people still running were me and a pocket of boys led by Mr Otele. There was an admiring glance from Maleko as I increased my tempo and easily overtook him on the last curve. He called out after me with a whoop.
    “Hey Leila! You’re not supposed to overtake the running man. Hey!”
    I could hear him gasping and puffing behind me as I accelerated at the last fifty meters. I threw him a smile over my shoulder as I sprinted to the finish of my last lap. Slowing to a walk, I was exultant as the adrenaline coursed through me. It had been months since I had last run. And it felt amazing. Even while wearing a ridiculous orange skirt. Mr Otele called us all in and several of the boys complimented me as we gathered under the mango tree.
    “Nice run there Leila.”
    “Yeah good to see a girl outrun Maleko the running man!”
    The class erupted into good-natured laughter as Maleko took a bow. He took a swipe at a teasing boy standing behind me before turning to flash me his smile.
    “Awww, I was just going easy on you, being nice to the new girl. Don’t want you to get scared off us Samoan boys ay!?”
    Mr Otele gave out directions for our game of touch rugby but I wasn’t listening. I was exulting in this new sensation. Is this what belonging felt like? Is this how it felt to fit in somewhere? I wasn’t sure. I had never been just one of the crowd. No different from my peers. People teasing each other. Laughing. I had spent so many years looking at life from outside the window that it felt strange to actually be in the room with everyone else. Mr Otele’s call for the touch game to begin forced me to put my thoughts aside.
    The touch game was fun. It seemed to consist of throwing the ball around and then running like crazy whenever it came to you, trying not to get touched by the opposition. It also involved a lot of screaming from the girls whenever one of the boys pretended to tackle them. And, of course, the requisite showing-off theatrics from Maleko. I was fast realizing that not only was he the class clown, he was also the life of the group, his energy and enthusiasm infectious.
    I was sorry when the bell went. Tired, sweaty and hot, but wishing we could play on. Back in the changing rooms Sinalei’s prattle wasn’t as annoying as it had been and I even fielded questions about Washington D.C. from some of the others. I had dreaded curiosity about my background, but it proved to be easier than I had thought it would be. No, I wasn’t here for good. Yes, I liked it here. No, I didn’t have any brothers and sisters (that seemed to generate some disbelief – solo childness being an oddity I supposed). No, I didn’t miss my school back home and yes it was VERY different from SamCo! I deftly deflected questions about parents and, once I emerged from the girls’ room, it was with no small sense of achievement. I felt like I’d passed through an inquisition and come out okay. And walking to last period with Maleko and a tall quiet girl called Leone was nice. Except for the on-going trash talk from Maleko about my running skills. He wanted another chance to prove he could outrun me and was determined not to let up until I set