Becoming a Middle Schooler, Growing Taller
“Ah... ah.”
“What are you doing?”
“Ah. Ah. Ah.”
In the classroom, Yohan pressed a finger against his Adam’s apple and made sounds. Hailey watched him with a look of pure pity.
“Have you finally lost it?”
“Hailey. How does my voice sound?”
“Not great.”
“Really? The other kids said it was good.”
“They’re the weird ones.”
Spring had passed, and both the season and the school term were nearly over. Yohan’s voice had dropped a little lower than before. His voice was breaking.
“Ah, mm, ah, mm.”
“Can you stop already?”
“You try it too.”
“Mine hasn’t changed.”
“No, listening now, it sounds a little more grown-up than it used to...”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Say something.”
“Aaaaaah...”
Normally Hailey would have shut down Yohan’s suggestion without a second thought. She would have gone further and snapped that it was childish. The reason she quietly made the sound anyway was because of what he had just said—that she sounded more mature. She always called herself an adult, yet she knew perfectly well she was still a kid. When honest Yohan said something like that, she couldn’t help but listen.
Yohan listened carefully to the sound she made and said,
“Yours has gotten a little lower too.”
“I can’t tell... Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure. You’ve matured.”
“Hmm... Is that so?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Graduation present must be a voice change.”
Yohan and Hailey were about to graduate from elementary school. Feeling sad about parting with the friends they had grown close to? Not even a little. In Italy it was common for middle schools to be assigned by school district. Trigoria itself was a suburban area, and within the district where Yohan lived there was only one middle school. The same was true for Hailey, so unless they applied somewhere else, they would move up together. Their other friends were the same. The middle school was right next to the elementary school to begin with, and like most kids born and raised in the countryside, nearly everyone ended up at the same school.
High school, though, was different. Even kids from the countryside often went their separate ways. Unlike Italy’s three-year middle schools, the five-year high schools were divided by a student’s academic results and goals. The main types were general, technical, and vocational high schools. More than half of students went on to general high schools, but in rural areas the rate of vocational high school enrollment was a little higher than in the cities. There were also schools specialized in arts and sports, and international schools. In Yohan’s case, the nuns had already decided that once he finished middle school he would enter an international school. The religious facilities that doubled as orphanages were connected to Catholic-based religious international schools. The Trigoria Convent was not an orphanage, but it had received special permission from the Vatican so that Yohan alone could receive the same benefits as an orphanage child. Of course, if Yohan wanted something else, they were ready to send him to whatever high school he wished.
Caroline wanted to send Hailey to an international school that followed an American-style curriculum, but there was no such school nearby, so she hoped to send her to the same place as Yohan. Or, once Hailey turned fourteen and finished middle school, they might simply return to the United States.
“Ah... ah... Cool, right?”
“Not even a little. How about me? Aaaaaah...”
“You sound like a vicious villain.”
“Want to die? I’ve been going easy on you lately and now you’re getting cocky? Listen again. Ah... ah...”
“Oh. This time you sound like a cat.”
“Really?”
“Like a fierce alley cat.”
“You little...”
“How about me? Don’t I sound like an actor?”
“No. You sound like an extra who gets shot and dies squawking.”
“That’s harsh.”
“It doesn’t sound like that at all. Deep down you know it too, don’t you?”
While their parents were thinking about high school, the two of them themselves weren’t thinking about any of that. They were too busy listening to each other’s voices and giggling.
Roma’s U-11 team finished the season by completely dominating their league. It was a regional league without a points system, yet no one belittled Roma’s results. When people talked about the strongest U-11 side in central Italy, Roma came first and Lazio second. That ranking, however, did not last long. It was a star that shone for only a single year. Because youth squads had so many age-group teams, highly rated players were often promoted. That was exactly the case with the current Roma U-11. Some players aged out and moved up to U-13 because of talent; others left the club for personal reasons. Plenty of spots opened up. Those empty places were filled by the players who had once played with Yohan in the Pulcini, along with the boys who had joined through the summer entrance trials and were now moving up to the U-11 team.
“Ponti! Davi! Pietro! You’re here!”
While Yohan cheered and welcomed them, Bianchi put on a serious face and preached about the dangers of the U-11 side.
“This place is hell. It’s war every single day. If you don’t work hard you’ll fall behind right away, so you’d better be careful.”
“There he goes with the hazing again. Just ignore him.”
The teammates who knew Bianchi’s personality laughed it off, but the handful of players who had come through the entrance trials did not. Coming from a player at a prestigious club like Roma, the words were taken at face value and made them tense. That lasted only a short while. Living in the dormitory, they adapted quickly and cheerfully prepared for the season by following the training curriculum the coaches had prepared.
While the U-11 team was sailing along smoothly, the atmosphere around Roma’s first-team squad was also good. The manager who had taken over mid-season two years earlier and secured a Champions League spot had done a solid job of pulling the team together. The previous season they had finished fifth and their European results had been nothing special, but considering the lack of club support it was a decent showing, and the performances themselves had been good enough that the fans liked him. Still, there were things that worried the supporters. They feared Roma would settle for simply holding onto a European place instead of becoming a genuine title contender. Lately the hardcore ultras had been pressuring the club to open the purse strings a little, but the Roma owner—an Italian businessman famous for being tight-fisted—paid them no attention at all.
Saying things he didn’t even need to say only made the fans furious and planted seeds of doubt in the players as well. On top of that, when American capital showed up with a fat check the owner positively considered selling the club, only to botch the deal halfway through and gift the fans a fresh case of heartburn. While the first team’s off-season was never free of storms, time for the U-11 team flowed quietly.
Then, in September, as the midsummer heat began to fade, the U-11 team played its first match of the season. Around the same time Yohan entered middle school, his height shot up. Once he had been smaller than the average for his age; now he was right around average.
“Shorty.”
“.....”
“Go on, say you’re taller than me now.”
The problem was that Hailey had grown far more than Yohan, and she was now genuinely taller than him. One day she measured their heights, realized she had overtaken him, and began teasing him mercilessly about the difference.
“I used to be taller.”
“You’re not now.”
“I’ll grow more soon.”
“I will too, you know? Don’t worry, little turtle. I think of you like a little brother, so if anything happens to you I’ll step in and protect you.”
“You’ve never tried to protect Aiden. You just pick on him all the time.”
“When have I ever picked on him? I’m his big sister, so I give him helpful advice.”
“I don’t think that’s what it was...”
“Anyway, stop being cheeky now.”
“Mmm.”
“Nothing left to say so you’re just going ‘mmm’? Fine, I’ll let it slide today. In Korea you call people older than you ‘hyung’ or ‘noona,’ right? Call me noona.”
“That’s for people who are older, not taller...”
“Just say it already.”
“No.”
“Getting older and now you’re bold enough to talk back? Where do you think you’re going! Don’t run!”
Inside the classroom, Yohan slipped away with a drooping expression while Hailey followed, snickering. The middle school Yohan now attended was full of friends from the same elementary school. There weren’t many classes, so more than half of Yohan’s class was made up of familiar, close classmates. To them, the way Yohan and Hailey acted was simply everyday life.
“Little turtle, want me to buy you ice cream?”
“No.”
“Why not? To celebrate becoming your noona I’ll buy you two.”
“You’re not my noona.”
“Yes I am. Or should I buy you milk? That’ll help you grow taller.”
“In half a year you’re going to regret acting like this.”
“No I won’t.”
Children grow fast—physically and mentally. That was true for Yohan and Hailey as well, yet at their current age the two of them still went around having conversations that might look a little childish. It was fun, and it was funny. There was no other reason.