From the first word to the final line, always remember- whatever your game, play with your heart.
The Naviin Welcome
It wasn’t long until the airplane landed. A young girl with silky, black hair and fair skin shifted in her seat. She titled her head, waking from her sleep. The sun glistened through the window, giving her hair a brownish tint. The flight attendant came on and announced that they’d land in Dhaka, Bangladesh in a few minutes. The girl shifted in her seat. She took a look out the window and let out a huge breath. She had already left her beloved home of America. From this point onwards, it was a whole new game.
Meanwhile in Dhaka, two older boys with black hair scurried outside their house. The taller boy quickly pulled out his keys from his pocket. He opened his door and got in. He leaned over and unlocked the other boy’s door. He got in the car as well.
The boy in the driver seat started the car. The roads seemed full of traffic today. Both boys exchanged nervous looks. The boy driving tried to look ahead. The light was green but the cars weren’t moving. He wondered what the problem was. They needed to get going.
“Her plane lands in five minutes,” the boy in the passenger seat said.
“We’ll make it,” the driver said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
The young girl walked out of the plane after her flight landed. She walked into the airport. She scanned the area. Everything in Bangladesh seemed so diverse from America. The girl soon found her bag. She swung it around her and continued walking.
As she neared the exit of the airport, the girl looked around some more. A puzzled expression appeared on her face. She looked past the crowds of people. None of them were the two she was looking for. The girl looked up at the clock. Her brothers were supposed to be there five minutes ago to pick her up. Evidently, they were a no show. The girl continued walking. She walked straight out of the exit.
A few minutes after she left, the two boys raced into the airport. They looked in opposite directions. Neither one could see their sister. They both got worried. The shorter boy glanced up at the clock. It was already 3:00.
“Oh no, we’re late for tennis practice,” he said to his brother.
“That’s right.” The taller boy was in a predicament. He turned back to his brother. “Well, let’s go then.”
“What about Raima?”
“Well, she has an IQ of 170. I’m sure she can find her way home.”
The girl walked down the long streets. The weight of her bag pressed down on her shoulders. She stopped for a moment, and then continued walking. Finally, she came to a stop. A large school campus stood in front of her. The sign in front of her read Naviin Academy. This school was the reason she was here. The girl stood there for a moment, hesitant on whether she should go in or not. She decided yes.
As the girl walked farther, she noticed other students walking in the opposite direction. Most of them stared at her as she walked past. She ignored them. School hours were over. Everybody was headed home. The girl was about to enter the school when an unfamiliar sound caught her attention. She turned around and followed the sound.
It led her to a large tennis court. The girl went in further. There were five boys on the court. They all wore the same clothing. A match was going on, in doubles. One boy sat in the umpire’s position. He looked a little younger compared to the other boys. He watched their game, while calling out some words and phrases. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
The girl watched them play. She recalled when she was little, her dad used to talk about tennis all the time. However, the girl never had an interest for it. She much rather preferred more intellectual fixations, such as computer engineering. She never had an interest for sports in general.
Still, for some unknown reason, she wanted to witness a tennis match first hand. These boys looked like they knew their stuff. The girl slowly walked onto the court. The boys were much to focused on their game to pay any attention. Then the umpire noticed the girl. He looked directly at her. The others soon stopped playing and looked at her, too. The girl felt a slight bit uncomfortable.
“You there, this is a closed practice,” a boy with raven black hair called out. The girl didn’t say a word back. “What’s your name?” the boy asked. She didn’t answer. He stepped closer to her. “Hey, did you not hear?”
The girl just looked at him. She didn’t say anything. She then glanced at all the other boys. All eyes were on her. The girl felt a sharp sense come over her.
“You look familiar,” the boy continued. “Are you that prodigy from America? What’s your name?”
The girl took a deep breath. “Raima Rahman,” she finally said.
“Ah, so you are the prodigy.”
It was true. Raima happened to be a computer prodigy. Ever since she was little, she has had an exceptional skill for computers and their diverse software. Raima also happened to have a photographic memory. She could remember anything necessary at the appropriate times. Raima had an IQ of 170 and it was increasing, according to a recent IQ test she took in America.
Just then, the two boys from the airport stepped into the court. They were laughing on their way. Then, they spotted Raima. Both of them froze. Raima gave them a sharp glare. She crossed her arms. They both ran over to her.
“Raima, what are you doing here?” the taller boy asked.
“You two never showed up at the airport,” Raima replied.
“Well, we did but we didn’t see you,” the shorter boy said.
Raima’s older brothers were both on the tennis team. The taller and older one was Zarif Rahman. The shorter and younger one was Imran Rahman. They are both 3nd years at Naviin Academy. They were also the one’s in charge of Raima’s pick-up.
The boy who asked Raima for her name studied her features. He looked back at Zarif and Imran. They had a strong resemblance. The boy stepped back. He went and stood by his teammates. They all started approaching, too. They started talking. The boy noticed that Raima was staring at his tennis racket.
“Don’t even bother,” he said to her. “This team is strictly male.”
“Don’t worry,” Raima said back. “Tennis is not my ace game.”
“Do you even know how to play?”
The boy walked over to the bench. He picked up a racket. He held it out to Raima. She hesitated on taking it. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She was here in Bangladesh for a reason. Tennis was not it. Still, the boy insisted she show him.
“Come one, take the racket. If you’re so smart, you should have no trouble adapting.”
“Not interested,” Raima told him.
Raima started walking away. The boy saw a tennis ball at his feet. He bent down and picked it up. He glanced back at his teammates. His devilish smile said it all. The rest of the team knew that smile. Nobody said anything. The boy gripped the ball tightly. Then he threw it straight at Raima.
Raima’s keen senses picked up. As the ball was about to hit her, she extended out her hand and caught the ball. All the team members gasped. Raima was still facing the opposite direction. She squeezed the ball tightly. Then, she threw it back on the ground.
“Like I said, I’m not interested.”
From a distance, a very tall boy with brownish-black hair heard the noise. He wore the same exact uniform as the boys playing tennis. He turned his attention to the tennis court. He slowly walked over. A look of disappointment covered his face.
The first thing he noticed was Raima. He immediately knew it was her. He had heard a lot of talk about the 13-year-old computer prodigy from America coming to attend Naviin. For the past week, it was the biggest news on campus. The teachers spoke of her immensely. Their tennis coach talked a lot about Raima, too. She was friends with Raima’s father and thus, knew a lot about her.
Back on the court, the boy felt his body on fire. He would not let a little squirt like Raima make a fool out of him. The other boys looked at each other. None of them said anything. They knew their teammate. He was extremely hotheaded and aggressive. They didn’t wish to acquire any injuries. The quarrel was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
“That’s enough!” a deep voice said.