Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 47 ' Goodbye.

"Did you hear there's a coach from Princeton University here to watch?"

I nod as Sam's body bumps mine, though I haven't the least idea of what she's talking about.

"Great opportunity for players looking to go to the university! They could get scholarships."

I nod again, opening my locker.

"Including Jason!" Sam adds, her eyes gleaming expectantly as they stare at me.

"That's great," I say, my dead voice telling a different story.

I'm past caring though. The most I can do is say I'm okay, I won't stretch myself further by trying to act like it. I'll fail anyway.

"Are you sure you're—" Mal starts.

"Let's go," I cut in on purpose. "Sounds like the match is starting." And without waiting for a response, I start tailing the moving crowd of students.

———

I find myself looking for Mom.

Dragging my downcast self through the rows of seats and hoping to catch sight of her. My search isn't going well, mostly because I'm avoiding faces, and partly because I'm too sad to summon the energy needed to look for someone in a seated crowd.

"Yesmi!"

I swerve, my mouth opening to a large grin when I see two people waving at me from the bleachers above. I hurry to a parting and climb up, then settle between Mom and Mr Philip.

"I knew you'd want to stay with us," Mummy says and chuckles, throwing her arm around me and resting her head on my shoulder.

I smile shyly, absent-mindedly watching the procession of the players.

'I'll be there in an hour'

In an hour. No, it's probably only forty minutes left now. Or even less.

One of the players looks at our spot and Mom jumps up. She raises a placard and waves it wildly. Looking closer, I recognise Jason. And smile.

He grins, so wildly that I can see it from here. The cardboard continues its waves through the air, Mom not pausing for a second and the smile on her face growing bigger, even after Jason turns away.

"Don't you think that's okay?" Mr Philip asks, a sly smile on his face as he leans back.

"Shut up!" Mom snaps and he laughs. She stops seconds after and directs the heartwarming smile our way. "You guys must want ice cream. I'll get it."

God forbid.

"No, no," I refuse, yesterday's incident rushing into my head. "No, please. Thank you."

I don't think I ever want to have anything to do with ice cream again. What if I get one and it flies off my hand into the field and counters a goal from Jason? The chances are probably zero, but probably-wise, I won't take the risk. These recent days have been wild.

"Popcorn then?" Mom offers.

"Yes, popcorn."

She leaves and returns immediately, clutching five popcorn packs. She dumps three on my lap and gives one to Mr Philip.

"Or do you want me to hold them for you?" she asks, her warm eyes gazing at mine so intensely that I fear she'll see my soul.

Guilt engulfs me and I look down. I feel like I'm betraying her. She'll be so upset once she realises. She'll be so so upset.

Then she'll be happy thereafter. There would be no spoiled brat to bother her. Right . . . ?

"Sweetie," her hand wraps around my jaw, turning it so I'm forced to face her. Her eyes ask all the questions her mouth fails to.