5 | Taming The Devil

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Khoshekh was waiting for Rosalie when she returned home that evening, and tried desperately to stop the door as it closed. She used her foot to dislodge him from the door and said, politely, "No, my good sir, you may not leave."

In the midst of scolding Khoshekh, a voice sounded from down the hall. "Rosalie! Is that you?"

"Yes, Ma!" she said. "Just back from practice!"

Rosalie's mother stepped out from her office, black hair pulled back from her face with a tie-dyed headband. Rosalie meandered over, side-stepping Khoshekh's adamant quest to trip her. At the door to her mom's office, Rosalie lowered her backpack to the ground.

"How was your first day?"

Rosalie heaved a sigh before she could stop herself. She sucked it back in, though, and said, "It was fine."

Her mom raised an eyebrow, and it became apparent that there was no way a sigh like that could be skimmed over and chalked off as "fine."

"Okay, well. There's this new girl who's just... rah!" Rosalie throttled her hands in the air like she was strangling someone. She sauntered into her mom's office with a dramatic slump and threw her hands up. "She started a fight, punched a guy right in front of me, and then she's in all of my classes! And just when I thought I was in the clear, Principle O'Gallagher forced her to sign up for a sport, and so now she's on my team."

"She has to go through tryouts, doesn't she?"

"Well. Sort of..." A sore subject by now, but news that would likely spread through the school by tomorrow. And so, Rosalie delved into the tale of how Joanna deflected a soccer ball at full speed whilst doing a cartwheel. Despite her epic tactics, killer aim (sorry Alyssa), and strong arm, Joanna was just as useless as her motivation when it came to applying any of that in an actual scrimmage or practice.

"It's almost like her attention span is limited to horsing around," Rosalie explained.

"ADHD?"

"Mom, come on."

"What? I'm being serious. She could just have ADHD and you're making a bigger deal out of it than you should be," she said, and Rosalie rolled her eyes and slumped in the cushioned armchair across from her mom.

The kettle in the corner of the room was boiling and clicked off a second later. Rosalie followed her mother with her eyes, watching as she pulled out two mugs and filled them each. She topped it off with a scoop of tea leaves and let them float idly in the water.

"Kids with ADHD aren't always problem cases, you know," Rosalie said. "I think this is more of a topic of morals than mental health."

"Right. Sorry. I guess I'd have to meet her myself for the latter," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Speaking of—you mentioned Sami wanted to throw a party."

"Throw a party, and then associate it with the soccer girls and swim team," Rosalie corrected. "And? Consensus?"

"Denied," she said, and Rosalie didn't have the energy to slump any further. She knew the answer before her mother even opened her mouth. "Sorry, Rose."

"It's fine. Hosting parties is always stressful anyways," she muttered, picking at the dandelion-yellow fabric on her chair. She kicked a leg over one of the armrests.

After several more minutes spent reclining in her mother's office, Rosalie took her tea and went to her room, Khoshekh was already waiting at the steps, eager as ever, and ran ahead to Rosalie's room. He stood outside her white door, and then again at the bed as Rosalie dragged her backpack up to it.

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