Marilyn: A decision between love and hate

chapter 6

Pedro's pov

Friday evenings bears the most weight of adversity with the realm of academia for me. It's my responsibility as the sport prefect to control the whole school every Friday during sports.
I hated my life at school and I hated my life even more at home

"There is no way, I'd have a status like this and my only son won't want to engage in anything at school, listen!,if you don't get that a barge as a sport prefect,I'll deal with you"

My dad's words still echoed in my mind, "Johnson Barlowe, one of the highest paid sports coaches in Nigeria." He constantly reminded me of his success, like it was a burden I had to carry. He wanted me to be a sports prodigy, just like him, and he controlled every aspect of my life to ensure that happened. But the truth was, he made my life a living hell. He sent my mom away, the only woman I ever loved, and took over as the dictator of my life. He acted like I owed him everything, just because he provided for me and got me into the best schools.

My feelings for my dad were a tangled mess - hate and love all mixed up. He was always so controlling, never letting me breathe. But what could I do? I was trapped in his web of expectations. All I wanted was to make him proud, to see that glimmer of approval in his eyes. So, I sacrificed my own desires, my own dreams, to appease him. I never really had a passion for sports, but he wanted me to be a champion, so I forced myself to excel. It was all for him, never for me. I was a puppet on strings, dancing to his tune. But deep down, a spark of resentment burned, waiting to ignite into a fire of rebellion.

"Damn!" George exclaimed, nudging me with his elbow as we arranged the sports equipment. "Pedro, check out those girls!" He gestured towards Bisola, Joyce, and Marilyn, his eyes wide with admiration.
The commotion around us grew louder, and I wondered if it was because of the girls' daring outfits. Their hair was styled to perfection, and their skirts... well, let's just say they were shorter than the standard school issue. They were definitely dressing to impress, and from the looks of it, they were enjoying the attention.

"Damn, Marilyn is so fineee!" George exclaimed, his eyes fixed on her with an unbridled admiration that made me raise an eyebrow.
I turned to him, and he was literally licking his lips, like a thirsty animal eyeing its prey.
"You sound like a 13-year-old who's never seen a woman's legs before!"
George burst out laughing, his hands on my shoulder, completely oblivious to my disinterest. "It's not even just the legs, bro! She's... wow!" He was swooning, and I was done with the conversation.
"Bro, are you done arranging the sports equipment?" I asked, brushing off his Marilyn-fueled frenzy.

"Are you questioning me? It's even your work, and I'm even helping you,aje no stress me" George said and I laughed.

George was the only student who knew about my dad and he had never mentioned it to anyone. I had kept my profile really low because I knew,once everyone found out I was Johnson barlowe's son.they'd start being all up in my business.

I was about starting the usual sport practice,when a random student tapped me

"Mr olawuyi said you should meet him at the storage room now"

I made my way to the storage room, my mind racing with questions.  Mr. Olawuyi , is the school's sports coach, he was always leading our teams to victory in national competitions. And, as I knew, he was also friends with my dad - a fact that made me both nervous and curious. When I arrived, I saw him lugging out a crossbar and landing mat from a smaller room.
I rushed to help him, my eyes locked on the equipment.
"High jump?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise. Our school had never included high jump in our sports program.
Mr. Olawuyi's lopsided smile hinted at a secret. "You know how to high jump, right?" he asked, his eyes glinting with a knowing look.
Of course, I did! My dad had taught me everything I knew about sports, including high jump.

"I want you to train the athletes , there is a high jump national competition that would take place on the 30th of October at abuja and our school is qualified for the game "

"Okayy??"

"Your dad is the sponsor of the competition and he ordered you should be part of it"..

A feeling of dread hit me, my dad being the sponsor equally meant that I had no choice than to win .

"What other schools are qualified?"

"Grenville academy,grisham comprehensive school, Mayweather high and Pinterest academy "

Tough!,they really selected schools best in sport for the competition.

"We need 8 students to represent Charleston high"

"Okayy, I'd select the students I feel are the best "I sounded confident"and I'd do my best and train others to be better"

"I love the confidence "

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marilyn's pov

Coach Olawuyi gathered us all, his eyes burning with intensity. "Listen up, students! The national competition is around the corner, and I need you all to take this training seriously. No slacking off, no excuses. We're gonna give it our all, or we're gonna fail."
I felt a surge of excitement, my heart racing with anticipation. I lived for sports, and I was ready to give it my all if selected for practice.
Then, Pedro took the mic, his voice dripping with an air of superiority.
"Alright, listen up, . I'll be calling out the names of those selected for today's practice. When you hear your name, don't bother taking your sweet time, just get out here "
Ugh, everything out of Pedro's mouth sounded so condescending, like we were beneath him. I rolled my eyes, ready to ignore his attitude and focus on the task at hand.

"Yves Morgan!" Pedro's voice boomed through the mic, and the students erupted in cheers and chants. Morgan stood up, a smirk on his face, and the crowd went wild.
"As usual," he said with a shrug, and I couldn't help but laugh at his confidence.
"Omggg!" Bisola screamed beside me, her eyes shining with excitement. "Everyone's sweetheart!" she added,
Cassie chimed in from behind her, "E don do!" We all burst out laughing at Cassie's dramatics.
But then, Pedro called out the next name: "Maxwell Marvin!" The noise level skyrocketed, and George, sitting opposite Cassie, whistled.
"Ah, the rivals!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Marvin and Morgan had been arch-rivals since junior secondary, their competitive streaks always pushing them to be their best. Many had predicted they'd eventually become friends, but from the looks of it, that seemed unlikely. The tension between them was palpable, and I couldn't wait to see how this played out..

"Chiori Chioma!"

Chioma, the health prefect, stood up, her dark skin glistening with a subtle sheen. She was a beauty, and her tough exterior hid a kind heart.
"Fine sissyyyy!" the crowd screamed, and I couldn't help but grin at her popularity.

"Adekunle Omoshola!"
Bisola, Joyce, and I exchanged a knowing glance, our lips curling into sly smiles.
"Witchhhh," we muttered under our breath, our eyes sparkling with mischief. They all cheered

this school was all about hype, and if you looked good, you were basically a superstar. Still, I had to admit, Omoshola was stunning, her beauty captivating even the most skeptical of hearts.

"Jefferson sunny"
The students clapped, sunny is another extremely rich students but alot of people didn't like him because he was fond of boasting.

"Lucy Adedeji!"
I felt a twinge of anxiety. What was taking so long? I was sure I'd be among the first four names called - I mean, come on, everyone knew I was way better than Omoshola, Sunny, and Lucy! I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my eyes fixed on Pedro. "Myself, Pedro Barlowe, and..." he paused, his gaze locking onto mine. I felt a jolt of electricity run through me, our eyes holding a silent conversation.
"Ajibola Marilyn," he finally said, his voice drawing out my name like a slow caress. I didn't even realize our eyes were still locked until Joyce tapped me, breaking the spell. "Go out nau!" she whispered, nudging me forward.

I felt a jolt of surprise as I made my way to join the other athletes, Pedro's eyes tracking my every move. I slid into place beside Morgan, trying to shake off the intensity of Pedro's gaze. What was that look? Disgust? Disdain? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it made my skin crawl.
"My princess," Morgan whispered, breaking me out of my thoughts. I forced a smile onto my face, turning to face Pedro as he continued speaking. My heart raced with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for us next.
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And how do you see Pedro's pov?