chapter 24: WHIRLWIND

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The crisp morning air cut through the remnants of the night's soreness, but the news about my grandmother's successful surgery filled me with a warmth that eclipsed the physical discomfort. As I walked into the school grounds, the vibrant colors of optimism painted my mood. That was one thing off my shoulders I felt great and today was going to be just amazing. It was a beautiful day.

Suddenly, Andy rushed towards me, concern etched across his face. "Sierra, I heard about your grandmother. Are you okay?"

I mustered a smile, not wanting to dampen the day. "Hey, Andy. Yeah, everything went well. Thanks for the concern but you don't need to worry about me."

He nodded, a mix of relief and guilt in his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

Honestly I was over the Andy's identity crisis plus the drama that came with him these days. I just wanted zero drama and positivity all the way. I thought it would be me and Andy against the world but I guess I was wrong.

As I walked away, I noticed Haden waiting by the entrance, a flower in hand. Confusion danced across my thoughts, but I accepted the gesture with a nod of gratitude. What the hell was this boy upto I couldn't help but smile at the flower, it was cute and it actually made my day feel even more positive. I shook my head as I walked forward.

Approaching Felicia and Tristan, I greeted them with a forced cheerfulness. They both had frowns on their faces, Felicia looked disappointed while Tristan just looked annoyed as he glared at the flower in my hand.

"What was that all about" Tristan asked in a dry tone.

I sighed trying very hard not to just roll my eyes and walk away "I have no idea ,he has been extra nice eversince my Grams got admitted. She is in hospital so he has been giving me these" I said looking at the flower with a smile.

Felicia's eyes betrayed a sudden realization, and her expression shifted to one of apologetic concern.

"Sierra, I'm so sorry about your grams," Felicia said sincerely.

"It's okay, really. She's doing fine now," I assured her, appreciating the genuine concern.

Tristan, ever the embodiment of unpredictability, seized the opportunity to add his peculiar touch. Grabbing the flower from my hand, he casually tossed it away. "Flowers from heathens bring bad luck, Sierra. You don't need that nonsense around you."

My annoyance flickered briefly, but I held my tongue. Instead, Tristan casually placed his arm around my shoulder, asserting a possessive claim. We walked towards the classrooms, the awkwardness lingering beneath the surface.

As we entered the bustling corridors, the echo of whispers and hushed conversations followed us. Tristan reveled in the attention, unfazed by the curiosity swirling around us. I, on the other hand, wrestled with conflicting emotions, unsure of the implications of Haden's newfound gestures and Tristan's possessiveness.

The shrill ring of my phone interrupted the chaotic rhythm of my day. Glancing at the screen, I noticed it was my therapist. A gentle reminder that in the whirlwind of events, I had missed several sessions.

Taking a deep breath, I answered and agreed to meet. The therapist's office, a sanctuary of calm and understanding, awaited my arrival.

Dr. Foster welcomed me with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Sierra, it's been a while. How have you been?"

The weight of recent events found a release as I settled into the comfortable chair. "It's been a rollercoaster. My grams had a successful surgery, but I've been caught up in this boxing thing."

Dr. Foster listened attentively as I poured out my fears and anxieties. "I was scared, you know? The thought of losing my grams... it terrified me. And now, with boxing, it's like this pressure cooker. It's carrying my life, my relationships. Everything revolves around it."

She nodded, understanding etched on her features. "It sounds like you've found a lot of meaning and purpose in boxing, Sierra. But it's essential not to let it become an overwhelming burden. You need to prioritize your mental well-being."

I sighed, the weight of her words sinking in. "It's just that everything is happening so fast. New friends, a boyfriend, this bright future everyone keeps talking about. It's all tied to boxing."

Dr. Foster leaned forward, her gaze steady. "it's crucial to recognize the positive aspects of your journey, but don't let them become sources of undue stress. You're not defined solely by boxing; you're a person with many facets."

She encouraged me to explore ways of managing the pressure, to find balance amidst the chaos. "Your well-being is paramount, Sierra. Take time for yourself, and remember, it's okay not to have everything figured out."

Leaving the therapist's office, I carried with me a newfound awareness. The path I tread was undoubtedly challenging.

The evening draped my room in a soft glow as I scrolled through my phone, soaking in the tranquility after a hectic day. Just as I was lost somewhere on instagram, a sudden knock echoed through the quietude, followed by the chiming of my doorbell.

Curiosity stirred as I descended the stairs, wondering who could be at the door at this hour. To my surprise, it was Tristan, adorned with a bunch of roses as if he had just stepped out of a romantic movie scene. I wanted to cringe but I kind of found it cute which was weird since he annoyed the shit out of me.

"Hey," he greeted me, a hint of bashfulness in his expression. "I know I can be a bit too much sometimes, but I hope you'll bear with me."

His gesture caught me off guard, and I accepted the bouquet with a genuine smile. "Tristan, what's all this?"

He chuckled, his eyes reflecting sincerity. "Just a little something to brighten your evening. I know we're going through a bit of a whirlwind, but I do appreciate your company."

"Thank you Tristan I really appreciate this." I blushed

As if on cue, he gently planted a kiss on my cheek. The unexpected warmth lingered, leaving me momentarily flustered. "Good night, Sierra," he said with a subtle grin before turning to leave.

I stood there, roses in hand, watching him walk away. It was a gesture that added another layer to the enigma that was Tristan. As I closed the door, a mixture of emotions swirled within me-confusion, curiosity, and a hint of something unspoken.

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