Sing Of A Tree In The Wild

Confetti

5th of June

8:33

Dennis

I wonder what I’m going to do to these red, tired eyes.

Rather than take my own advice by getting some sleep last night, knowing fully well that the team had a final on its hands today, I stayed up till 1p.m, reminiscing about the circumstances that surrounded my breaking into the first team; fantasizing about how sensational today’s victory will be, which would be the perfect icing to our campaign cake.

After the iconic set of 2011 fell off at the hurdle we crossed exactly three weeks ago, no Grace team had been able to go further than the quarter-final stage. This year, however, the story turned out to be different.

After Saint Gregory and CMS, nothing, nothing could possibly….

“Can’t I ask him? Answer me now!”

For the meantime, I was oblivious of my necessary evil’s presence. She moves from my side to face me directly, giving me a pleading look. She isn’t done tabling her absurd request….

In all honesty, her request isn’t exactly absurd. I simply don’t want it to be granted.

“I heard Coach Jide discussing it with the Principal yesterday. He wants some students to follow the team to Teslim Balogun Stadium to cheer you guys to victory! He won’t mind an extra volunteer, would he?”

Oh please, don’t give me the Puss-In-Boots eyes.

“Look, the second bus meant for the cheering students can’t even contain everyone, let alone someone as fat and stubborn as you.” I sincerely hope that kills off her hyper, infuriating mood.

But it doesn’t. “We both know I’m not fat.” She says, topping it up with a defiant, smug look. “But as undeniable as the second fact is, it isn’t logical enough to hinder me from going with the rest.”

My next excuse comes through quick enough. “Where were you when they were putting down their names yesterday? Besides, you didn’t even inform Mum or Dad before we left for school. It was now you remembered, huh?”

Amarachi lets out an “Urgh!” before letting her head fall. I edge closer to her and crouch. I begin in a low, comforting tone, “I don’t want to be the reason for your late arrival at home today; we both know that mum won’t take it lightly with me. Forget about it, Amarachi. You aren’t going.”

Now, there’s the sad face I was waiting for!

She looks at me with feigned disappointment before looking beyond me. Immediately, her eyes glint with glee as she exclaims, “Coach Jide!” before running past me and towards Coachie. There’s no way in hell that he wouldn’t give into Amarachi’s persuasion. A witch like my sister can activate any grown man’s mumu button.

“Amarachi!” I hear Coachie say with a hint of surprise. I stand up and turn back just in time to see him give Amarachi a side hug.

“Ahan! Fine girl! How are you?” He asks, looking at her as though he hadn’t seen her before. Amarachi turns her gaze from him and pouts.

“I’m not fine, sir.”

Here we go, people. Here we go.

“Why aren’t you fine? Did Dennis do anything bad to you?” Right now, Coachie is displaying a side of himself that me and my teammates never get to see on a normal training session. Who knew Coach Jide could be this soft?

“Yes,” Amarachi says, sounding like a pained two-year old while giving an affirmative nod.

“Ahh, Dennis!” He turns to me now. “Are you a coward that hits women? Don’t you know Amarachi is the fine version of you?”