*Charlie's P.O.V*
"C'mon!" Mia walks backwards. I freeze.
"Let's go!" I hear her whisper-yell again, disturbing others nearby. I don't want to be the cause of their plight; I relent.
As we reach the school arena, she surprises me by finding a deserted sitting area for us both. I reposition my earmuffs and numb the sudden chants reverberating in support of the team with what are now the highest points.
"Are we winning?" I ask.
She opens her mouth and points to the arena's centre. I frown, wondering how the polished wooden court's surface or the guys dirtying it answer my question.
"Dude, no!" She gasps.
Trailing her line of sight, I notice players in red scowling. I look at my red tie; we are losing.
I don't fault our players, though. The Anderson team seem tough, especially with their muscles poking out of their blue jerseys like this. My gaze darts to their coach and a few players jubilating. They are dialling their excitement down when I meet his grin.
He winks, and I squint, pretending to struggle to recognise him.
"That's their star player."
"Pardon me? Wait, let me take this off-"
"- I am saying the guy you're looking at is their star player."
Star player!
The noun phrase strikes me. My jaw drops.
A locker room conversation starts playing in my mind. After physical education - when my classmates were discussing who would win this game, - I overheard:
"Do you think they'll go easy on us after what happened last time?"
"Ya, what that Harry-kid did was pretty messed up. It's all fun and games till they have to rush their star player to the hospital because you poured pineapple juice on him.
"But what if he didn't know the player was allergic?"
"Oh please, it's on his insta bio. "
"The culprit was high, I heard."
An eruption of applause snaps me back to the present. That conversation was already a punch to my gut, but now I feel like crying. I shouldn't have allowed Mia to lure me to this spot where we can see each other clearly. I should have held my ground and stayed in the library.
"I should go."
"No! He's on the court," Mia flaps her hands at me. " Look!"
I really shouldn't, but I give myself five seconds.
One.
He is running on the court ...
Two.
He is receiving a pass ...
Three.
Dribbling ...
Four.
Shoots ...
"Oh, NO!" Mia screeches. I open my mouth too, though I am not sad about that.
I'm sad that he looks at me. When the crowd of Anderson students come alive, his teammates hurl him over their shoulders, and the intercom starts yelling about a spectacular play and a crucial game-winning shot; he sees me.
The game ends. The arena pulsates with energy. I quickly bid Mia goodbye and disappear through the back doors.
"Where are you going?!"
YOU ARE READING
No Pills
General Fiction*~~~~~~~° When Mia discovers her father's suitcase full of illegal drugs, she's plunged into a dangerous world of deceit and cartels. As she delves deeper into her family's past, she's forced to confront the possibility that her loving father may no...
