PHOEBE
Persia and I charged up the field to catch a dead ball. The cheering and movement calls from my team became overwhelming.
“Come on, girl,” I muttered.
I swung my mallet, hitting the ball and moving toward another as the opposing team charged at me.
Persia was fast, but she wasn’t Monk. We also hadn’t spent enough time together to develop the chemistry needed for this match.
Still, I needed her to perform because winning would make my parents happy.
I wanted to talk to them about spring break, as I didn’t want to spend it alone at the farmhouse this year.
I planned to invite Xavier, and since this was the first boy I’d ever planned to bring to them, I thought a victory might be a good way to butter them up before I asked.
We were in the last two minutes, and the pressure was on.
I could see my mother and father standing on the side, their eyes intense.
I turned back to the field as Persia charged forward.
Lacy, my teammate, came around swinging at the same time as me, causing our mallets to clash, giving the other team the leverage to hit the ball and move it down the field.
“Fuck!” I shouted. Before I knew it, the game was over, and we lost. The first loss of the season.
Lacy and her pony Buck came near Persia and me. “Where is your head at, Phoebe? I was screaming I had it. Thanks,” she said before she and Buck trotted away.
My head was all over the place, and this loss was going to send me on a spiral.
Since the game was at my parents' facility, Persia didn’t need to travel and was kept in the on-site stable.
Monroe Park Club, another one of my parents' pride and joys.
It made me wonder how I lost at a place with my last name.
After closing the door and securing Persia, I decided to give up and not even ask. However, to my surprise, my mother was standing there.
“Phoebe, was your mind on a different planet because what I saw out there wasn’t my daughter who fights to win. You clearly didn’t give your all.”
“I did. Sometimes losing is a part of being a winner,” I mumbled as I walked off.
I could hear her coming up behind me. “Is it? You know Kyle—”
I spun and snapped. “I’m not fucking Kyle!”
“Phoebe Monroe!” she hissed.
It was the comparing me to Kyle. She was holding on to Kyle’s legacy so tight that she couldn’t even mourn.
It was as if my mother thought of him as if he was away on an extended vacation, and one day he would come home, but he wasn’t.
We had never discussed my brother’s death since it happened, and that tore me apart.
Kyle deserved better, but who was I to talk when I killed him?
I could see my father approaching us, and I knew this conversation was far from over. “Sweetheart, you and Persia need a little work. Spring break is approaching, and you two will have much time to work on drills together.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want to work with Persia. I want Monk. Honestly, I don’t want to do this anymore. If y’all want Kyle to do it, go dig his ass up!” I snapped.
I went to walk off, and my father gripped my arm, swinging me back.
“Now I don’t know what has gotten into you, but your spoiled ass needs to fix it.
Kyle has nothing to do with how you played out there.
I love you, Phoebe, but watch how you talk to your mother and me,” he said as he let go of my arm.
My dad went to walk away and stopped. “Oh, and Phoebe, we’re having a guest who’ll be spending spring break with us, and I expect you to be on your best behavior. ”
There was no way I was going to ask what I wanted to ask now. Little did they know, I wasn’t spending my spring break with them nor this fucking guest. If I wanted to keep my sanity, my best bet would be to stay at my apartment and spend time with Xavier.