CHAPTER NINE
KAYLAH
“I thought you weren’t going to answer.”
I roll my eyes at the combination of the voice and the greeting. But I’m sure she’s imagining me doing that on the other end of the line anyway. After all, we both know how much I don’t want this.
“I’m answering,” I say.
“What made you change your mind?”
“You.”
“I know you don’t mean that in a good way, but I’ll still take the compliment.” Of course she will.
“Is this the end of the conversation?” I say.
“You know that’s no way to talk to your mother.”
The same way it’s not very typical for a mother to threaten her daughter. I guess we’re both wrong.
“You said it would be two minutes,” I say.
“Well, this is the one so it might be longer. We haven’t even caught up on your new university yet.”
“There’s nothing to say.” I respond. “It’s an educational institution.”
“Is it at least going better than the last one?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I won’t praise you just yet. Term time has only just started so it’s not a good enough time to judge. If you can make it until Christmas without getting expelled then you’ve beaten your record.
I don’t care to say anything but, “Okay.”
“Have you taken up any new activities?”
“I told you I was still going to do Hockey.”
“And I told you that was ridiculous.”
“That’s literally what my Scholarship is for.”
“This is why we can’t connect. Because you always think you know better than my advice.”
I live in a world where self awareness is lacking amongst so many people.
I’m sure my inability to take her advice is we’ve never been able to correct, even when I was a child.
“It’s not advice if you’re telling me what to do.”
“You’re a child who has shown you have no skills of reasoning at all. Of course I will tell you what to do.”
“I’m continuing Hockey.”
I know what I’m up against here, what the consequences could be if I don’t fall in line.
But I’ve already started at this new university she decided on for me, I’m living in the house she chose for me.
If I decide to fall out of line with this one thing, it won’t be enough for her to ruin her personal image.
It’s what she cares about more than anything, and me playing Hockey is not a threat to that.
There’s a pause before she expectantly says, “Fine. But you better make sure you win the League.”
I don’t say anything.
“Okay?”
“Hm,” is all I let out.
“That’s it for today,” she says, but I can feel she’s holding back on an insult or too. I wouldn’t mind, I’m past the point of being offended by her thoughts about me. “See, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Hm.”
“I’ll call you in two weeks.”
“I know.”
“Bye.”
I’m glad she doesn’t wait any length of time for me to say it back, cutting off the call straight away.
I’ll take my where I can, especially because we both know I wasn’t going to say it anyway.
I turn to my front on the bed once I’m off the phone and throw my head against the pillow repeatedly.
“What the fuck is life?” I scream into the pillow.
This is just the first of these conversations, and judging by how that one went, I can tell it’s going to throw me off the rest of the day because I won’t be able to stop thinking about how much I hated it.
But at least I don’t have to worry about one of these phone calls for two weeks.
I hope the days goes very slowly in that case.
I try to tune out the sound of the duo in the house. I can’t believe I’m now going to be on the same team as them. I hear enough from Nathan as it is, with his room being just down the hall from mine.
I mean, there’s literally no escape from the three people I live with, but it’s especially worse with Julius because now we might actually have to talk to each other as co-captains.
But I’m not trying to think about that right now.
It was easy for me to put my actual studies out of my mind last year, because thinking about Hockey is that much more enjoyable for me. If anything, it’s what kept me going, the only thing that made me feel something when I immediately crumbled under the pressures of my course.
It’s still one of the only things that reminds me I am capable of feeling joy, so I need to hold on to it.
I pull up my timetable, questions already forming in mind as to how I’m going to fit all my lectures and assignments about Sociology into my life.
Everyone doing a sport has to pass their course, and while it’s not a difficult subject, I can’t predict whether the demands of university will get to me again.
My phone vibrates beside me and I welcome the opportunity to stop thinking about…everything.
Your co-captain will try to get you off the team. I can help you with getting off instead, though.
I’m quick to do a double take, reading over the words on my screen more times than I count. I’m trying to make sense of it but, but that’s not happening when one question comes to mind first.
How the hell did someone get my number?