III
a r i a
MAKO SAYUMI SAT ON A bar stool and munched contently on a granola bar. She reminded me of a 3-year-old, twisting and turning in the chair to make herself spin. She watched me work as I cleaned tables and served customers as quickly as possible, not saying anything but making for good company.
She watched as I sent dishes to the sink and took orders. She never said a word but I knew she didn't mind visiting me from time to time, even if it was just to observe.
My mind raced with thoughts of Donovan and what he'd said at school, unsure of how to feel or what to make of our conversation, if you could even call it that.
I thought about it so much that I just convinced myself it was a trick, but it wasn't fair that he could do that. It wasn't fair that he thought he could get any girl he wanted, that he didn't have to try to get people to like him.
I guess that's what happens when you're rich, when you're the golden child in a school with a rusty reputation. He shone above everyone else, he lived up to everyone's expectations and he never disappointed.
I didn't trust him for the same reason everyone loved him. They loved him because they thought he was perfect, because he couldn't help but show the good side of him. The side that never ceased to amaze. I didn't trust him because I knew he wasn't perfect, but he lied to convince himself and everyone else that he was.
Maybe it was easier for him to live up to everyone else's expectations than to live up to his own. Maybe it took his mind off of himself, off of the rooftop across the street and the liquor that slid down his throat every once in a while.
I felt Mako's eyes shoot daggers my way as I hovered subconsciously over a table, staring at nothing in particular and utterly failing at doing my job.
"You okay Ari?" she finally said after minutes of dead silence.
Flustered, I grabbed all the empty cups and crumb-covered plates from the booth and made my way behind the counter, wiping the sweat off my brow. "I'm fine Mako. Just stressed, that's all."
She nodded her head once but being the friend she had for 8 years in a row, she didn't look convinced. "You don't look fine."
"Trust me, I'm as cool as a cucumber," I huffed. A strand of hair fell over my face and I blew it away, refusing to make eye contact with my best friend and swerving around her like I was dodging a bullet.
I told Mako everything, but for some reason I felt like I couldn't tell her this. It had to be the allure of friendship rules that made it feel so rebellious to keep a secret from her.
I hadn't told her about seeing Donovan on that rooftop either. I hadn't told anyone actually, not even him. He didn't need to know about it, it didn't seem like he'd care.
I occupied myself by scrubbing the front counter like I'd done a million times before, staring at my warped reflection in the granite when I heard the bell over the door ring.
Strong footsteps made their way to me, a figure that towered over mine blocked the light from the window. My eyes met with green ones as I looked up to see who it was, frozen in my spot from shock.
Donovan strode in and made his way to the front counter, unaware of the other pairs of eyes that stared him down. People in this town knew who he was which wasn't much of a surprise, but for me, seeing him walk into the café was.
Mako's jaw hung low, mouth wide open like a Venus flytrap as her eyes lingered on Donovan. He gave her an awkward grin and turned to look at me, dimples poking at both sides of his face.
"Hey Aria," he greeted, my name casually rolling off his tongue. "Thought I'd visit you, just to see how you're doing and all."
"How do you know my name?" I blurted, realizing I sounded more rude than surprised. "I mean, you had no idea who I was earlier."
The truth hurt, even coming out of my mouth. He stared at me like his gaze would explain everything, only to answer my question once he realized I wasn't buying anything he was selling.
"Just a hunch I guess." He shrugged his shoulders, pretending like his answer made sense. "Hey, when's your shift done?"
"Soon, but I have work to do afterwards," I sighed, running a tired hand through my hair. I wasn't trying to avoid Donovan but something told me it was a better idea to work than to spend time with him. I had this gut feeling that wouldn't go away.
"You could join her if you want," Mako jumped in, her words tied together with strings.
I stared at her. "No, he can't."
"She coaches football for little kids." Mako pointed it out casually like it was the easiest thing to say. But I didn't want the quarterback of our school's football team to know that I coached the sport.
Donovan was the one who played football. I didn't want him watching, silently judging my coaching skills from the sidelines.
"You coach?" he questioned, pointing a finger at me. "You like football?"
"Yeah," I answered defensively, giving Mako a death glare.
"How come I've never seen you at any of the games?" he asked.
I didn't have the heart to tell him I did go to the games. I watched from the bleachers and criticized the team's plays but I never dared say anything about it. Coach Saunders would have my head on a stick if I did.
I stayed silent, like if I stared long enough Donovan would leave the building, but he never did.
"Can I come?" He ran a hand through his hair and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. His muscles were relaxed and he lent on one leg as he waited for me to answer. "Or not. I mean, we can hang out another time."
It was in that moment that I realized I was never going to get rid of him. "Fine," I said, giving in. "Bring your jersey."
d o n o v a n
Aria was ruthless. She blew the whistle and it echoed like a gong in my head while her voice tore and scratched at my eardrums. I'd never heard her yell so loud, but then again I've never heard her yell at all.
She reminded me of Coach Saunders, but in a good way if that was possible. She treated the kids like siblings, but powered them like machines.
No one noticed I'd showed up to the field and I guess I was thankful for that. Aria's yelling probably took the attention away from me, which I didn't actually mind all that much. She seemed to know what she was doing which was comforting.
"Excuse me Sir!" I felt a tug on the leg of my jeans and looked down to see a little boy staring up at me. "What team do you play for?" He pointed curiously at my jersey, a big number 37 plastered on the front.
I smiled at him, noticing how big his brown eyes shone through his football helmet. "I play for the Tigers." I ruffled the hair on top of his head and chuckled when he laughed. "What's your name?"
"Liam," he replied proudly, pounding his chest with his fist. "I'm Liam Crooke. And I'm gonna be the running back for the Denver Broncos—"
"Liam, sweetheart!" Aria blew her whistle lightly and looked back at the little boy. His head whipped to the side and he left me as quickly as he appeared, running to his coach with the speed of a cheetah.
He charged back into the game. I approached Aria and watched the game with her, sensing her muscles stiffen the closer I got.
I didn't know how to approach her, what to say or how to say it. She seemed weary of me whenever I tried to talk to her. She wasn't scared of me and I knew that, but she was distant and quiet when she spoke. Aria didn't seem to trust me and she certainly wasn't comfortable when I was around. I guess I could see why: her and I weren't the type of people you'd see walking around school together. We were like a heterogeneous mixture, the differences between us were crystal clear.
I opened my mouth and was about to say something when a football landed in my arms, nearly winding me.
Not knowing who threw it or where it came from, I looked back at the little kids on the field to see them frozen in their spots, staring at me while I fumbled with the ball in my hands.
They looked intimidated and shied away from me, kicking the grass with their cleats.
"Who threw this?" I yelled, holding the ball high above my head.
Aria and I kept silent as we watched every single kid in the field point to a little boy with the number 21 plastered on his jersey. His helmet was too big for his head and he had skinny arms and legs, but I knew from the way he stood that he was a serious player. I saw the competitiveness in his eyes and the strength he wore proudly on his sleeve.
Calling me a child would be an understatement. I ignored Aria's pleas to give the kids back their ball and ran into the game myself, which encouraged all the other kids to do the same.
The entire field was a laughing fit and for once it felt nice to be accepted on a team, even if that team consisted of 9 to 11-year-olds who had no clue how to pull a fly, veer left or veer right.
I felt bad for Aria knowing she was getting paid to coach, but when I looked back at her she was smiling and laughing. The bright orange whistle dangled loosely around her neck. It was the first time I didn't see it clenched between her teeth.
"Dog pile!!!" a high-pitched voice screamed. Then, I was barrelled to the ground.
__
Don't forget to 🗳 , 🗣 , and 👉