Chapter 6 CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

ROMEO – POINT OF VIEW

Silence lingers for a moment after they leave.

Mom finally takes a seat, but she’s limping. She has stood for too long, and the stress has affected her. According to the doctors and countless personal research I’ve made, she shouldn’t go through stress because women often internalise stress, which shows forth as autoimmune diseases in their bodies. Her illness has taken a toll on her, and another won’t be tolerated.

“You shouldn’t have talked about her like that. She’s a person, Romeo. A person. A young girl trapped in a life she has no choice in, and rather than be a victim of her situation, she's making the best of it. She can easily find illegal jobs, but she chose something humble and worth doing. What has happened to you?” Mom whispers, shaking her head in disappointment.

I stare at my hands, at the scars on them, a constellation of injuries I’ve acquired over years of playing football.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mom sighs, and I look at her.

Ever since her stroke last year, she has lost a significant amount of weight. Now, her dresses don’t fit, and she had to go shopping for new ones a couple of months ago. She asked me to come with her that afternoon, but I refused, focused on playing games. I didn’t know she wanted to get a new closet, but that changes nothing. All I am is a disappointment to her. 

“I’m listening, Mom.” I rasp, my voice hoarse and thick with all the guilt I feel. I want to be a better son to her, but I just keep failing.

“You let that girl get bullied in school?” She asks softly. 

She never yells. Even before her stroke, she never yelled. I don’t understand her calmness, and no matter how much I try to imitate her, I always fail.

My nose flares, anger creeping in, “I don’t want to talk about Milly.”

She leans forward, “You call her Milly as though you’re familiar. If you hate her so much, why do you call her Milly?”

My brows furrow, and I couldn’t comprehend the point she’s trying to make, “That’s what everyone calls her, Mom.”

“Do you let her get bullied in school? I want a clear answer. No deflection.” She might not be yelling, but her tone is as sharp as a blade, made of steel.

I mull over her words and try to find the best possible way to answer. How do I best describe insignificance?

“Our school is big, Mom. The football field alone is almost eight thousand square meters. We share some classes, yes, but I am busy with classes, labs and more importantly, football. You know this. I don’t have time to watch over Milly when she is inconsequential. I have a life, and it is exhausting, but I signed up for it, and I have an obligation.” I express, trying my best to be calm, but my chest flares in irritation.

Why are we talking about Milly?

“Inconsequential? That’s a big word to describe her. So, you don’t watch as your girlfriend and friends bully her? Your girlfriend didn’t try to drown her? None of what she said happened?” She asks, spitting out the word girlfriend as if it's a slur. 

She doesn’t like Poppy at all.

“I mind my business. I’m not going to interfere in whatever Poppy does or pretend to care about a random girl in school? Our school might be exclusive,e but we’re a lot. I don’t even talk to everyone in my class. The only reason she knows me is that I’m the quarterback!” My anger gets the best of me, as heat rushes upwards.

Mom raises her eyebrow, but stays silent.

My lungs constrict, and I grit out, “Sorry. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to shout.”

“She knows you because you’re the star boy, and you don’t know her because she’s the most intelligent in your school? Because she is.” Mom smiles coyly, as if she’s proud of Milly.

I scoff, “I’m your son, and I’m intelligent, too.”

“Of course, you are. You have your father’s strength and my intelligence, but I also know your weaknesses. Milly is good all around, and she might be a wonderful influence, helping you in places you’re shaky.” She suggests, smiling.

My nostrils flare in distaste, “I don’t want to talk about Milly anymore. I’m wrecked, and I need to rest.”

She runs her gaze over me and nods, “I can see that. Why don’t you freshen up and come down for lunch? Bella, the Chef, made your favourite.”

I nod, exhaustion sinking into my bones. 

“I want Milly, Romeo. You know I am an excellent judge of character, and something tells me Milly will be perfect for the children. Whatever is going on in school, wrap it up. Your silence makes you complicit. Silence is very dangerous; it’s borderline violence, and we mustn’t let injustice stand. You know better than that. Now, go freshen up. I love you.” She blows me a kiss sweetly.

I nod and walk up the stairs.

Every step feels like an anchor chaining me to the ground.

I want to yell. I want to swim, or maybe just sleep for the rest of the day.

I push open my bedroom door and groan softly as I step into the comfort. I drop my back, kick off my shoes and get on the bed. I don’t bother undressing. 

Today, just like every day, drained me, but this is what I signed up for.

My thoughts stray to Milly, and I scoff, irritated. 

Who does she think she is?

She’s an irrelevance, and very bold, it seems. She’s a coward in school, always running from Poppy, yet she dares to tell me I deserve nothing good? What does she know about goodness? Has she ever tested an iota of happiness in her life? 

I do not play ball and fail my tests.

I have failed some tests, of course, but who is she to tell me that when she has absolutely no social life? Always burying her face in her book and wearing those stupid glasses.

Repulsion runs through me, and I ignore her.

Mom needs someone, though, but it just can’t be here. I cannot accept that. She cannot stay under the same roof as me.

My phone beeps, and it’s a text from Poppy.

Hey baby. You won’t believe what Danielle did. Are you home?

She’s going to call, so I turn off my phone and force myself to sleep.

Nothing matters.