Right Before The End | BOOK #4 IN THE PSU SERIES

Fifteen

'Study what? How to find a fucking brain? Have you gone off your rockers?'

I could still hear him yelling through the phone receiver. And to answer his question, maybe I did go off of my rocker but he didn't read that email she sent me– I did.

I just needed to go check on her.

Of course, the entire world who ate, slept, and dreamt of soccer decided to call me a lunatic because I was one of the best, brightest, and the youngest– and probably most well-paid players in the league. They thought I had it all.

They thought even more that I was a looney whenever the news broke that I fled back to America to return to my education. Who in their right minds would leave a thirty million dollar contract with one of the best soccer teams in the world to study at Penn State?

I would.

Staring out the window, my eyes were searching for her. The girl who would wear these bulky glasses, the girl who had braces, and an overwhelming amount of acne before I left. The girl who would much rather build a volcano for a science fair than go to any social event. Technically speaking, the science fair is a social event, for me, it would be social suicide, but for her it made her feel special.

And anyone who dared ruin her special parade was on my hit list.

I wonder if she would be climbing up the steps, struggling to carry a million candles at once. Or maybe she would struggle carrying all of her journals. Maybe she branched out and finally learned how to paint– she had always dreamed of it.

Had she finally gotten rid of her random collection of binoculars and magnifying glasses? Did she still plant a ton of milkweed for caterpillars to sprout into Butterflies?

There was so much about her that I felt like I had missed and I hated myself for missing it. A slamming of the box had me taking my eyes off  of the window completely. "Careful– with that box." I hissed at the move-in worker.

His eyes fought to be everywhere but mine as I walked over to where he sat. I knew what was in those boxes and they were important. Important to me and someone else, but I would die if one of them had gotten misplaced or broken.

Walking over to the box, the mover ran away as I ran my  fingers down the spine of every single item in the box making sure that the dense objects were okay, and that they still spoke to me.

The unanswered words were left alone as someone cleared their throat behind me. It was a familiar voice that spoke and one that I knew I was about to get into a heavy amount of lecturing.

"So you couldn't call me back but you could take my plane?" Dad's voice was humorous behind me. I turned to face him as he wiped his fingers all the way down my kitchen island. The flat black and white marble surface were so clean you could see his reflection as he walked closer to me. "I would like to see my spawn once in a while, you know?" Yeah, I know dad. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I couldn't help it.

And hopefully, I could now.

"That private school did you well– huh? Private school and a professional soccer player..." I didn't answer him as he sighed at my silence. I had always been quiet. I didn't speak as much as everyone would have expected me to.

Don't get me wrong– I loved to be loud at parties, and I loved going out. But sometimes I would go through phases where I would just be silent. I would go through these phases because my entire life I always had someone asking me questions but someone else would always answer them for me.

So what was the point of talking?

"Mannon told Mom that you got up and left.  Why didn't you tell her that you were leaving?" That time I smirked, finally meeting his eyes. His eyes and mine were identical, and it was like looking in a mirror sometimes.