𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 ||The Sequel||

CHAPTER 24

Tristan

I lucked out with just a warning and three days of detention. Coach stepped in; otherwise, the principal would've suspended me without a second thought.

Coach, being his usual persuasive self, somehow managed to talk the principal out of it. He should've made a presentation or something, outlining how essential I am to the football team and how my suspension would mess up our prep for the upcoming football season.

Surprisingly, it worked. The principal let me off the hook, but Coach didn't follow suit.

I had to spend the rest of the afternoon in his office, enduring a lecture about my behavior. I couldn't blame him; my actions were a blow to my reputation and could cause tension between the basketball and football teams, especially since Matt's involved.

It's my fault, and I know it, but I'm not sorry.

Matt's girlfriend and her friend need to apologize to Ariana when she comes back next week. I'll personally ensure it happens.

Speaking of Ariana, while Mom grilled me about the school fight during dinner, my mind wandered. I stared at the Polaroid photo stuck on the back of my phone cover. James, Abby, Josh, and Mom were all seated around me, listening to Mom's lecture, which was a mix of English and Tagalog.

Josh struggled not to laugh, and honestly, I almost wanted to laugh too.

Watching Mom scold me in Tagalog during dinner, especially when others don't understand the language, can be amusing. Mom can sound funny when she's mad and swearing in Tagalog.

But deep down, I knew I deserved the scolding. I've been asking for it. I wish Mom could yell at me for being an idiot, for not doing anything when I saw Ariana this morning, and just let her leave. I wish she could yell at me for getting mad at Ari that day when she came over.

But she can't.

She's in the dark, thinking everything's fine between us, unaware that Ariana and I are on a break while she's away at cheerleading camp.

God, I feel so fucking stupid.

"Tristan," Abby whispered to my side, and I quickly glanced at her.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" I nodded with a frown before turning toward Mom.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just got a three-day suspension, and that's it. It's not a big deal."

Mom's sharp gaze immediately shifted to me, and she dropped her fork on the plate, making a loud clanging noise.

"Not a big deal? How is this not a big deal to you? This is your last year in high school! You shouldn't be getting into fights at school. What will that do to your student record? Do you think Ivy League schools accept troublemakers?"

I let out an exasperated sigh, pushing my plate away and leaning back in my chair, my appetite suddenly gone.

"It only happened once, and it won't happen again."

She shook her head and spoke sternly in our native language. "Tumigil sa pagsasalita pabalik."

(Translation: "Stop talking back.")

"Hindi ako."

(Translation: "I'm not.")

She scoffed, throwing her hands up in frustration and turning toward James, who was seated at the head of the table.

"Can you believe this?"

James took a sip of his wine, giving me a small smile before addressing Mom.

"Jas, please calm down. Let's finish our dinner first, and we can talk about this later."

I stood up, grabbing my phone from the table, ready to leave.

"Where are you going?" Mom immediately asked, and everyone else turned to look at me.

"I'm not hungry anymore. I'm just going to my room."

"We're not done talking. Maupo ka." She snapped angrily, pointing to my chair.

(Translation: "Sit down.")

"Well, I'm done eating, so." Without another word, I walked out of the room, hearing a chair scrape behind me.

"Tristan!" She yelled after me, but I ignored her and went straight upstairs to lock myself in my room.

I just need some space. It's been one of those really rough days, and right now, I don't need Mom breathing down my neck.

It's just that I've never snapped at Mom like that before, and I've always followed what she says.

But my head's all over the place, and I'm scared that if I stay there, I might just lose it.

That's not a good sign.

I don't want to be mad at Mom or anyone else at home. This mess is mine, and I want to sort it out on my own, without dragging anyone else into it.

I'm hoping that when I calm down and explain what's been going on, Mom will forgive me. She usually does. So, she'll get it eventually.

Ariana

Right after the coaches did their official team introductions at the opening bonfire night, the party kicked off.

There was music, plenty of food and snacks, and soft drinks, much to Joanna's disappointment since the girl wanted to drink something a bit stronger.

Justin and I hit it off quickly. It was amazing how much we learned about each other in just one night.

He was really easy to talk to, and his friends were surprisingly down-to-earth, not the typical showoff college guys with huge egos.

It turns out Justin was originally from LA and had just moved to Miami to attend Deacon University, his dream college. His main goal in coming here was to join the football team, as the Deacon Eagles were renowned for their ruthless games in Florida.

We discovered so much in common; being only children in our families, both loving Ariana Grande, sharing a dislike for broccoli, and, surprisingly, both having recent relationship issues - he had just broken up with his ex-girlfriend, Julia, who also attended Deacon University.

Our conversation flowed easily, and we ended up sharing personal information about our love lives because we felt comfortable around each other. I told him about Tristan, which felt odd since we hadn't officially broken up yet. We were just taking a break, but it already felt strange to refer to him as my "ex-boyfriend."

The official camp activities were set to start the next day, so the bonfire party wrapped up at 10 PM, and we all went our separate ways to our respective dorms.

Upon arriving in our room, Shay and Joanna immediately crashed into their beds, already fast asleep. I removed their shoes and covered them with blankets before preparing for bed myself. I sat for a moment, gazing at my phone screen.

No messages. No calls. Nothing from him.

I didn't expect him to reach out during our current situation, but in our past arguments, he'd always sent a text to indicate he had cooled off and was ready to apologize. I would do the same. However, I now realize this time was different. Our fight seemed to be dragging on, and it felt like it might never end.

After setting my alarm for the morning, I switched off my phone and snuggled under the covers, staring up at the ceiling until I drifted into a dreamless sleep.