Miss Shetty and Mr Gupta

~Chapter 4~

~The match part 2~

Double update✨

part 2 

Isha's POV:

The car screeched to a halt, and I practically leapt out, Rishi hot on my heels. The air buzzed with nervous energy, the excited chatter of players and coaches mixing with the rhythmic thump of a ball against the ground. The smell of freshly cut grass hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent that always transported me back to countless childhood games.

I asked a coach about Yuvraj's whereabouts. Following the coach's directions, I burst into a room designated for the players. Yuvraj sat hunched over his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos outside.

"Yuvraj?" I called out, my voice tinged with concern.

He jolted up at the sound of his name, his face a mask of surprise that quickly melted into relief when he saw me. A wide grin split his face as he launched himself into a hug, burying his head in my shoulder.

"I thought you wouldn't come," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.

"Of course, I'd come!" I exclaimed, squeezing him back tightly. "How could I miss my little brother's first match? I'm here to cheer you on, take photos, and be your biggest fan!"

He pulled away, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you, kothi!" (thank you monkey!) he cried enthusiastically.

A chuckle erupted from behind us. Turning, we saw Rishi leaning against the doorway, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hey there, champ! Looks like a group hug wouldn't hurt, right?"

We both laughed, and Yuvraj readily extended his arms. The three of us huddled together in a warm embrace.

Just then, the coach called all the players for their warm-up. Yuvraj gave us a quick wave and dashed out, his initial nervousness replaced by a determined glint in his eyes.

Rishi and I made our way to the stands, settling into seats on the second row. I scanned the field, a sea of colourful jerseys buzzing with activity. Confession time: football wasn't exactly my forte. Hesitantly, I turned to Rishi.

"So, uh, do you know anything about the game?" I asked sheepishly.

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk twisting his lips. "Of course I do. Isn't that obvious?"

I rolled my eyes, a playful jab returning to our usual banter. "Well, then instead of sitting there like a statue," I teased, "you could explain it to me, right?"

He chuckled and launched into a detailed explanation of the game's rules and strategies, his voice filled with enthusiasm. As I listened, the complex movements unfolding on the field started to make sense. More importantly, I realized that even though I didn't fully understand the game , I understood something far more important – the unbreakable bond between siblings.

After the game, we raced home starving. By the time we got there, it was pizza time! Lunchtime pizza is the best. We ate it and then got competitive with a game of UNO Flip.

Yuvraj kept getting stuck with those awful "Draw Two" and "Pick a colour" cards. The more he lost, the grumpier he got. Finally, after a particularly brutal round, he threw his cards down in a fake tantrum.

"This game is cheating!" he yelled. "You two are teaming up on me!"

We laughed, knowing he was just messing around.

"Maybe you just need some practice, buddy," Rishi teased.

Yuvraj stomped his feet like a little kid and marched off to his room, pretending to be super mad. With a giggle, Rishi and I started another round of UNO Flip. Poor Yuvraj, always the loser! 

With a sigh, I started gathering the discarded UNO cards and pizza boxes. Yuvraj's stomping exit left a heavy silence in its wake. Rishi sprawled comfortably on the sofa, seemed unfazed by the mini-drama. As I finished cleaning, I plopped down next to him, leaving a respectful width of space between us.

We launched into a conversation that meandered from the latest celebrity gossip to the questionable fashion choices of Mrs Gopalan from down the street. Just as I was about to crack a joke about Mrs. Gopalan's particularly flamboyant hat, a notification popped up on my phone, shattering the lighthearted mood.

A loud groan escaped my lips, so dramatic it could have won an Oscar. Rishi, startled by my sudden outburst, whipped his head towards me. A glance at my phone screen and his playful smile faltered.

"Google Calendar throwing shade again?" he asked, peering over my shoulder.

"Ugh, you don't even understand," I whined. "It's a notification for 'practice math.' Like my brain needs reminding that it's already being tortured by endless equations!"

Rishi chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Sounds like someone needs a saviour." He scanned the notification. "Quadratic equations, huh? Consider yourself saved, Ish. I happen to be a whiz at those."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "Rishi, the master of video games and witty comebacks... offering to tutor me in math? Who are you and what have you done with Rishi?" I squinted at him, trying to decipher if some kind of helpful doppelganger had replaced him.

His playful grin returned. "What can I say? I'm full of hidden talents."

We both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving. A comfortable silence settled between us.

"So," Rishi finally spoke, "is tomorrow at 5 okay for your math intervention?"

"Absolutely," I replied, relief washing over me. Maybe this math nightmare wouldn't be so bad after all, with Rishi as my unlikely tutor.

The conversation flowed back to its previous course, this time sprinkled with hilarious stories about our classmates and their quirks. Just as we were dissecting Mr. Sharma's questionable taste in ties, the front door swung open, and my parents entered.

We both scrambled to our feet, greeting them with a chorus of "Hi!" Rishi turned to my dad, a respectful smile on his face. "Hi, Uncle! How was the marriage?"

"It was very nice, beta," my dad replied, clapping Rishi on the shoulder. "Now, now, your parents are waiting for you at home. Off you go!"

With a wave goodbye to all three of us, Rishi left. The moment the door closed, I turned to my parents, a serious look in my eyes.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" I asked my parents, my voice gentle. They exchanged a surprised look but settled back down on the sofa. I took a deep breath, then launched into an explanation of Yuvraj's experience at the game.

As I spoke, I watched their faces carefully. My mom's brow furrowed in concern, and a flicker of guilt crossed my dad's eyes. By the time I finished, a heavy silence hung in the air.

"I'm sorry I didn't want to hurt you guys," I said softly, "but I really think Yuvraj needs more time with you."

My dad let out a slow exhale. "Wow..." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I never knew he felt that way."

My mom nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Yeah..."

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. 

"But I'm also really proud of you, kiddo," my dad continued, his voice warm. "You're such a responsible and caring sister. Looking out for Yuvraj like that..."

I basked in their praise, a wave of relief washing over me. Talking to them had been nerve-wracking, but it felt good to finally get everything out in the open.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Anyway, I should probably get started on some homework. Big test tomorrow, remember?"

The rest of the evening passed in a routine blur. As I climbed into bed, a strange mix of emotions swirled within me – hope, nervousness, and a sliver of excitement for what tomorrow might bring.