"Ron." My immediate younger brother, Anthony, nudged me slightly, awakening me from my slumber. "The match starts soon." He was dressed in the jersey of our favourite football team, Manchester United.
"What time is it?"
"It's...." He hesitated, taking a moment to glance at the clock that hung above my head. "It's almost 1:30. You should get up soon; you've slept so much that mum made me check to make sure you weren't dead."
"Well." I cleared my throat and flung the covers off my leg. "I am very much alive, thank you. Now leave me in peace so I can sleep some more."
He left the room, however, the peace I requested for didn't last long as shortly after, he burst into my room yelling 'goal' at the top of his voice.
"Alright, alright." I sat up, using my hand to scatter my already dishevelled hair. "What's the scoreline?"
"It's 1-0." He beamed enthusiastically, revealing his front teeth-- one of which was cut in half as a result of a playground accident. He also had a small scar, just above his lip, that served as a reminder of our more rambunctious days.
"That's nice." I yawned, sleepily, as he attempted to haul me off the bed. The contrast between our skin tone made me giggle inwardly, his yellowish complexion looked out of place when compared to the dark-chocolate complexion of my skin. I towered above him by a some six inches, his frail and skinny body type contrasted my stocky, muscular one. "Where is my phone?"
Tony scoured the messy terrain of jumbled sheets in search of my phone. "Here it is." He handed it over to me before walking out of the room to continue watching the football match.
"Tony." After searching frantically for my notebook, I called out to him, distracting his attention from the ongoing football match. "Is my notebook on the couch?"
"Yes, yes it is." He scurried into the room, holding my notebook in his hand before scurrying out, almost immediately, leaving me to survey my notebook in search of Stella's number.The phone, a birthday present from my father, glowed in my hand. It was a Samsung, not as fancy as the newer models, but not archaic; it was modest, just as my father loved his things.
My heart pounded in my chest while my fingers punched in the digits of Stella's number.
Is this a good idea? My mind battled against my body but before I had the time to change my course of action, a loud voice, full of infectious enthusiasm, pierced the air.
"Hello !!!"
"Hi. Uhm." The nervousness that assailed my mind manifested itself in the hesitancy of my words. "Is this Stella?"
"Yes. Yes it is." Her voice, although I was hearing it from my phone speaker, was warm and friendly. Every syllable that came out of her mouth seemed to be infused with an innate buzz and vivacity, the perfect contrast to my bland words. "Who is this please?"
"I'm Ron. The guy..."
"Oh." She interrupted me sharply. "Of course. You know, I was hoping you'd call and I wasn't sure if you'd find my little surprise."
"Haha." I laughed. "Do you always leave your number at the back of strangers' notebooks?"
"Only when I don't want them to be strangers, yes."
"You've got guts, I like that."
"And I like intelligent boys." There was a hint of flirtation in her voice that left me momentarily flustered. "A girl has to go out and get what she wants, besides, you only live once, right?"
"I guess so." I nodded in agreement at her words while pacing around the room, bumping into a few objects along the way. "So how are you?"
The door flung open and both my brothers rushed in. Although they had similar facial characteristics, their faces bore opposite expressions. Tony, the elder of the two, had a joyous countenance. He swung his arms in the air in celebratory fashion, his demeanor was overbearing and Trevor looked on disdainfully, clearly displeased at the exuberance of Tony's celebrations. Trevor's eyes burned with stinging tears and he wiped them in the yellow jersey that he had on before slumping to the floor in a corner of the room, head bowed.
It's hard supporting a team that barely wins.
"Stella." I sighed heavily into the receiver, "I'll have to call you another time. I have to go now, to comfort my brother. He's upset because his team lost."
"Awwn." She cooed and I could imagine her making one of those baby faces with pouted lips and googly eyes. "That's so sweet."
"Thanks." I pressed the cut button and turned to Trevor immediately. He looked up at me, locking his red eyes on mine. "What's wrong kiddo?"
"Tony..." He struggled to get any words out. Instead, he rose to his feet and moved towards me, shaping to engulf me in a needy embrace. "He keeps laughing at me."
"I didn't do anything," Tony said, raising his hands in protestation of his innocence. "It's not my fault his team is rubbish. If you're going to support a rubbish team, you should accept the banter that comes with the territory."
"For goodness sake." I turned to Tony, gazing menacingly at him. "This is a boy that isn't even ten yet. If you need reminding, you cried too whenever your team lost at his age."
"Sorry." Tony extended a consoling hand to Trevor, grinning sheepishly. "I'll go easy on you next time."
"I can't believe I had to get off my conversation with Stella for this." I crashed onto the bed, flinging my legs carelessly in the air while tapping the unresponsive screen of my phone.
"Ron, who's Stella?"
"None of your business, Tony. None of your business."
ns 15.158.61.8da2
