~3
1334 Words
Bryce's POV:
“How was your first day, son?” Mom greets me as I walk in.
“Alright, met a few people,” I reply with a shrug.
“Are you hungry?”
“Do you need help with dinner? Dad will be late, as always,” I roll my eyes.
“Your father is trying, Bryce. Maybe you should try forgiving him,” she pleads.
“Not going to happen—not after what he did to you, to us. I’ll eat elsewhere,” I grab my car keys and leave.
I can't forgive my father for what he did. I thought moving here would make him realize he has a family, not just his job. But since we arrived, he’s only been focused on work. Mom says everyone grieves differently, but perhaps his guilt is consuming him.
I can’t believe my mother would forgive him so easily; what he did hurt her deeply.
Since I was young, I have craved my father's attention. I even became the best high school footballer in France, but that still wasn’t enough. He has attended fewer than twenty of my games since I started high school. After middle school, he was always too busy to come to important games or family dinners. Then last year, when he hurt Mom, everything spiraled. A few months later, out of the blue, she forgave him, and he returned to his late-night work schedule.
In September, right as I started my junior year, I learned we were moving to Australia for a big project. I suspected there was more to the story.
I drove around for ten minutes before parking at a diner bustling with teenagers. I spotted Donovan and Felix in a booth with sodas in front of them.
“King, come over here, man,” Donovan waved me over, drawing the attention of a few girls.
“He’s so hot.”
“Is he the new guy everyone’s been talking about?”
“I can’t wait to see his mad skills on the field.”
I slid into the booth next to Felix.
“How do you like the city so far?” Donovan asked.
“It’s alright, but does it always feel this hot? It’s like summer vacation back in France,” I laughed.
“Get used to it, dude. You’re lucky you weren’t here during last month’s heat wave,” Felix replied.
“Oh yeah, I heard about those,” I nodded.
“Hey, blondie, bring a drink for my buddy Bryce—he’s single too,” Donovan winked at the blonde waitress, who blushed as she adjusted her glasses.
“I’m not looking for a girlfriend,” I told him.
“Really? It’s the girls with glasses you should watch out for; they surprise me,” he chuckled.
“Whatever, I’m not staying. I just came for dinner to go home.”
“Boring. You don’t know anyone else around here, so just chill with us for a while. Also, party at my place Friday,” he added.
The waitress brought me a soda, and I tipped her five bucks.
“What can you tell me about Avalon West?” I asked.
“She’s the total opposite of Avery,” Felix laughed.
“That’s true. They look similar, but their personalities are completely different,” Donovan agreed. “My lovely girlfriend likes to dress up, while Avalon prefers baggy clothes. She’s got the looks, but she hides them.”
“Who’s her father?”
“Matthew West.”
“The Matthew West, the best lawyer in Sydney?” I asked.
“Yep, and he used to play soccer,” Felix clarified.
“I see, so no sons?”
They shook their heads.
“I think he’s happy at least one of his daughters loves soccer. She’s incredible; she did a bicycle kick at seven,” Donovan explained.
Damn, I couldn’t do that until I was ten.
“I mastered it in middle school,” Donovan added.
“Who’s ready to order? I’m hungry,” I said, picking up the menu.
“Good idea. We’ve been here twenty minutes just chatting,” Felix agreed.
“Do you think we’ll get a discount this time? Blondie seems to like you, Felix,” Donovan teased.
“Whatever, she’s not my type.”
“So Mackenzie is your type?” he asked.
“Been there, done that. But Nabila? I haven’t dated her,” Felix smirked.
“Well, ask her out and come to my party on Friday.”
“Dude, I live next to you. Of course, I’m coming—I'm over at your house anyway.”
I missed my best friend; I hoped he would lead my old team to victory this season. I knew they were in good hands.
“What would you like to order?” the blonde waitress approached our booth. Her name tag read Chelsea.
“Burger combo—with you as the side piece,” Felix flirted.
She blushed. “S-sorry, but we don’t serve that here,” she stammered.
He laughed, “Are you sure? How about a discount instead?”
She glared at him and slapped him.
“Oh,” I laughed.
“Just because I helped you with your homework last semester doesn’t give you the right to ask for favors,” she snapped and walked away.
“Dang,” I chuckled.
“I don't remember asking any blonde—oh shoot, that was Chelsea, wasn’t it?” Donovan said.
Donovan shakes his head. "My best friend is an idiot."
"What happened?" I ask, frowning.
"Let’s just say that when blond Chelsea helped Alson with his homework, he started crushing on her, but the i***t ruined everything, and now she practically hates him," he explains.
Felix sighs. "I blew my one shot with her."
"Sorry, man."
"It’s fine. Let me through; I need to use the bathroom."
I get up to let him pass.
"He's not fine. Sometimes I see him staring at her in class or the hallway," Donovan whispers.
Two hours later, I get home. The guys and I had dinner and then played games. I can tell I’ll enjoy this new school and meeting new friends. Donovan and Felix remind me of my best friend back in France.
"Good night, Bryce," my dad greets me when I walk in.
Oh, he's home early. What a surprise.
"Good night, I’m heading to my room," I say, uninterested in small talk.
"It’s only 8 PM. Let’s watch a soccer game together," he suggests.
"You could use your time to work instead," I reply.
"Bryce," my mom sighs.
"I know I haven't always been there for you, but I’m trying. We moved here to make my work less hectic. Things have settled down, so I can be more flexible now," he explains.
"Tell that to someone who cares,” I snap, heading upstairs.
Why does he want to spend time with me? My 13-year-old self would have been thrilled, but now I couldn't care less.
I wish my brother were here; he would know how to calm me down. But he’s not, and everyone seems to have moved on except me. At least my sister is enjoying her life in Italy with her new husband. She married young, but he’s the love of her life, and she’s happy.
Why do I have to be the middle child? My brother, although a year younger, talks more and acts more mature. Maybe that's why my father favors him.
After high school, I plan to return to France for university since all my family is there. Maybe I can convince Mom to divorce Dad; she deserves better and misses her life back home.
That's my plan after finishing these last two years here: take the first ticket back to France and persuade Mom to join me. I have time to convince her to divorce Dad, but for now, I’ll pretend we’re a normal, loving family just for her, just for Blake.
- Writer
