Emily Scott POV
"No! Don't make me go to soccer practice! Anything but soccer practice! I'll literally wash the dishes for a whole week rather than going to soccer practice," I begged. I was ready to bust the waterworks if this didn't work.
My mom stopped pulling at my braids for a brief moment. "Goodness, gracious young lady. You don't want to go to soccer practice that badly, huh?" She knew exactly how much I hated to wash the dishes in the first place.
I shook my head fervently (I had to ask Emmie how to spell this word). "Pretty please with a cherry on top."
My mother kneeled next to me and held my shoulders firmly. "Is someone bullying you? Is there a manager I need to talk to? I'll talk to the coach and resolve this issue. You shouldn't be pleading with your whole life to not go to a simple soccer practice. I swear I will get to the bottom of this, sweetie. So just tell me right now what is going on right now and everything will be fine." She smiled and patted my head.
Wait, that's not how this was supposed to go. "I don't like sports, simple as that. Are you really surprised, Mom? Us Gen Z kids hate going outside. All we wanna do is play on our phones."
My mom raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Your acts of deception won't fool me, sweetie. I'm actually the CEO of the company." She patted my cheek.
I was speechless for a second. Which was unlike me, I know. Did she just reference a- you know what, nevermind. "But Mom~"
She stood up and calmly placed my soccer bag in front of me. "We are going to practice. I paid a lot of money for your soccer gear. If you refuse this, no more dolls for you. I will take away all your electronic devices and force you to watch as I embarrass you next time I visit your school." Oh the horror. "Now fetch your cleats and socks in less than five minutes or else." I shivered at her passive-aggressive smile and slowly backed out of the kitchen.
"Yes, ma'am."
Once I had grabbed everything and changed into them, I ran downstairs to walk into the kitchen to see my mom next to a ready snack bag and water bottle on the island counter. "Nice hustle, Emily. Now if only you tried that hard in soccer. I'm watching you, honey."
I sighed dramatically. "Geez, Mom. I'm going, what else more do you want from me?"
"Effort, sweetie. Now please take your stuff and hop into your car seat."
"Okay," I said defeatedly.
During the car ride, she put on Kidz-Bop while turning up the volume and I thought I was gonna throw up. I gagged. "What's wrong?" She asked. Now I wish I had brought my pink iridescent headphones.
"Oh my gosh, Mom, really? This awful music. Please shut it off. I think my ears might bleed."
Instead of responding to my request, she had the audacity to sing along with it off-key, as if the kids weren't bad enough singers. "I feel something so right, by doing the right thing~"
I flipped out. "Oh come on! That's a dumb censor. Why would they change 'wrong thing' to 'right thing.' That makes literally no sense. Kidz-Bop really knows how to ruin songs at max capacity."
She finally turned off the radio and I sighed in relief. "Next time you refuse to go to soccer, this will happen."
"You're like a soccer mom, but without the van."
Mom laughed as she reached into the glovebox compartment for her one of many dozen sunglasses. She turned to me and asked which pair. Holding up one blue pair and one violet pair, I could barely tell the difference. Why she would waste money on two of the same product, I would never know.
"They look the same. I don't know, do eenie-meenie-minie-mo."
"One day, you'll understand when you're older, honey." Oh boy. If I had a box of apple juice every time my parents said that, I would have to go to the bathroom in two seconds.
"Whatever you say." I unbuckled myself and took my Barbie lunchbox with me. My mom had a law chair she slung across her back. The only thing missing was Emmie's man-purse.
While I put on my padding and guards, my mom rubbed sunscreen on my face. I squinted up at the sky. "The sun is not even out. First of all, you shouldn't be wearing sunglasses. Second of all, it looks like it's even about to rain."
She shook her head. "You should always wear SPF protection, even if it's freezing in the dead middle of winter. Besides, my eyes are sensitive to the outdoors no matter how cloudy. I've been inside too much on my computer working late hours. I'm not used to being out, I admit."
"Yeah, way to sound like one of us kids, Mom."
"Thanks, I try," she laughed. I cringed. That was not meant to be a compliment. "Here, sit in front of me. I'll fix that braid of yours. I need to make it tighter."
"Do I have to?"
"Well, if you don't want your hair slapping yourself in the face in the middle of a game. Now hurry up and sit. You don't want a half finished braid when the rest of your team arrives."
I gave up and sat criss-cross-applesauce in front of my mom and she yanked my head back hard. "Ow! Please be a bit gentler, Mom."
"Sorry, sweetie. You'll have to bear with it for a little while longer." The braid was so tight that I just knew when I removed it later, my scalp would hurt.
As more of my teammates started to arrive, I was snacking on a few goldfish. My mom wouldn't let me sip some Gatorade yet. One of the boys approached me. "Sup, Emily." He held out his hand for the weird 'bro' handshake. I had no idea how to hold it, so I awkwardly grasped it.
He just chuckled and nodded, then crossed his arms. "Uh, hi Kyle." I stood up and patted the grass off my pink shorts. Kyle was shorter than me and had greasy hair, unless that was hair gel, but who knows. My mom just sitting there and sipping on her green tea latte made it a million times more awkward. The worst part was that I couldn't see her facial expression behind those huge sunglasses
"It's been awhile since you've been here, Emily?"
"About a whole week, give or take," I shrugged.
"Well, nice to have you back. Scrimmages haven't been as fun without you fighting with Anne every two seconds," he cackled then walked off.
I looked at my mom who stopped drinking her Starbucks. "Oh. So that's what that was about!" She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together.
"Haha, what?"
"I totally forgot about Anne! Isn't she the red headed girl with the pigtails that looks like Wendy?"
"So what if she is?"
"She's a nice kid. I don't want anybody getting the wrong idea that I have a pugnacious, aggressive child."
"Pugnacious?"
"Argumentative. Stop being a difficult child. Why do you have the tendency of fighting with the most well-behaved children?"
"I don't know! She gets on my nerves," I said as I kicked the grass with my cleats. "She seems so fake to me, like she wants something from you."
My mother hummed and shrugged. "That's just how society is. But that doesn't mean you have to act rude either. Prove to her that you are better than her by acting better. I'm not saying act pompous, but be a better character and actually do all your actions with genuine compassion."
"Are you done lecturing?"
Mom clicked her tongue. "Starting now. I don't want to hear any of that attitude."
"Yes, Mom."
The whistle blew, signifying our huddle. My mom pushed my shoulder. "Now go out there and show them what my daughter is made of!"
~~~
"Oh my gosh, Emily! What did I just say?!" My mom said in disappointment. She had her arms sternly crossed and she had her sunglasses resting on top of her head. I was benched because apparently I tripped Anne. It wasn't on purpose. My foot slipped. Besides, I had more mud on my clothes than she did. "You're not getting any frozen yogurt today. Or maybe for the next month. Did you see little Anne's leg? You scratched her with your cleats!"
"Yes, I'm well aware, Mom." To be fair, I got cleated too.
"Nope. No talking back, young lady." She pinched my ear and I had to withhold a squeak. "I didn't hear one apology."
"But I did-"
"Nuh-uh. The next word that will come out ya mouth better be some form of 'I'm sorry' or else you're gonna see a Karen in action." Her southern drawl became prominent and that's what scared me most. I nodded slightly and waited until Anne was grabbing a sip of water.
As she was drinking her water, she slid down her long socks so I could see the extent of the damage. Unfortunately, my cleats hit the area of her leg right next to the shin guard and she had three large, bleeding scratches. Ouch. I timidly approached her and played with my fingers before I mustered up the courage to speak up. She noticed me before I could actually say anything. Her curly red hair was frizzy and had mud splattered into it.
"Oh, hello, Emily." She gave me a small wave. Anne wasn't mad at me? I was confused, as I for sure thought she would blame me for injuring her.
I fell to my knees. "I'm so sorry, Anne! I swear I didn't mean it this time. I was careless. Forgive me."
Anne giggled and lightly tapped my shoulder. "No need to make a dramatic scene out of it. It's fine. Getting injured is a part of the sport, that's part of the fun."
"You're... not mad at me?" I started and faltered.
"Not at all. I think we should just start anew. Whaddya say?"
Anne held out her hand to me, her pale and freckles porcelain skin covered with mud and dirt under her nails. I reluctantly took it with uncertainty and grasped it with my own dirty hand. Like we made a pact. "I'd like that." Maybe if I became friends with her, I could see her not act so superficial.
She let go and pointed to her leg. "How about we start with getting me a wet towel."
I stood and straightened up. "Sure thing, I'm, uh, right on it." As I turned to fetch a water towel I could hear her giggle and I felt my face flush as I came back to my mother.
My mom regarded me with an expectant look. "So?"
I reached for a towel and dampened it under the old hand water pump. "We restarted."
"Restarted?" I didn't miss the confusion in my mom's voice.
"I think we're friends now."
My mom seemed satisfied and left it at that. "Good. Keep it that way, sweetie."
"Be right back." And I dashed back to Anne.
She, of course, had not moved from her place on the bench. And smiled at me when she saw me approaching. "You, know, I didn't actually expect you to actually get a wet towel, but thanks." She took it and pressed it against her wounds, cleaning them externally.
"Does it hurt?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Not that much. I've sprained my wrist and ankle before, couldn't be as bad as that."
I made a noise of doubt, snorting. "I've got cleated before, it's not pretty. You're really tough."
Once she was done wiping the blood she quickly fanned it before painfully rolling her socks back over it. "Ah," she said quietly in pain.
"Can't that get infected, like, really easily?" I asked. I was no medical genius like Em, but I knew there was a lot of dirt, sweat, and she didn't even properly disinfect it. "Maybe you should go to the first aid station."
She shook her head. "I don't want to bother the nurse. It's not that serious, I'll be fine."
"Oh, come on, Anne. It's her job. She likes to help kids. Let's go," I said, offering my hand to help her up.
She hesitated to take my hand, looking at it in deep-thought. I didn't get what was so hard about going to get a bandage. Staring at her wordlessly, I was getting slightly annoyed that she wasn't responding to me. Eventually, she sighed and took it. "Fine, it shouldn't hurt that much."
"Oh, thank goodness. I thought my arm was gonna fall off waiting for you there." She got up and hobbled next to me as we walked around the field to the nearest first-aid station. "Do you need help?" I asked, as she sat down on the chair.
The nurse glanced up at me. "We'll be fine now, thank you." Her eyes were telling me to leave so I slowly backed up.
Before I could turn to go back to my mom, Anne reached out to grab my hand. She tugged it, bringing me back. "Wait! I'm pretty sure I cleated you too. Are you hurt?"
I tucked my left leg behind my right unconsciously as I felt the scratches on my leg. I don't think it was bleeding. "No-"
She looked down at my left leg because I was so obvious. And then she turned to the nurse who had already prepared the antiseptic and bandages. "You should probably check up on her too."
"Sit, please," the nurse said, beckoning me to sit next to Anne.
She tended to the both of us and told us that playing shouldn't be a problem. Anne and I were walking back when she gave me a guilty look. "What is it?" I asked.
"I feel bad," she said. Why?
"There's no reason for you, though. I'm the annoying one, I started it. It's my fault." I was not about to say sorry again. Because I wasn't. I just wanted to go home and take a nap and be done with talking to Anne.
"You got hurt," she said as if it was obvious. "I hurt you, I'm sorry."
I stopped walking and gazed into her eyes, scrutinizing her face to search for any bologna. "Look, let's get this straight. We're friends, right?" She nodded. "No need to needlessly apologize for every single thing. You said it yourself, it's part of the sport."
"Oh, okay. I was just worried."
I shrugged. "It's fine, now let's hurry back before I get in even more trouble."
"Yeah," she agreed and we picked up the pace. "I'll tell the coach that it wasn't your fault."
"Oh, uh, thanks."
Anne turned and tilted her redhead. Smiling, she put her hand on my shoulder. When I thought it was just a simple, comforting gesture, I was proven wrong when she pulled me closer to her. "No problem," she whispered into my ear.
Was it just me or did her eyes have a devious look in them? Maybe it was the red, devilish aura of hair. After all, redheads don't have a soul. That's what Birdie said, at least.
I pulled away to put some distance between us. I laughed awkwardly and walked even faster, to the point where I looked really dumb mall-walking alongside the soccer field. I was getting impatient and wanted a breath of fresh air that didn't consist of Anne's Gatorade carbon dioxide.
Instinctively, I went to my mom and stood near her. My mom gave me a thin-lipped smile as Anne waved briefly then jogged to talk to the coach.
"Seems like you guys made up quite nicely."
"I don't want to be her friend, she's so weird."
"Well, takes one to know one," she said, then took another sip of her Starbucks. "I don't know why you're being like this. You've never acted this way towards anyone else. Why just her? I've said it once, and I'll say it again, is someone bullying you?" She paused and gasped, "Or are you bullying her!"
I sighed loudly in exasperation. "No! I would never! She gives me creepy vibes and doesn't give me personal space."
"Huh, you being mad about personal space is new. Sweetie, our household doesn't know personal space."
I frowned. This was getting nowhere. "This is completely different, Anne is a stranger while you're literally my mom."
She shrugged. "Stop complaining to me about it. I can't do anything. Maybe when you get to know her, you'll understand," she said matter-of-a-factly. I groaned and then groaned even louder when I saw a particular head of red hair bouncing in my direction. My mom slapped on the back so hard, it propelled me forwards. "Have fun!"
"Hey, Emily."
"Hi. Anne," I said quickly.
"Good news, you get to play again!"
"Bad news?"
"Well, you have to fill up the refreshments after picking up the cones at the end of our practices for a whole week." Oh, thought it would be something way worse. That I could deal with. At least I didn't have to be stuck with Anne for an eternity or do a bunch of suicides. Now that would have been a cruel punishment. "But don't worry, I'll help," she said with a cheer." It took all my willpower to stop myself from making a sour face, so I smiled with a clenched jaw. Of course with my nonexistent luck, I managed to jinx myself.
"Wonderful."
"Right?" She replied, completely oblivious to my plight. The coach blew the whistle. "Oh! We should get going now," she said while nodding in the direction of our team.
"Yep." She ran ahead while I followed about ten feet back with my arms crossed.
~~~
"Mom, I don't think I can move my limbs," I complained as I buckled my seatbelt. I lay askew on top of my car seat and everything ached, from my bones to muscle, I felt so weak.
"Don't be dramatic, you ran from the field back to our car."
"Uh, yeah, that's exactly why! That times a bajillion and that's how many times I've ran that distance. My legs feel like they're about to fall off. Scratch that, I don't think I can even feel them anymore." Why did I have to jinx myself about running suicides? 'Suicides' is a well-suited name for them though.
My mom sighed from the driver's seat. "If I knew you were going to be this extra, I would have enrolled you into theater instead of soccer."
I weakly crossed my arms. "Uhm, why didn't you? You totally should've."
"Don't be silly, you and I both know there are far more weird people than Anne in the theater club. Drama kids are on a different spectrum."
I gasped. "Take that back! My friend does the community theater in her spare time. She's a tiger."
"See, double-standards. Now you know how it feels when someone insults them. You didn't like it when I said that about your friend, so don't say it about Anne. It's the Golden Rule, sweetie."
This time I decided to stay quiet. I was too tired to speak and I bet if I opened my mouth, I would be in for an even longer spiel. My mother tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as our car idled at a stoplight.
"What do you think of Robyn, Emily?"
"Why do you ask so suddenly?"
My mom shrugged and I couldn't judge her facial expression past her gargantuan sunglasses. "Mhn, I don't know isn't he like a brother to you? He's such a nice boy, I see him like a second son."
I hummed as I thought about Birdie. "Yeah, like a second brother I guess. He loves me just as much as Emmie and Emmie is my brother sooo..."
"That's nice then. Because I see him as a son-in-law," she said while laughing to herself with a wide smile.
I tilted my head in confusion. "What's a son-in-law?
"If you have a sibling and they marry someone, the person becomes either your sister or brother in-law. For me, if Emerson were to marry someone, the person he married would become my son or daughter in-law."
I wrinkled my nose, thinking about it. "So, does that mean they're married?"
My mom laughed as if I said the funniest thing on the whole earth. "Haha! No, sweetie. I just see it like that way in the future, but don't tell them. Promise?"
"Okay, promise! Between you and me, I think they act like my second parents."
"Oh?"
I recited what I told Emmie previously. "They give me piggy-back rides, buy me food, take care of me, and they love each other! So basically, my two dads!"
My mom smiled at me, nodding. "Oh I hope they become dads, I want grandchildren."
"Maybe too soon, Mommy? I'm still a child."
"Nah, I want more, but without the hassle of giving birth."
I nodded slowly. "Hey, Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
"When I am ninety-nine pounds I'll eat one pound of nachos so I'll be one-percent nachos."
I couldn't see my mom's face, but she was quiet. "Emily, dearest, I love you. Please don't ever change."
I looked at her through the rear view mirror and gave her a toothy grin. "I love you too, Mom!"
~~~
Thank you for reading! I apologize for not uploading sooner, especially with all this free-time with isolation. I didn't expect to have so many other things to read and watch oops.
I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, next one is gonna be a real chapter, I promise
Also shout out to MuffinExtract for being such a great supporter! I don't have that many followers so any vote or comments are appreciated :)