“Relax. I’m not saying we’re going to go skipping through the meadow,” she continues, almost dryly. “I’m not saying we’re back to normal. But I don’t hate you.”
The words feel like oxygen.
I let out a breath that shakes on the way out.
“I don’t hate you either,” I say, because it needs to be said even if it sounds ridiculous.
She gives me a small, crooked look. “You better not.”
I let out a weak laugh.
We don’t hug or cry.
We just sit side by side.
The game continues in front of us. Jabari makes another run. Amin commands the midfield. Sol scores again and the stadium explodes.
This time, when we stand, we stand together.
The final whistle blows announcing another win.
Another wave of celebration.
Below us, Jabari is being swarmed by teammates and cameras. Up here, my best friend is standing next to me after weeks of silence.
I don’t know which moment is bigger.
This time, when Jabari looks up?—
He sees both of us. Confusion washes his face and I let him know it’s fine with a simple smile. Which he just responds to with a hand over his heart.
Za glances back at the pitch one last time then back at me.
“You look good together,” she admits quietly. “I hope it works out for you.”
It feels so final.
“I missed you,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her jaw tightens. “I know.”
And that’s it.
After that, as the players lap the pitch, a kid no older than twelve hesitates in front of us, clutching a programme.
He looks at Za first.
“Excuse me,” he says shyly. “Are youChinasaokwu?”
Za blinks, I could see her brace with her rehearsed lines of letting Jabari’s fans know she can’t arrange a meet and greet. “Um. Yes?”
“You’re going to be inSix, right?”
Her entire face changes.
“Yes,” she says, a little stunned. “Yeah, that’s me.”
The kid beams. “That’s so cool! My sister loves it. I’m so excited to see it with her..”
