chapter twelve – emery

My phone screen shows Mila’s name and I swipe the green call button to accept her call. Blurred her face appears on my screen. It takes a few seconds to get sharp.
“Hi,” Mila greets me with a smile on her face. She’s finally back from her stay with her sister.
“Hey, how was it at your sister?” I ask her.
“Oh, it was so lovely! I’ll tell you more about it when we’re back training. How are you doing?” Mila wants to know.
“I am better. Actually, I’ve thought about maybe looking for a therapist,” I declare. It’s not something I am ashamed of, or anybody needs to be ashamed of, but it’s my first time saying it out loud, and I don’t know how Mila will react. To be honest, it feels a little bit like a coming out all over again. Although with Mila I always knew that she would react well.
“I am really proud of you Em. You’ve come so far, and I know you can get even farther with how strong you are,” Mila says. With her, I know that she means it honestly.
“Thank you,” I give her a little nod and a smile appears on my face at those words. At that moment it knocks on my door.
“Come in,” I say. I turn to see who it is and find my mother standing in the doorway. I put Mila on mute.
“What are you doing? I thought I told you to study some since school is starting again soon,” my mother says sharply, looking at the phone that I am holding like a judge.
“I never said I would study, and I am talking to Mila right now,” I say with a sigh.
My mother lets out a sigh similar to mine as if she didn’t know what to do with me any more. And maybe she doesn’t.
“I am bloody disappointed in you Emery, really disappointed. We should again consider you quitting football if you get so distracted by it and all your friends from there,” my mum says in a stern voice.
“It has always been you who considered me quitting football, there never was an “us” in this and there never will be. What do you want mum? Because if you’re only here to tell me how disappointed you are and what a bad daughter I am, you can just leave. I don’t need to and even more important I don’t want to hear this shit any more,” I tell my mother. She lets out an exaggerated gasp, turns around, and closes the door behind her without another word.
“Sorry Mils, that was my mum,” I unmute her.
“Everything okay with your parents?” Mila asks. I can see the concern in her chestnut-brown eyes.
“My mum just came in to tell me she’s disappointed in me and that I should quit football, so not with her. But I think my dad might be coming around,” I say.
“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Mila says, putting into words what I’ve been thinking.