Age Is Just a Number

Chapter 4



Chapter 4

Six Months Later

William – 18 years old.

Zara – 10 years old.

*

While on my way home, I noticed a silver car pass by and park in front of William’s house. The car door opens, and three men and two women get out.

I smiled when I saw William get out of the car. He is dressed in his customary basketball clothing, implying that he has just returned from practice. I grabbed my backpack’s strap and prepared to dash towards him when a black-haired girl in skinny blue pants and a tight top with two large balloons on her chest rushed on him.

I looked down at myself, seeing my shoes, and let out a sigh.

Looking back up, the girl put her arms around his neck and crushed their lips together. The two guys around them exclaimed, “Woooooah.”

“Lay a good one on her, William!” One of them shouts. The other guy performed this odd motion with his hips that made everyone laugh out loud.

I did not understand.

Biting my lip, I dash into my house. I hear someone calling my name, but I ignore it and slam the door. I throw my shoes on the ground and lean against the wall, slipping down until my bottom reaches the floor.

“Another girlfriend, of course,” I murmur.

After a while of self-pity, I take my backpack and bring it upstairs. “Daddy, I’m home!” I shouted, but there was no response. He must be working late again.

I take one step at a time up the stairs, looking down at my feet. “Why are you taking so long?” I whine and stomp my foot before continuing to drag my feet.

When I entered the bedroom, I threw my backpack into the corner and sat down in bed. I close my eyes and I pictured them kissing. “She isn’t even that pretty,” I murmur, aware that it is a lie. Every one of William’s girlfriends is pretty.

I soon fell asleep, but then a tapping sound emerged. I ignore it, yet the tapping continues. When I realize the source is from the window, I drag my leg towards it. Scrunching my hand into a fist, I open my eyes. Instantly, it widens, seeing William’s tapping a rock by my window. He saw me and smiled. If I hadn’t known him for nearly two years, this would’ve been very creepy or…romantic? No, definitely creepy.

I slide my window up. “Why are you here?” I look down and find him on a ladder.

“I rang your doorbell several times, but you didn’t answer, so I became concerned and threw rocks at your glass. You didn’t respond, so here I am,” he murmured, laying his head against the window frame.

“O-kay, I’m fine?”

He throws his shirt at me. “Wear this to my game tomorrow.”

Unwrapping the white shirt, I noticed his sports number-16 on it. “Why do I have to wear it?”

He smiles at me, “Every member of the squad must give someone special their shirt, and you are my Angel. So, of course, you must wear it. For good luck, of course.”

“William!” His mother calls.

“Wear it tomorrow. I’ve already told my mother. So come by early and she’ll help you fix it.” He smiles again before sliding down the ladder.

When I hear an; “ouch!” I rush to the edge and see him on top of a bush. “I am fine! Just a few burns.” He shows his red palms. He then stands up and limps back to his house. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” He shouts and gives me a thumbs up, indicating that he is fine.

—– —–

I sat there with William’s parents, a younger stepbrother named Sheng, and his girlfriend, all cheering him on.

“Go, babe!” William’s girlfriend cheers for him loudly, attracting a lot of attention.

She sat with her friends behind us, “I can’t believe you’re dating William! He is really hot!” One of her friends said.

“I bet he is good in bed, too,” another commented, giving her a wink.

She giggled, which upset me. I slept with William since I was eight. What makes you special?

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to wear his shirt?” A girl murmurs. I noticed her gazing at me.

Earlier in the morning. I went to the Yi’s house, and William’s mother helped me cup the shirt a little because William is a giant. She performed some magic, and the clothing fit me. Because the shirt is white, I chose to wear a wide white ribbon, a lovely red skirt, and long white stockings. William says I look gorgeous.

“He told me he wants to give it to his little sister,” she said.

I frown at her words. I am not William’s younger sister. Why is she constantly telling everyone this?

“Zara, dear, something wrong?” Mrs. Yi asks.

I shook my head. “I’m thirsty, I’m going to go get a soda.”

“Would you like me to go with you, dear?” She inquires, and I shake my head.

“I’m ten, Mrs. Yi, and I can go by myself,” I said, descending the bleachers.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Be careful, dear!”

I nodded and gave her the thumbs up.

I walk out and wait in line, reaching into my skirt for a five-dollar bill. I start humming to myself and spinning my skirt before stopping as I feel someone poke me. I look around, notice a guy whistling, and then turn back. I feel the poke again and I looked at him. “Stop poking me!”

He’s a little taller than me, with green eyes and blonde hair. I wanted to punch his face. He shrugs: “I didn’t do it.”

I puff my cheeks, feeling another poke, but ignoring it. That was how it went the entire time; he kept poking me, and I slapped his hand away, knowing it was him. “One coke, please,” I said and paid the lady before walking back to the game, feeling the poke again.

We reach inside, and by that time, I exploded. I whip my head towards him, noticing his finger still in the air, ready to poke me again. “Stop poking me!”

He shoves his half-finished chocolate bar in front of my face. “Want some chocolate?” he asked, swallowing the remainder in his mouth.

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Chocolate. Want some?”

“Why do you keep poking me?”

He stands there, silently placing the chocolate bar down. I notice him gazing at someone, and I turn to see a couple men from my school waving at him. They sat down when they noticed me staring at them and looking at their shoes, and I returned my focus to him, seeing his face get red. “Y-you look c-cute,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“Y-You’re cute.”

“What?” I spoke a little louder because I couldn’t hear him.

The buzzer sounds, and the audience stops chanting.

“You’re cute!” He shouts, his voice reverberating around the auditorium.

Suddenly, everyone turned their heads towards us, and my face flushed a deep scarlet. I can hear the crowd go; “Awwww.” I bit my lower lip and hurried back to my seat.

“Now wasn’t that just cute, but remember everyone, we got a game to finish,” the announcer remarked.

The second half of the game begins, and I catch a glimpse of the guy from earlier, who continues to stare at me. I play with William’s shirt and look at him again. He smiles at me, and I smile back. He slowly raised his hand to wave, and I did the same. His friends smiled at me before pushing him, making him redder.

“What’s up with William? His game is off,” one of the females behind me commented.

William missed his shot. I sat there, watching as he missed shot after shot. He pushes his sweaty hair back and raises his face to the ceiling, mumbling some things. He turns and glances at me before hurriedly averting his gaze and shaking his head.

That is bizarre. William is an excellent basketball player. He rarely misses shots. He is so talented that college coaches came to recruit him! I saw him chatting to the coach and bowing his head in apology. He looked up, met my gaze, and sat down on the bench.

“Go speak to him, Carmen! You are his girlfriend,” a girl hisses. Carmen nods and moves to the bench.

Oh yeah, that’s her name, Carmen. I nod and sip my soda. After a few words, William places his face in his palms, and she walks away. “He is probably just having a bad day,” she laughs. I watch as she sniffs and walks out the door, followed by her friends.

“Mrs. Yi, can you hold my soda?” I ask. Mrs. Yi held my soda.

I hop down the bench and stand next to William, poking his arm. He gives a long sigh. “Carmen, for the fucking last time. I’m just having-” he pauses when he notices me.

“Is everything okay?” I whisper. He must be upset.

He smiled. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Just having an off day.”

I waved my hand, signaling him to move over. And he did. I take a seat on the bench and grip his large fingers in my small hand. I wish I had bigger hands so I could hold his hand like those girls.

He laughs, “You aren’t here to console me? Tell me, I can do it?”

I shake my head and dangle my feet in the air. “I’m here until your bad day is over,” I say with a smirk. “Is it over yet?”

He bit his upper lip and nodded. “Definitely.” He messes with my hair before rising up.

“Coach, I’m ready to go back.”


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