Winning My Ex-Crush

Laird’s POV

Now Fenella and I were cycling back home. Along the way, Fenella chattered about how nice Adam and his family were to us. Also about how we played games such as soccer and dancing games with excitement.

“Laird, you said you have a soccer game, right?” Fenella, who was cycling next to me, asked again.

“Yes, I do, but I rarely play it,” I replied softly.

“In that case, may I borrow it? I want to practice so I won’t keep losing to Adam.”

Once again, she came up with a foolish idea. I glanced briefly, with a furrowed brow, at Fenella.

“Why are you so eager to beat Adam?”

“No, I just want to at least be able to match him in a soccer game. You know, I want to be a fun friend to play games with. Playing games seems more exciting if you have an evenly matched opponent.”

Hearing that, I laughed again.

“So, you just realized you’re not fun to play with?” I teased her again. “I even got bored accompanying you in the dancing game. It’s good that you want to learn. You should also practice playing the shooting war game.”

Fenella loved playing the dancing game. She was even considered very agile, following the arrows to dance. Her feet would dance skillfully on the pink and blue electronic carpet.

Several times I tried to teach her other games, but the girl proved that her feet were more agile than moving her fingers on the console.

“Shooting war?” Fenella asked uncertainly.

“Yes.”

We stopped by the roadside in front of the Baxter family’s house. We got off our bikes, and I was ready to walk to my house.

“In that case, lend it to me now. Come on, let’s go to your house first.” She started to become impatient again, while I could only sigh.

“I’ll give it to you tomorrow morning. Besides, you probably won’t be able to play it tonight anyway. Friday night, you have a family dinner, remember?” I said it lazily and started walking, leaving her alone.

“Hey, Laird, wait.”

Fenella chased after me. She parked her bike carelessly on the sidewalk in front of her house. She followed me, walking beside me while I led my bike across the street to my house.

“Did you hear his mom say that Adam’s birthday is next month? How about I give him the latest soccer game as a gift?”

Once again, I could only sigh at her foolish idea. From one foolish idea to another.

“Do you have any money?” I said, underestimating her.

“I still have some old savings. I can also save my allowance for next month.” She spoke confidently, but of course, I immediately shattered her fantasies with the facts.

“You only have a month to save money, and your monthly allowance is only half the price of a new CD game. Add it to your savings-do you have up to $60?”

I remembered her monthly allowance. Her family was rich, but her parents were stingy and raised her in a strict manner. The average student in our school, including me and my brother, received a monthly allowance of $50, while their only daughter received only $30.

“No. But I have an idea!” She smiled confidently.

“Don’t tell me.” I stopped in front of my house and narrowed my eyes warily.

“I’m going to start a business!”

***

“Come on! Come on! Buy everything! Last stock! Get it now! Don’t miss out!”

Fenella’s voice echoed loudly in the Little League spectator seating area at the field. With strict rules to sell in an orderly fashion, she got permission from the committee to be one of the hawkers in our small field. With a cross-strapped box hanging on her shoulder, Fenella turned into the most active and youngest roaming hawker.

Every Saturday, Little League baseball games ran from the morning until noon. This moment provided an opportunity for her to make a profit. She seemed diligent and hardworking enough to sell under the hot midday sun.

“Hotdogs! Cracker Jacks! Lemonade! Iced tea! Buy the last stock!”

I sat amidst the crowd of spectators. Wearing the minor team’s varsity jacket, I blended in with the spectators of the major games for teenagers. Most of them were family members and friends of the players.

The minor-level game had ended earlier, at 10 o’clock. It was now showing 11 o’clock plus 50 minutes. If the Major Boston team could lead by just one score in this last inning, then the game could end soon, and everyone would leave. Meaning, Fenella would lose out if she didn’t manage to sell out her goods soon.

“Ah, it’s a shame. Why was that number 12 hit so weak?” Josh complained while watching the game.

“Maybe he’s tired,” Brad, my teammate and Josh’s brother, replied.

“You guys were like that too. In the last few minutes, it was obvious that you were exhausted. Your runs were slow, and your hits weren’t focused,” Josh commented again on our morning friendly match against the team from Vermont.

“I wonder too. We’ve been losing for three consecutive weeks in this early autumn season. Why, I wonder?” Brad asked, his lips pouting.

I could only sigh. Of course, we were all frustrated, but we just had to train harder. After last summer, when Brad and I didn’t make it into the Major U-12 team, it felt like our performance had been declining ever since.

“Hey, Brad, Josh, aren’t you hungry? Aren’t you thirsty from yelling since morning?” I asked the brothers sitting on my right. I intentionally diverted the conversation from our gloomy mood.

“Yeah, I am. My water’s run out,” Josh said, examining his tumblr.

“Do you have any ideas for a tasty lunch?” Brad asked me.

“You brought money, right? Just buy iced tea or hotdogs.”Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“Do you want a hotdog?” Josh asked Brad.

“Sure,” Brad replied casually.

“Fenella! Over here!” Josh raised his hand to get the attention of Fenella, who was standing near the stairs.

Instantly, the blue-eyed girl followed Josh’s hand gesture, and Fenella hurried over to us. I immediately counted the remaining stock in Fenella’s basket. Three hotdogs, a pack of crackers, three iced teas, and two lemonades were the goods left.

“We’ll buy everything.” I quickly cut off Josh, who was about to choose his food.