The next day, classes went on peacefully without any quarrels or drama. It was almost too quiet—until after school, when something unusual happened.
Chris came looking for Sarah.
"What's up, bro?" Sarah asked casually.
"Michael is dead," Chris said bluntly.
Dora and Sarah froze. Sarah turned sharply to look at her.
"What happened?" Dora asked, her voice trembling.
Chris swallowed. "He had an accident last night after dropping us off. It claimed his life."
Sarah stood there, speechless for a moment. Then she asked softly, "Did he... like me?"
Chris nodded. "Yeah. That's why I arranged for you two to meet. He wanted to impress you with his football skills. He knew you liked games."
Sarah blinked back tears. "Oh... I see. I'm sorry. Please accept our condolences."
Chris looked down. "Thanks. I'm heading to his house now."
"Are you going there?" Dora asked gently.
"Yeah," Chris replied. "Are you coming with me?"
"No... we have something to do," Dora said, glancing at Sarah. "But extend our greetings to the family."
Chris nodded and walked away.
Once he was out of sight, Sarah asked, "Do you think his death was because of me?"
Dora stepped closer. "No, twinnie. It's not your fault."
Sarah's voice trembled. "But I was impressed by him... and he liked me. All the guys that have ever liked me and impressed me... they always die."
Dora reached for her hand. "We need to see the priest."
"But what if this isn't something a priest can fix?" Sarah whispered. "Maybe I should just kill my emotions. Maybe I should become a nun..."
"What?!" Dora exclaimed.
"I'm serious. What should I do?" Sarah asked, her voice cracking.
"Be patient," Dora said gently. "Let's see the priest first."
And with that, they left.
Shane's POV
After school, I got word that my best friend's younger brother had died. I rushed to their house, only to find out he had already been buried that day.
He had asked me to get a teddy bear for his crush. Now he was gone... I wondered if he ever got to tell her how he felt.
I sat beside Martins, his older brother. "Be strong, bro," I said quietly.
Martins sighed. "Before he died, he told me he finally talked to his crush. He even drove her home after the match."
I patted his shoulder lightly. Just then, a guy approached.
"Hey, Chris," Martins greeted him.
"Accept my condolences," Chris replied quietly.
"This is Chris, Michael's best friend," Martins introduced.
"Nice meeting you. I'm Shane," I said, shaking his hand.
"Michael liked your sister, right?" Martins asked Chris.
Chris nodded.
"Is she here?" Martins asked.
"No," Chris said. "I haven't told her yet."
"I hope she comes to pay her last respects," Martins said.
"She will," Chris assured.
Later that day, I stopped by the comic store to pick up my cap.
"Good evening, sir," I greeted the owner.
"Miss Williams dropped your cap," he said, handing it to me.
"Thank you," I replied with a smile.
The next day at school, I went to the volleyball club to show interest in joining. After some intense training sessions, I was accepted as a trainee.
During break, we split into teams for a match. I gave it my all, and girls on the sidelines cheered me on. I saw some of the guys fuming.
Among the crowd, I spotted Sarah and Dora. They were deep in conversation, their expressions unusually serious. Our eyes met—but she quickly looked away.
Just then, a fan offered me a biscuit. I took it and walked toward them.
"Here," I said, holding it out to Sarah.
She stared at it. "Why?"
"For dry-cleaning my cap. It smells nice... like you," I added with a playful grin.
"Are you impressed by me?" she asked, raising a brow.
"You're pretty," I replied.
"I know. But don't fall for me. It's for your own safety," she warned, her voice sharp.
I smiled. "You're pretty—but so are 20 million other girls."
Then, without waiting for a response, I shoved the biscuit into her pocket and turned away as murmurs echoed around us.
She scoffed and walked off with Dora.
After school, I wanted to apologize.
I saw her hailing a taxi.
"Hey!" I called out—but she didn't look back.
She got in. I quickly hailed another taxi and asked the driver to follow.
She arrived at a flower shop and bought white flowers—funeral flowers.
Out of curiosity, I followed her to the cemetery.
She stopped at Michael's grave.
She gently laid the white flowers down.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"I'm sorry... you died because of me," she whispered.
To be continued...