Page 49 of I Blame the Club

Taking a deep breath, I put my phone back on the table. I can feel my anger threatening to unleash itself, but I lock it down with a few deep breaths.

Think, Mo. Don’t let the emotions rule you.

Shaking the lingering turmoil from my body, I glance at my watch and quickly formulate a new plan.

Thirty minutes to get my things in order. Ten minutes to get my ass over to the university and onto the team bus. Becausethanks to my sister, driving to the away game is no longer an option.

I wait until the last possible second to board the bus. Climbing the narrow stairs, recycled air immediately fills my nose and I make a beeline for the seat directly behind the driver.

“Coach Mo! Come back and chill with us. We’re playing cards against humanity.” André waves at me from the last row but I ignore him and plop down in the first row.

Shifting uncomfortably, I curse my sister for the umpteenth time as my legs press into the ripped leather in front of me. Taber University lives and breathes on a tight budget, so it came as no surprise that the team bus was a regular, ugly, yellow school bus.

Laughter rings out behind me but I don’t bother turning around. My shoulders are almost as wide as the seat itself and I can barely move from the claustrophobia already pressing down on me. Reaching for the window next to me, I pry the rusty metal frame open as far as it will go, but it doesn’t offer the faintest breeze.

Sweat coats my forehead as panic sinks in, the nausea already rising in the back of my throat. I’m going to be stuck in this airtight cylinder for over two hours with no fresh oxygen to think of.

Forcing myself to swallow, I quickly grab my air pods out of my bag and jam them into my ears. Restarting the podcast I was listening to this morning, I try and focus on the narrator’s voice as the bus pulls out of the parking lot.

Our Tiger chant breaks through my podcast and I risk a glance over my shoulder to see Nico and Wes walking up and down theaisle, hyping up the boys. My eyes linger on Nico’s snug jeans as he walks by the group of rookies, the ripped material hugging his lower body perfectly.

The bus jerks forward and my eyes snap back to the front, my stomach contents swirling from the rocky motion. Grabbing my bag again, I pop two pills into my mouth and swallow them dry.

Don’t feel, just think.

The opposite use of my mother’s wisdom puts a smile on my face, the memory of her soft features and bright smile flashing through my mind. She was the light to my father’s dark, the warmth to his chill.

For my mother, it was dancing that made everything better.

For me, it was my mother.

My thoughts drift away as we hit the highway, the smoother roads easing my body as my mind takes me back to a time when my mother was alive.

“I got you something.” My mother’s eyes sparkle with excitement, her hands tucked behind her back, “Close your eyes.”

I shake my head with a sigh, “Aren’t I a little old for surprises?”

She smiles, “No one is ever too old for surprises.”

“Pretty sure father would disagree.”

Her smile only brightens, “Your father loves my surprises. Now, quit being stubborn and close your eyes.”

I groan, making a show of closing my eyes, “Happy?”

She taps my nose, “Just because you’re off to university doesn’t mean you get to be cheeky. Okay, open them.”

I slowly open my eyes, seeing my mother’s unbridled excitement radiating from every pore in her body. The sight has me smiling before I see anything else.

“You're going to love it.” She claps her hands, barely able to contain herself.

I look around the room, letting out a confused laugh, “Mom, there’s nothing here.”

She smiles coyly, “Check your pockets.”

“You know, most people put the surprise out in front of them.”

Chuckling, I reach into my pocket and find a piece of paper. She waits patiently as I read it, the warmth in my chest expanding with each box on the list.

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