Painful Lessons

Don’t do it, don’t do it. I willed myself, trying to stay strong. But my body never obeys me in times like this. My eyes welled up with tears, and they started to make their slow descent down my face.

Kweku looked at me, slightly confused. “Ah, are you crying?” he asked, his eyes widening with surprise.

“No.” I said, trying to blink the tears away, but that seemed to make them come down hotter and faster. Kweku’s bewilderment turned into wild glee.

“Ah you are crying? You are crying!” he shouted, laughing really hard. I tried to tell him to stop laughing at me, but what I intended to be deterring words came out as an embarrassingly loud sob. Kweku cracked up even more. Blindly I used the back of my hands to wipe away my tears. Kweku walked past me,still laughing.

“But you know, nobody sent you. So I don’t see why you are crying,” I heard him chuckle. I ignored him, and busied myself with ridding my face of sweat and tears.

“Take, it’s a goal kick,” he said, smirking as he handed the ball to me. “Next time if you see the ball coming with speed use your common sense and put your hands over your balls. You’re my little cousin, not a commando.”