I hurriedly shoved my books into my school bag, hoping Mr. Frederick would forget he wanted to see me.

I stood and slung the strap over my shoulder, trying to get myself lost in the bodies trying to push themselves out the door. Almost there...

"Rachel?"

I froze, my stomach recoiling. Oh no. Busted.

I slowly turned to face the new teacher. His left eyebrow was raised.

"Do you have something urgent?" He asked.

I blinked, ruining my chance at lying.

"No sir," I replied.

He smirked.

"Then you were trying to escape," He said as he approached me, his suitcase held in one arm.

"No!" I quickly said. "I mean... I..."

I mumbled something incoherent. I can't remember what.

He smiled. Something that looked like pity flickered in his eyes. That made me uncomfortable. I mean, I was used to people around me pitying me.Mom,dad, Ms. Sarah... but not strangers. Not this man that I'd just met a few hours ago. He looked at me like he... knew me...

Okay, that was creepy to think about.

"I'm not going to punish you, Rachel," he told me in a gentle voice. "Are you into any sport?"

I blinked, surprised at the question.

"No sir," I replied, my nervousness intensifying. Did mandatory PE classes qualify as sports?

"Well then, you should consider handball. I think you might be good at it," he told me. I didn't know how to reply to that. "Tryouts will take place next Monday. You should come."

"Umm..." I struggled to say something that wouldn't sound rude.

He smiled.

"Good.I'll see you there then."

Without awaiting my reply, he left the classroom.

I remained standing there a few seconds, stunned. What in the world had I just gotten myself into?

"D'you mind telling me what's going on in that head of yours?" Dad asked as he poured his share of shredded carrots into a bowl.

I turned to face him properly. He had his eyebrows raised, and a small smile on his face.

"Dad," I started. "What do you think of handball?"

His eyebrows shot up even further.

"Handball?" he asked. I flushed at his expression. I rarely asked questions like this. He must have been thrown off. "Your mum played handball in high school. She was their best player,"he said.

"Mum played handball?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes. In fact, I started developing a huge crush on her the day she scored the winning goal for a major game in high school," he grinned.

I smiled a small smile, but it disappeared soon after.

"She was that good?" I asked.

"The best," he replied. "Anytime I saw her on the pitch, my heart would melt into a puddle of warm chocolate," he continued dreamily.

"Dad!" I was surprised at the giggle that escaped me. I turned away in embarrassment, my face warm.

"Why the question anyway? You thinking of trying out?" He laughed at the possibility.

"Yes."

Dad paused just as he was about to begin whisking a mixture. His eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face me.

"You want to play handball?"

"Yeah... I was kind of ordered into it today so..."

"I think it's a great idea," he said, a huge smile lighting up his face.

" You do?" I asked, skeptical.

" Of course I do," he dropped the whisk and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm happy you're making such a decision." And he really looked like he was. That alone was motivation enough.

" Thanks dad."

He pulled me into a side hug and kissed the top of my head.

"I'm proud of you, baby."

I shut my eyes, revelling in the warmth of those words. Dad was proud of me.

Don't overthink it, Rachel. He only said that because that's what a father has to say to his child...

I clenched my jaw.

"You're trying out for handball?" It was Xander.

Dad slowly pulled away from me.

I turned towards the door where Xander stood.

"Yeah." Was the only word I could come up with.

Xander made me nervous. I loved my brother of course, but he was the epitome of everything I lacked, except the brains. He made me feel so inferior sometimes I would just want to crawl into my own skin and disappear. It didn't help that he barely showed any interest in me lately. It seemed to me like he saw me as a random house occupant he had no choice but to deal with, not as his blood sister.

He didn't ignore me, but he didn't engage me either.

"Is this about the new teacher?"

I froze. How had he... ?

" I heard a new teacher saved you from Tony today," Xander said.

"I... umm..."

" You were bullied?" Dad asked in a growl.

" I'm fine dad. Mr. Frederick stopped them," I said. Xander raised an eyebrow.

" You know his name?"

"He's our new Physics teacher," I explained.

"Oh, and you're trying out for his team, why?" my brother questioned, arms folded.

I blinked at his sudden curiosity.

"He... asked me to," I replied. "He thinks I might be good."

"Does he?" Xander said in a disbelieving tone.

Hurt stabbed through me at his words.

" Xander. Your sister is taking a bold step here. Can't you at least try to be happy for her?" Dad defended.

"She isn't the one making the decision, dad. He's forcing her into it," Xander responded.

"Alexander...!"

"Dad. It's fine. I'm fine." I avoided both their eyes, staring at anything but them. This couldn't escalate any further.Dad was already angry.The 'full name' thing was proof of that."Excuse me."

And I walked out of the kitchen...

Actually, I ran.

I closed the door to my room behind me, sliding a hand through my hair and pulling it all up, away from my face. I held it with a scrunchie and slid into my chair.

I placed my hands over my ears, hanging my head.

"You're fine, Rachel. Not everything has to hurt... "

You deserve the hurt...

My eyes clouded over, but I didn't let my tears flow.

Don't feel anything Rachel... I chided myself.

Maybe I do have a similarity with Elsa afterall...

Sighing, I drew my schoolbag to myself and fished out the assignment for the day. I needed something to distract me.

Just as I opened the book, a knock sounded against my door. I paused, not making a sound.

"Rachel." It was Xander. "Please, open the door."

I grinded my teeth against themselves, not answering.

"Come on, Rachel. I just want to talk," he pleaded.

"If you've come to apologize, you don't need to. You're right. I'm probably going to be terrible at handball. What in the world was I thinking? I can never be like mum." I bit my lip after murmuring the last two sentences.

There was a pause at the door.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said. Another pause. I heard him sigh. " You should go for the tryouts."

I twirled my pen in my fingers.

" It doesn't matter. I'll just make a fool of myself," I told him. A tear slipped out from the corner of my eye. I reached up and wiped it away, annoyed at myself for crying.

"Do it for mum then."

I stared at the door.

" Rachel?"

I turned away, suppressing a sniff.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. Really," he said.

This time, I couldn't stop the tears. When was the last time Xander and I actually had a conversation, and when was the last time he behaved like an elder brother?Most times, he was carefree and insensitive, always avoiding any conversation about my health, or my therapy sessions, or anything that had to do with my overall weirdness. I didn't blame him. He was bad with stuff like that.

"Okay."

My voice trembled as I said the single word.

"Umm... I... I'll go help dad with the cooking then. See you at dinner?"

"Sure,"I replied.

I heard his receding footsteps. I was alone. Again.

I stared at the chemical equations across the page of my notebook.

Could I really play handball?

~~~
Turns out Xander isn't so insensitive afterall 🥹🥹
What do you think of his behaviour?
Was he right to be suspicious? 🥺

Why do you think Mr Frederick wants Rachel to play handball? Please let me know your thoughts in the comments section. And leave a vote before you go😁

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Till next time...
Love you all💞💖