Dear Dakota | Academic Rivalry Story

Eight | Strawberry

D A K O T A R E I D

This Saturday afternoon will be spent at the Dubois' house. All-day and night long. I think we have all realized that the weekends will be alternating between the three houses.

"This is sad," Julian says, taking a sip of water. "Imagine hanging out with your friends' kids but not your own. Hell, look at him." He motions to Atlas who is passed out on the living room couch.

"Passed out like your dad whenever Anneliese used to come over to watch movies with him." Nyla and lets out a laugh, shaking her head while I bite on my tongue to not let one slip out. "Honestly you should be thanking me because without me there wouldn't be no you."

"Huh?" It is too late for this complicated talk.

"If I didn't scare the shit out of your dad that one night at a haunted house and then didn't come into his room to tell him to confess his feelings for your mom... I would be the adopted Reid child and there would be no biological Reids."

"Julian! Stop messing with the kid. Adopted child? Please." Riley yells from a room then I hear her and my sister burst into laughter.

"Are you tipsy?" The words slip out of Nyla's mouth.

"Nah, I don't drink," Julian responds.

"So you're always like this?"

"Pretty much."

Nyla clicks her tongue. "Cool."

"Nyla I didn't change at all. Don't act like I am a stranger. It seriously bruises my ego." Julian says walking into the kitchen. "You guys want something to drink."

"J, we are eighteen."

"Seventeen," Nyla adds on.

"See, Dakota you're tripping me out, man. You look so much like your dad I almost called you his name. Wait... you're so close to the age I was when I met the group in college."

I don't think I look exactly like either of my parents. I would say I am the perfect mix of both. My mom's eyes and freckles, with my dad's hair and personality.

"How are school and soccer going for you two?"

Nyla runs a hand through her hair, waiting for me to answer first, but then speaks up. "School is going good." She says giving me a challenging side-eye. "Soccer, not so much."

"What happened?" He asks, filling up his glass of water.

"Oh, I quit."

Julian's cup only gets halfway to his mouth when she says that, he pauses. "What a casual way to break the news."

"Sorry Coach, I don't play on a team anymore. I occasionally go outside and play by myself, but that is about it." I see the way that bummed him out. Out of all four of us, she was the most passionate about the sport. I can see the way he got bummed out. Julian hates when we call him Coach. He says it is because it makes him feel old since he was the one coaching us ever since we were little.

"Did your love for it fall out? You wouldn't keep the soccer ball out of your hands when you were little." He asks while we walk outside, onto his back patio.

She shakes her head, "I still love soccer. I just had to be so cautious to the point I ended up leaving the sport for good."

Her diabetes was the reason she had to quit the sport. I never thought about it that way. I don't even want to think about the look on her face when she came to the final decision. Heartbreak and emptiness must've been the answer. I couldn't imagine dedicating so many years of my life to a sport and having it all slip away from my fingertips. Who knew exercise could affect your glucose levels?