As I walked up the path to Sarah's home, I felt a sense of excitement and nervousness building up inside me. I had been looking forward to visiting her all day, and the anticipation was almost palpable. When I arrived, her younger brother Michael answered the door, his bright smile welcoming me into their cozy home.
"Hey, Robin! Sarah's downstairs in the basement," he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
I thanked him and made my way down to the basement, my footsteps echoing off the walls. As I descended the stairs, I heard the soft strains of music drifting up, accompanied by the gentle scratch of brushstrokes on canvas. When I reached the bottom, I saw Sarah sitting at an easel, surrounded by canvases, paints, and art supplies. She was completely absorbed in her artwork, her focus intense.
"Hey, Sarah," I said softly, not wanting to startle her out of her creative reverie.
She looked up, startled, and then broke into a warm, radiant smile. "Robin! I didn't hear you come in," she said, her eyes sparkling with delight.
I walked closer to her easel, intrigued by her painting. "What are you working on?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Sarah stepped back, revealing a stunning portrait of a woman. The subject's eyes seemed to gaze directly into my soul, their warmth and kindness captivating me.
"It's my mom," Sarah said, her voice filled with emotion, her eyes misting over.
I was taken aback, my heart going out to her. "Your mom? She's beautiful," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sarah nodded, her voice cracking with emotion. "She was. She passed away from cancer when I was 12," she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
I felt a pang of sadness, my heart heavy with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. I had no idea," I said, my voice filled with compassion.
Sarah's eyes overflowed with tears, but she smiled through them. "It's okay. It's been a while. But I miss her every day," she said, her voice trembling.
I looked at the painting again, seeing the love and longing in every brushstroke, every color choice. "This is incredible. You're so talented," I said, my admiration genuine.
Sarah smiled, wiping away her tears. "Thanks, Robin. I paint to remember her, to keep her memory alive," she said, her voice filled with determination.
We stood there in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft music playing in the background, the tension between us palpable.
"Can I ask you something?" I said finally, breaking the silence.
"Of course," Sarah replied, her eyes locked onto mine.
"What's your favorite memory of your mom?" I asked, my curiosity genuine.
Sarah's eyes sparkled, a faraway look in her gaze. "Oh, there are so many. But one time that stands out is when she took me to the beach. We spent the whole day building sandcastles and collecting seashells. She was so happy that day, and it's a memory I'll always treasure," she said, her voice filled with nostalgia.
I smiled, feeling a deep connection to Sarah, to her story. "That sounds amazing. I'm sure she's proud of the person you've become," I said, my voice filled with conviction.
Sarah's face lit up with a warm, radiant smile. "Thanks, Robin. That means a lot coming from you," she said, her eyes shining with gratitude.
Sarah's gaze turned curious, her eyes sparkling with concern as she asked, "So, what about you? What was going on in your head today during training? You seemed really off, like your mind was elsewhere."
I sighed, rubbing my temples, trying to massage away the tension. "Honestly, I don't know. I just can't put my finger on what's bothering me. My mind was a mess out there. I couldn't focus, couldn't think straight."
Sarah nodded empathetically, her expression understanding. "You seemed really distracted. But maybe I can help you figure it out."
She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face, as if collecting her thoughts. "Hey, have you checked the college acceptance list lately?" she asked, her voice gentle.
I shook my head, feeling a twinge of anxiety, a knot forming in my stomach. "No, why?"
Sarah's eyes locked onto mine, her gaze intense. "Because your name is still blank, Robin. You haven't picked a college yet. And I know how much you've been stressing about it."
I shrugged, trying to brush it off, but Sarah's words struck a chord. "I'm not in a rush. I've got time."
But Sarah's gaze persisted, her eyes boring into mine. "That's not what I mean. Why haven't you chosen a college, Robin? You're one of the top students in our class. You have so many options."
I sighed, feeling the weight of my father's expectations bearing down on me like a heavy burden. "It's complicated, Sarah. My dad...he's really pushing me to go to his alma mater. He wants me to follow in his footsteps, study business, and take over the family company."
Sarah's expression turned understanding, her eyes filled with empathy. "And that's not what you want?" she asked, her voice soft.
I shook my head, feeling a surge of frustration, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. "No, it's not. But my dad...he's always trying to control things, control my life. He wants me to live his dream, not mine."
Sarah's eyes filled with compassion, her voice gentle. "That must be tough for you, Robin. Feeling trapped, feeling like you're losing yourself in the process."
I nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Sarah, grateful for her understanding. "It is. But you're right. I need to stand up for myself, choose what makes me happy."
Sarah smiled encouragingly, her eyes sparkling with support. "You will, Robin. You're strong enough. And I'll be here to support you, every step of the way."
We sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft music playing in the background, the tension between us palpable, but comforting.
I think I'm beginning to lose myself to her, all this were supposed to just be a bet of making her prom queen, but now, inside my head, I'm beginning to feel like it's more than that.