Mixed Feelings
1656 Words
Anthony stepped through the front door, the soft click of it closing behind him muffled by the distant hum of a television.
The warm scent of sautéed vegetables and tomato stew floated in the air, grounding him with a brief sense of comfort.
Despite the warmth, something in his chest still felt cold.
“Anthony?”
He glanced up to see his mum peering at him from the kitchen.
Her apron was still tied around her waist, and her cheeks were dusted with flour.
She had that look—worried but trying to keep it calm.
Before she could say more, Anthony walked over and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Evening, Mum.”
She studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, shrugging his duffle bag off his shoulder. “Just a hectic day.”
“You look like someone carrying the weight of the whole school,” she said softly.
His sister, Cassie, was already seated at the dining table, digging into a plate of fried plantains and jollof rice.
Her ears perked at their exchange.
“Oh, Mum, did you see the school’s hockey highlight today?”
Cassie chimed in, talking through a mouthful of rice.
“Anthony practically bulldozed someone on the ice.”
Anthony groaned under his breath.
“It was not that serious,” he said, brushing past to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Looked serious enough,” Cassie teased. “Coach had to drag you off the rink.”
“Cassie,” their mum warned, her eyes still on Anthony.
He unscrewed the bottle cap and poured water into a glass.
The coolness of the liquid did little to douse the heat stirring inside him.
He sipped, then turned, leaning his hip against the counter.
Their mum patted the space on the kitchen stool beside her. “Come here.”
Anthony hesitated before crossing over and settling next to her.
She looked at him properly now. “Talk to me. What really happened?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not... easy to explain.”
“Try me.”
He sighed, then began. “There’s this girl.
At school. I don’t even know how to explain it, Mum. She’s... different.
She’s not even my type, not the kind of girl I usually go for.
But” he paused, frowning “whenever I see her, it’s like something inside of me flips.
I get this tightness in my chest. My head starts spinning. She doesn’t even talk much, she’s quiet, keeps to herself. But her eyes...”
He trailed off.
Cassie leaned in from the dining room, grinning. “Aww. Anthony’s got a crush.”
“Cassie, zip it,” their mum said without looking at her.
Anthony rubbed his temples, frustrated.
“It’s not just that. Today, during the game, I saw Matt talking to her.
And I don’t even know why it got to me, but I felt... angry. Like irrationally angry
I couldn’t focus.
And the next thing I knew, I slammed into an opponent harder than necessary. I wasn’t even aiming for him. I was just... angry.”
His mum reached out and gently touched his hand. “Anthony.
You said she’s not your type. What do you mean by that?”
He exhaled. “She’s not... the typical girl I’d go for. She’s kind of on the chubby side.
Not in a bad way, she’s actually really pretty. Like, beautiful eyes.
Deep brown curls. But she’s not someone people would expect me to like.
She doesn’t fit the image.”
“Whose image?” his mum asked.
He looked down. “I don’t know. Mine.
His mum chuckled softly. “Oh, Anthony.
Attraction doesn’t follow rules. Or status. Or image. It just... is.”
He bit his lip, unsure of what to say.
“Do you like her?”
“I don’t even know,” he muttered. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand any of this.
I’m just confused. I don’t even talk to her.
But every time I see her, something just... stirs.”
His mother nodded slowly. “Sometimes, feelings don’t come with explanations.
You don’t have to have all the answers right now. You’re seventeen, not thirty.
You’re allowed to be confused. It doesn’t mean you’re broken.”
He gave her a small smile, appreciating the calm in her voice
“Now,” she said, reaching to ruffle his hair, “come give your mother a hug.”
“Gross, Mum,” Anthony chuckled, pulling away playfully. “I’m too old for that.”
“Too old, my foot.”
Cassie snorted. “He’s blushing.”
“Mind your business!” Anthony and his mother said in unison.
Cassie rolled her eyes, giggling. “Fine, whatever.
But if you end up writing love poems, I’m exposing you.”
Anthony grabbed his bag and stood up, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re both impossible.”
His mum smiled at him. “Don’t overthink it, okay? Just breathe. And don’t lose yourself trying to suppress what you feel.
Feelings are not weaknesses.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Always his mother replied.
As Anthony disappeared up the stairs, Cassie turned to their mum, eyes wide.
“Mum! So what did he say? Did he really say he likes her?”
Their mum just raised a brow and picked up her cooking spoon. “Mind your business.”
Cassie giggled again, her voice trailing behind as she returned to her plate.
Upstairs, Anthony sat on the edge of his bed, the thoughts swirling like smoke in his head.
He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes together to try and force himself to sleep.
And just as he was about to close his eyes and let sleep claim him, a gentle knock sounded at his door.
“Anthony, are you sleeping?” came the familiar voice of his father.
Anthony opened his eyes, a little surprised. He sat up, rubbing his hand across his face. “No, Dad. You can come in.”
The door creaked open, and Alfred stepped in, tall and commanding as always.
Dressed in a simple shirt and slacks, he looked every bit the strong and stoic man Anthony had always admired.
There was something reassuring about his father’s presence that always seemed to put his mind at rest.
To Anthony, Alfred wasn’t just the head of their pack.
He was everything he aspired to be: disciplined, wise, powerful.
Alfred walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at Anthony with a calm, observing gaze.
“Your coach called,” he said, his tone light and not raised.
Anthony sighed before his father could continue. “Yeah, I know, Pa. I lost it on the ice and It won’t happen again.”
Alfred nodded. “I know it won’t. And I know you, son. That’s not like you.”
He paused for a moment, his voice softening. “I want you to know… if anything’s bothering you, anything at all you can talk to us. To me.”
“I understand, Pa,” Anthony replied, voice a little husky with emotion he didn’t want to show.
Alfred smiled faintly, his eyes warm. “So tell me… how do you feel about your coming of age ceremony?”
Anthony exhaled, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know… but yeah, I’m looking forward to it.
I mean, I want to know who my destined mate is and I also want to start getting ready to become the next Alpha.”
“That’s my boy,” Alfred said with quiet pride, giving Anthony’s shoulder a firm pat.
“The blood of leaders runs strong in you. I see it every day.”
Anthony looked down at his hands.
“Sometimes, I just wonder what it’ll take to truly be like you.”
“You’ll find your own path,” Alfred replied.
“It won’t be like mine. It’ll be yours. But I believe in you.”
There was a brief silence one of those comfortable pauses that existed between two people who understood each other.
Alfred stood up.
“We’re training tomorrow near the playground. Will you be joining us?”
Anthony groaned lightly but smiled. “Yes, Pa. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“Nope,” Alfred said with a teasing grin. “We train at night so I’ll see you there.”
Anthony nodded. “Goodnight, Pa.”
His father moved toward the door and paused just before opening it. “Sleep well, son.”
With that, he exited, closing the door quietly behind him.
Anthony exhaled and leaned back into his pillows. His mind was calmer now, but not quiet.
As he stared at the ceiling, his phone pinged beside him on the bed.
He picked it up.
A message from Matt. A picture.
It was a selfie, or rather, a close-up shot of Matt wearing two different outfits.
The message read:
“Bro, which one is better for a date night? I need to kill it 😎🔥”
Anthony rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. He stared at the images for a moment, then tapped the one he knew most girls didn’t really go for just to mess with Matt.
“This one.”
He sent the reply, grinning to himself.
Matt immediately responded: “Really?? You sure?”
Anthony smirked, tossed the phone onto the bed without replying, and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
But even in the quiet, his thoughts weren’t done with him. They wandered again to her.
“Ugh,” he muttered to himself, covering his face with a pillow.
And Sleep really wasn’t going to come easily tonight.
- Writer
