Big Shot: Tag Team

Ch. 2

~Bella~

This wasn't the first time that we landed in Omma's office but dang was she scary when she was angry. Her eyes got to three times their normal size and they were pitch black when they stared into your soul. Her eyebrows created a ridge over her perfectly beat face with blended shades of mocha brown, tawny and umber. I saw how pronounced her cheek bones were that's why we looked either at each other through side vision or at something on her walls but not her unless she commanded us to do so and at the moment her lover lip was curled in and she was shaking her head while tapping both hands on her desk in addition to her healed foot.

"So, you two want to explain this to me?" Omma said before pulling up a recording of Lizzy trying to come for us and us not taking it. Unfortunately, the video didn't show Lizzy purposely bumping into me. It did show her talking ish, me bumping her chest on before that and then Nandi fake sneezing on her.

"Lizzy was trying to come for us again. She's been trying us since the school year started," I said.

"So, Lizzy has a problem with you too? I've heard she's given your teammates a hard time too because she thinks I favor them but why are you the only ones who physically confronted her? Hmm?" Omma asked leaning in on her desk a little.

"She doesn't like us because we are both on the basketball team and your daughters to when she found out…." I let myself trail off. I was not ready to tell our mom, the headmistress of Westbrook about what was growing between me and the son of the school's biggest benefactor.

There was a dead silence in her office. Both Nandi and I looked over her shoulders like our speech teacher told us to do so we wouldn't get nervous about speaking in front of people.

"When had she found out what? Hmm? Look at me. Tell Omma," she commanded as she leaned in a little further.

I was confident that I could hold out during her stare off as long as I pictured things that kept me chill. Nandi on the other hand could break more easily under pressure of Omma's presence and intense stare.

After another minute Omma jerked forward suddenly and Nandi let out a little high-pitched shriek. I thought she was about to get down on her knees and beg for mercy.

Omma took her notepad and started scribbling furiously before saying, "Alright if you won't tell me what's going on you're going to the counselor's office to deal with your pent-up anger. Oh, and another thing, you're suspended from two practices."

"Omma, are you serious?!" I exclaimed.

"Ok now, you better watch your tone of voice with me," she said with her lower lip curled to the point of looking like her jowls were protruding. She snatched off the two pieces of paper from her notepad and handed them to us. Then she pointed to the door with one bawled fist on her hip.

Mr. Schultz was a mousy man with a nasaly voice. He didn't have a commanding presence about him like Omma did. He was more of an annoyance because we were both sure that he was going to have to report progress to Omma and that was how she was going to get to the bottom of it.

On our way to the office, we promised each other to not say anything about Lucas and what Lizzy was trying to instigate. I had to talk to Lucas first before getting everything in order. The last thing he and I wanted was for Emma to get hurt or a wedge to be made in the team, which became another issue of letting coach Koryn know we had been suspended by our mommy/principal.

Presently in Mr. Schultz's office the walls had pictures of cheesy optimistic sayings with landscapes behind them. There was the smell of a vanilla bean candle that diffused through out the entire room.

He sat at his desk with his thin brown hair. "So, what bring you in here today?" he asked as if he didn't know we were sent there by our Omma as supposed to having gone voluntarily.

Both Nandi and I just stared back at him for some seconds. We decided we would clown around a bit.

"Your mother seems to be a bit concerned about how you're getting on with your teachers and classmates," he said with a leading tone waiting for us to reply.

I put on a confused look on my face and asked, "Could you repeat that last part please?"

"Ummhh how you're getting on with your teachers and classmates," he said with a perplexed voice.

Nandi and I looked at each other and shrugged like we didn't understand what he was saying.

"It sounds like he said bleachers and glass plates," I said in a British accent.

"Sounds 'bout right. Right as rain," Nandi said back in her British voice.

"More like clear as mud," I continued.

Poor Mr. Schutz looked crumpled and helpless as he said, "Guys please. This is my job I need to make this time productive.

We stopped with our accents looked at him straight faced.

"We all know that we're here because our Omma dragged us here," I said, frankly.

"What does Omma mean?" he asked.

"It means mother in Korean," Nandi said informatively.

"Your father is Korean? That's seems to be a very different culture than your mother's. Have you been to Korea?" he asked.

"A few times as a family to see some of Appa's extended family members," Nandi answered.

"How was that?" he asked.

"People stared at us and Omma. They made comments about our Appa when they saw him holding her hand and cuddling her. They looked at us like we were a novelty act," I said truthfully.

"Some people tried to take pictures of our family without our permission," Nandi said with concern.

"Hmm that sounds hard," Mr. Schultz said leaning in.

"Yeah, over there to see us was to see a unicorn. Here people sometimes have comments but it's more common to meet multi-racial people," I said explaining this to a middle-aged White man.

"How does that make you feel that people are gawking at you?" he asked.

"Just peachy," I said sarcastically.

"Self-conscious, like an island actually," Nandi confused.

"Kinda how some people treat you here? They treat you like an "other"? Not like everyone else?" he asked with a leading voice.

"Exactly! We're not pompous. We don't try to act like we're the boss of everyone. But they assume we get special perks and get mad at us when our Omma disciplines them," I said.

"Do you think you're a scapegoat or a way to get back at your mother?" he asked with a concerned voice.

"Probably," Nandi said.

"Without a doubt and it's not cool that we have this extra thing against us in addition to people hating on the team," I said.

Mr. Schultz wrote down in his notepad attentively like he didn't want to forget one single detail that we told him.

Even though Omma made the session in a sneaky attempt to get into our business, it felt cathartic to have someone listen to us without bias. Not that Mr. Schultz was special but for the first time it felt that our feelings mattered.

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