Tristin entered the house, hearing the TV in the background. "Grandma, I'm home!" he called out as soon as he stepped inside.
"In here, Tristin," a pleasing voice sounded from the living room, mingling with the TV voices.
He followed the voice to the living room.
"I didn't cook dinner, but I brought pizza. Help yourself," she said, taking a bite from a slice.
"Thanks, Grandma. How was your day at the mall?" he asked, grabbing two slices for himself.
"It was fun. I shopped with Emma before her shift at the supermarket. She went on and on about how kind and handsome you are. I think she has a thing for you. Plus, she's at the right age to give birth. Why don't you ask her out?" Grandma suggested, her eyes glowing.
"Grandma, please stop playing matchmaker. I'm too young to be a father anyway." He took a bite and rolled his eyes.
She put down the slice and looked at Tristin, her eyebrows raised. "You don't have to worry. I'll look after the baby. Since I'm retired now, I have more time on my hands."
Tristin sighed and looked at the wooden floor as he sat on the white corner couch, dangling his hand as if trying to touch the floor. "Grandma," he said slowly, "I understand your need to grow the bloodline, but now is not the right time."
Grandma leaned back on the white single couch, looking at the ceiling. "I used to say that to your grandpa when he wanted a second child. He died before getting his wish. I raised your mother alone. She had you, and now she's gone too. Your father's story is even sadder; he didn't know his real parents and only had one foster brother."
"Grandma, I really do understand your point, but think," he paused and sat up straight. "I will be turning 18 in about nine months."
"What does that have to do with having a baby? Do you know the statistics of teenage pregnancy in this country?" she asked, frowning.
"It's not about whether I can get a girl pregnant. It's about the reasons my uncle has kept me alive. If I mysteriously die, the world will know he was the one who killed me. That accident was supposed to kill all three of us." His hands clenched together.
"So, since you still hold the shares of your father's company, when you turn 18 and become a legal adult, he would have to give control of the company to you," Grandma stated.
"Yes, but from what he's done to get where he is, he won't just give up like that," Tristin reminded her, pointing his finger up and down.
"Oh, you're afraid he will act soon. If he succeeds this time and finds out you have a child, he will go after the child too. Would he really be that ruthless?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Cruelty knows no bounds. Once someone starts down that path, it's almost impossible to get off," he stated as he stood up. "I feel lightheaded for some reason. Maybe it's because I've talked too much about my uncle," he said, frowning.
"Go and lie down. I'm still watching. Don't let that scumbag stop you from having a child. You are much stronger, Tristin. Believe that," she said, pointing at him with a slice of pizza.
"Thanks, Grandma. I'm heading up. Goodnight," he said as he went to his room.
The next day, Tristin did his morning routine and went to school.
Tristin parked his Ferrari and walked to the main gate. "The mood sure feels different today. Have they already gotten used to me that fast? Where are the screams and shy waves from the girls?" he wondered, looking around.
"Some people are sure lucky, huh?" a guy said as he saw Tristin walking to the main gate.
"Tell me about it, bro. Just saving a little girl from being hit by a car, then getting rewarded with a Ferrari? I don't think I could get that lucky," another guy responded.
Wherever Tristin passed a group of students, such whispers followed.
"But you've got to admit, he looks dashing in that Ferrari. Even if he didn't buy it, I can't help imagining myself riding with such a dashing guy," a girl said, shaking her body, her hands on her cheeks.
"Don't forget to imagine yourself pushing the Ferrari when he runs out of gas. Retired nurses only get minimum wage from the government. I'm sure he has enough gas for school and to return home," the girl next to her snorted.
Tristin scanned his student ID, unaware that Sipho, Thomas's minion, had posted his fake background to the school page.
With his backpack strapped only on his left shoulder, Tristin walked to class. "Should I just listen or wait for Lerato or Max to tell me what's going on?" he wondered, his right hand on his chin and his left on his backpack strap. "I could focus the qi energy in my body to my ears and get all the info I need, but…" he paused, holding his head. "Why do I feel so lightheaded all of a sudden?" he asked himself as he pushed open the classroom door.
He entered, thankful his desk was in the row next to the door, second from the back. Using the desks for support, he thought, "If what's happening to me now is like what happened last night, this might be troublesome." He said as he threw himself into his chair.
A few students in the class noticed Tristin sweating and assumed the news on the school page must be affecting him, but they were wrong.