“Why bother with all that training? Staring is free.”
We’re sitting in the back of the portable bleachers, coats on against the stiff wind that feels like it’s blowing straight off the Antarctic all this week.
For the past fortnight, Seb and I have grown closer. We now spend at least part of each night in bed, learning each other’s bodies, our likes and dislikes. Talking into the early hours, swapping our small confessions.
But this is the first time I’ve been out to watch him practice. Even without a deep understanding of the game, it’s enjoyable to watch him performing at a sport he’s obviously good at.
When sprints are finished, the team pull a scrum machine onto the practice field, taking turns at formations, pushing against the padded arms until they force it back, then resetting it at higher levels to try again.
“Do you want to know an even better sight?” Rowena asks as the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the grounds. “The changing rooms.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say, eagerly following in her footsteps as she leads the way into the back of the gym, checking it’s empty before she tries the changing room door.
“It’s locked.” From her voice, I’d guess this wasn’t anywhere near the top of her list of things that could happen. “How dare they? It’s like they don’t trust us.”
“Stand aside.” I stare at the keypad, trying to channel the brain of Coach Welter and failing. I punch in one-one-one-one just in case, then screw up my face when it beeps in failure.
“What’s next?” Rowena sniggers. “Password?”
“If you can spell that out with numbers, go ahead.” I wave at the door, but she shakes her head, collapsing on the bench behind her in dramatic fashion instead.
“Sooooo,” she drawls, giving me a long dose of side eye as I take a seat beside her.
“Mm?”
“You and Seb seem to be getting on better.”
That’s one word for it. My stomach flutters thinking about the night he caught me cutting. About how we’ve spent most nights since.
The difference between late night texts and late-night visitations is quite extraordinary. I hope we never have to go backwards because the loss would be far too extreme.
“Better than our first night at the party, you mean?”
She sniggers, bumping her shoulder against mine. “I should hope so. Except, you know I haven’t watched it, I’m going solely by other people’s recommendations.”
The thought a video of me is circulating unchecked throughout the school still does a number on my nervous system. I dread the day Seb gets dropped back a year and stops being my escort to every class.
No matter what relaxation exercises I try, the sensation that eyes are watching me never leaves. If it weren’t for him and Rowena, I’d still be curled in my bathroom, cutting myself into smaller and smaller pieces.
“Yes,” I say now, though her question didn’t sound like it needed an answer. “We’re doing better.”
“Better enough that you’re ready to tell me your gruesome history?”
Gareth must have spread the word because I haven’t mentioned knowing Seb to her. Rowena first hinted around the matter last week, then again, a few days ago. Now, she stares at me with an expression that suggests she won’t be so easy to put off this time.
A long sigh escapes my lips before I’m even aware of it. “There’s not a lot to tell, really. We went to the same school for ages. Then I came here.”
“And he followed you.”
“He didn’t follow me,” I retort as the tips of my ears turn bright red. “He earned a scholarship to an elite school. If it had been located a million miles from where I was attending, he would’ve taken up the offer. It had nothing to do with me.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Yes, that’s right. Mm-hm.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“Mm-hm.”
