I order our coffees, and we make our way to one of the tables. I desperately want to talk to her about us, about what she wants, what I want, but I don’t want to push my luck. For this brief moment, I have her back, and I’m not going to fuck it up. I just need to know that she’s all in, and we can face Zayden’s reaction together as a united front. I don’t want to hurt anyone any more than I already have.
‘Zayden told me you’ve started dancing,’ I say once we’re both seated.
‘Yeah, with Cami and Nora. It’s pretty intense, but it’s fun.’
Thinking about what we just did, and now picturing her in minimal clothing, dancing sensually in a dimly lit room, I have to adjust myself in my pants. Anya sips her coffee and eyes me for a moment, enjoying my obvious discomfort.
‘Something wrong?’ she asks innocently.
‘No,’ I grunt. ‘Just ... enjoying the visual in my head.’
Her smile widens. ‘I see.’
‘You think I might get to see some of your moves one day?’ I can’t help but ask, my blood thickening as the pressure in my body increases.
‘Maybe,’ she replies coyly. ‘If you’re lucky.’
After what happened earlier today with Anya, and now with the intensity of this practice, I feel riled up and on edge.
‘Again!’ Coach Kennedy shouts, bits of spit spraying from his mouth and landing on the poor sucker who managed to stand a little too close. Gav grimaces, but doesn’t dare wipe his face until Coach blows his whistle, turning his back on us.
I sprint hard across the field. When I get to the line, I bend down, touching my hand to it, before propelling myself back in the other direction. My lungs are on fire as I slow down. My feet have barely touched the line when the whistle pierces the crisp air.
‘Again!’ he yells.
‘Who pissed in his cereal this morning?’ Zayden mutters as a collective groan spreads throughout the team.
I don’t have the breath or energy to reply. With my head down, I push forward, knowing that the more we complain, the worse it will get. He’s been especially hard on us this week as the first game is on Friday, and everyone is feeling the tension and nerves.
We have a strong team, since anyone above eighteen can be part of it, meaning Coach can select from all the most powerful and athletic players. We have some in their mid-twenties who are strong and equipped for defence, as well as some younger late teens who are lean and quick on their feet. Half of us – more specifically Zayden and me – fall in the middle of the two groups, possessing a good mixture of both qualities. As strong as some of the players are, the team still needs to improve on working together – knowing where our teammates are and what they are doing. We’ll get there, it’s just going to take a bit of time.
What feels like an eon later, Coach eases on us, letting us spend the final ten minutes passing back and forth. My heart rate finally slows, and the ache in my chest begins to ease. When he finally calls an end to practice, relief ripples through me in warm waves. Zayden and I partner off to start our end-of-practice stretching routine. My eyes sting and my body aches as I try to relieve some of the knots in my muscles.
When we walk into the locker room, everyone is covered in a layer of sweat and dirt. I peel off my shirt and shoot it into my bag like it’s a basketball. Zayden is the first one to beeline towards the showers. He’s barely disappeared around the corner when Andy turns to face Kai, wiggling his eyebrows.
‘Update on banging his sister?’ He grins, and my stomach clenches in an iron fist. Anger circles deep in my gut at the mention of the stupid bet Kai has on sleeping with Anya before the first game.
Kai glances over at me, his notorious smirk smeared across his face. ‘It’s a work in progress.’
Calmly, I gather my towel and other necessities before I head towards the shower. I ram my elbow into Kai on my way past, and he slams back into the metal lockers with a bang that thunders through the room. Everyone glances over as Kai struggles to gain his footing.
‘Watch it,’ I threaten, narrowing my eyes into slits and swinging my glower to Andy. He steps back out of my way as I walk past, not looking back.
My head is still mulling over what happened yesterday when I arrive at the local bookshop. It’s Anya’s favourite place. It stocks all the latest and greatest in fiction, but also has an entire attic full of second-hand books. With a coffee shop tucked around the corner at the back, it makes the perfect place for studying, since the library can get crowded. When I suggested meeting here for a coffee and to study, I thought Anya would either not reply or blow me off, so when she replied instantly, agreeing, I was shocked. Especially after what happened between us yesterday.
I linger at the door, taking in a deep breath and working on keeping my heart rate steady. Growing up with my father, I always experienced anxiety. It’s been ever-present, though growing stronger the older I get, but it’s always been manageable. Since the attack I endured overseas, however, the anxiety has settled deep in my bones, burrowing itself so deep inside me, it’s threatening to take over. I know I should do something about it, seek help, but I don’t want to acknowledge it or give it any more power over me. I’m trying to get better control over it, it’s just harder than I expected it to be.
It’s been a long day: my morning run, classes and gruelling training, but when I see her, the pressure on my chest lifts. Tucked into a corner booth with her legs folded beneath her, she scribbles something down in her notebook, eyes on the textbook in front of her.
It’s dimly-lit inside, and the smell of books washes over me. Candles burn and flicker as I pass, making my way through the gathered groups of people and over to Anya. Sticking her pen behind her ear, she taps on her phone, as if checking the time. Probably because I’m a few minutes late.
‘Hey, Blush,’ I say.
She jerks her head up, not having heard me approach the table. Her dark bangs fall across her face, and she flicks them out of the way. A warm smile lights up her expression and I smile back, relaxing my shoulders when I see that her eyes don’t hold the hostility they have recently.
‘Hi, Mase.’
‘Have you ordered anything yet?’ I ask, shrugging off my bag and sliding it across the leather seat.
