‘Who would be coming by unannounced at this time of the night?’he growls, pushing back the chair so forcefully it scrapes against the floor loudly.He marches towards the door and Michelle follows him, leaving me and my stepsiblings at the table.
Thankfully, their attention has been turned to whoever is here, and I let my shoulders sag in relief.I glance over at the door as it opens, see one of their neighbours standing there and overhear something about a lost dog.Using this as my chance to make a hasty exit, I mutter something about early classes and they hardly spare me a glance as I slip past them through the door and practically sprint to my car.I collapse into the driver’s seat, feeling fatigued.Every encounter I have with them – no matter how big or small – seems to leave me drained, like I need a good night’s sleep to recover after.
I’m sure a lot of people have it worse than me, and I need to remind myself of this.
There’s loud laughter echoing down the stairway as I mount the stairs to my off-campus dorm.I smile up at the group coming towards me but they walk straight past, leaving behind a cloud and the potent scent of weed.Sighing, I head for my door and swipe my card.If it wasn’t for Anya approaching me on one of my first days here, I honestly don’t know if I would have any friends.Everyone here already has their own cliques and won’t welcome anyone new into the group.Thank goodness for Anya and Cami, truly.
The apartment is cosy, with five of us all sharing one bathroom and one kitchen.My preference was for just one roommate, but there were no apartments of that size available by the time I sent in my application.
Emily and Steph have formed a partnership, and I’m half-convinced they’ve bonded over their dislike of me.They either stick their noses up at me and make passive aggressive comments or pretend I don’t exist – there’s no in-between.The other roommate, Riley, mostly keeps to herself.I never know whether she is here or out, because she’s as quiet as a mouse and stays in her room whenever she’s home.I get along best with Riley, though.I feel like she is a kindred spirit among the chaos.We’ve been able to spend a bit of time together, which has made the house feel a little less lonely.There was Cami, of course, my one and only source of peace in this place, but she moved out abruptly – I didn’t want to pry but I think money was tight – so now we’re waiting for our next roommate to turn up.
I scan the piles of shoes kicked to the side, then the dirty plates and glasses piled on the kitchen bench.The pile is growing, since it hasn’t been dealt with for three days.There won’t be any clean plates left at this point.I try my best to ignore it, but I always end up the one cleaning up, even though I try my hardest not to eat any of my meals here.Staying out of everyone’s way is thebest coping mechanism I’ve found.I really miss Cami.Of course, Emily and Steph shower Cami with compliments and attention whenever they see her.She’s pretty, popular and a cheerleader.Of course they want her as a friend.Riley is helpful when she is here, and we have exchanged a few eye rolls whenever the others say or do something that sounds absolutely ridiculous, but I don’t feel like we have advanced to hanging out yet, although I wouldn’t be opposed to it.
The sound of music drifts from behind one of the closed doors, and I hear some girls giggling.Emily and Steph, I’m assuming, and whoever else they’ve invited over.They’re probably doing something that involves high-end outfits and bottles of alcohol.Quite a few times already, I’ve come home to strangers hanging out in the small lounge room and empty bottles spread throughout it.
Stepping into my room, I shut the door behind me, leaning onto it for a moment.This place isn’t exactly ideal, but it was the best option I had at the time.It’s close to the Stratton University campus, meaning I can walk to and from classes, and I like that the university hosts social gatherings often.Not that I’ve had the chance to go to many yet, but I’m hoping to do so now that I have Anya and Cami to go with.With Anya’s painting classes outside of school time and Cami’s work and dance schedule, it can be hard for us to lock in a time when we are all free, but we seem to make it work.
Kicking off my shoes, I throw my hair into a messy knot on the top of my head.I peel off my clothes and replace them with something more comfortable.Swiping my laptop from my desk, I fall back onto my bed, folding my legs in front of me.
Settling into my pillows, I pull up my latest draft.Writing is my escape.I love to get lost in the world of fiction, travelling to an alternate reality where anything can happen.I have been writing for a long time.I started when I was a young girl andwould scribble words onto any spare piece of paper that I found.My writing went from lyrics, to poems, to short stories, eventually developing into full-length novels.
Now I’m a bestselling author, and no one knows a thing about it.
I wrote a book and posted it online completely anonymously to get feedback from people since I was too afraid to ask anyone in my real life to read it.It seemed easier to ask someone who has no idea who I am and knows nothing about my life.
The next thing I knew, reader numbers were climbing.Messages flooded my inbox, and comments piled up in my notifications from people demanding the next instalment.Then, agents came into it, and publishing deals.Now my book is a worldwide sensation.I mean, my two best friends know, but most people in my life don’t.It’s surreal to see my work in people’s hands around campus, online, and in stores.I’m most well-known for my series Halos and Heathens.It’s a spicy, dark, supernatural romance fantasy series.What started out as a random daydream has somehow turned into a book that has midnight release parties, publicists shooting through emails and a new offer around the corner each week.I had to hire an online personal assistant just to keep up with the messages and admin.The fact that I have a whole publishing team – marketing, publicity, sales, a personal assistant – and an international fanbase is honestly crazy.I feel like it happened over night.
My family often gives me a hard time about my Creative Writing degree.I’m majoring in creative writing and editing, which they view as a ‘useless degree that will lead to an unreliable job and not provide me financial security in the future’ – direct quote.A small smile twitches at the corner of my mouth.Little do they know, I have enough in my account to buy myself a house and still be comfortable.I’ve also just sold the rights forthe movie adaptation, and they already have two A-list celebrities in talks for the roles.Sometimes I pinch myself because it doesn’t seem real.
I’ve never had a lot of money.I worked from a young age and was responsible for my own finances early on.In fact, most things were often a struggle growing up.It’s kind of crazy how much has changed, and how quickly.
Closing the manuscript, I go into my emails and open up the last one from my editor.I stare at it, gnawing my lip.I’m working on a new series at the moment.This one is a bit more mature and different from my previous work – more dark, forbidden romance than fantasy.The feedback from the team was super positive, except for one thing: the sex scenes.Apparently, they’re not quite up to scratch, even though that’s what I’m known for in my other series.I garnered inspiration from books and movies I’d read and filled in the rest with my own imagination.Somehow, I made it work, but my lack of expertise seems to be showing now.
They want more passion, more description, a bit more fire.It’s a little hard to bring the heat when I’m having none of that myself … in fact, I’ve unfortunately only had one sexual encounter to use as any sort of inspiration, and it was one of the most awkward events of my life.One I’d rather not revisit.This is not something I care to admit to anyone, let alone a team of people.
Groaning, I close my laptop and lean back into my pillows.
The time has come.
Looks like I’m about to delve into the world of online dating …
2
ZAYDEN
THE BALL LANDS INmy hands and I propel myself down the field.Noticing Mason Jameson out of the corner of my eye, I pass him the ball before being tackled to the ground.Rolling back onto my feet, I drag my hand through my sweat-drenched hair, breathing hard.The heat of the sun and the intensity of this training has sweat pouring down my face.I squint after Mason’s retreating form as he runs, sliding belly-first over the tryline.
I glance to the sideline where Coach Kennedy stands with his hands on his hips, jaw set in the defiant clench it’s always in.His face remains stoic as he nods – that’s all the approval I need.Mason and I have mastered that play to the point where we could do it with our eyes closed.Mase is one of those guys who only needs to see something once to get it.I have never been like that, but I’ve learnt so much from him.He’s made me into the player I am today.
Mason strolls back from the tryline, breathless.My lips curve upwards as we exchange a brief glance of acknowledgement.Our team knows how we play, yet we still manage to outrun and outsmart them.We work together like a well-oiled machine.It’s the kind of teamwork that can only come from knowing the other person completely inside and out after a decade of playing together.I know Mason’s moves and what he’s thinking, and he can say the same for me.
Last year when he was travelling, I realised how much I rely on him.Since he’s returned, we’ve fallen into old habits very quickly.It’s hard not to, when winning is the goal and I know we’ll win if we do our plays together.Our drive and energy are unmatched on the field.
‘Good,’ Coach says, adjusting his cap as he strides over to us.‘You’ve both proven time and time again that you can get through any defence, even with players who know how you both work, but you might not always have each other to secure the win.You need to utilise all your players.’Coach’s gaze connects with mine, and it’s as if he has just read my mind.‘You should know that from last season, Zayden.’
I hate the thought of that.Football wouldn’t be the same without Mason – it wasn’t – but I know Coach means if one of us is sick, away or injured, which is always a high possibility when it comes to this kind of sport.We have always had this feedback, no matter what team we play for.They all say it, and I’m aware that we don’t use the whole team enough, but Mason is quick, reliable, and I know he’ll get us the try every time.
‘Switch out,’ Coach grunts, gesturing to me.‘You and Mase aren’t to play on the same side for the next few training sessions.I want you to focus on building a similar style of attack with the other players.’
