Chapter Three – Bryn

“Urgh, Coach is really riding my ass today!” James complains to me. He’s starting to become a real whiner, which is terribly annoying. “Did you see him out there? He picked on my every fault like I’m the only one making mistakes. It’s as if he didn’t even notice when Luis blatantly broke the dribbling rule. Why is it always me?”

Because you’re clearly hungover today, I think, bemused. Because half the time, you aren’t even trying. Because the story of you and that girl from reality TV hit the headlines this morning… that might be why!

But there’s no point in saying any of that. James simply doesn’t see it. He doesn’t think that there’s anything wrong with his behavior at all. It’s all everyone else’s fault. If people would just stop being mean to him…

“Oh man, you are in trouble!” Andrew interrupts, thankfully before I have to think of some sort of answer. “Tia is flaming at the ears because of you. It’s hilarious. You should hear her spitting out fires because of you.”

James clutches his chest innocently. “But what did I do? How the hell have I pissed her off again?”

“You know what she’s like. I warned you not to screw her but you went ahead and did it anyway…”

“Because she’s crazy,” James answers, like that’s a defense. “We all know what crazy chicks are like in bed. They’re wild. How am I supposed to resist that? I just one man. A hot blooded, weak male.”

“Yeah well now every single time your eye is turned by someone else, she’s going to flip out.”

Again, James makes a sound like the whole world is against him. I find that attitude very tiresome, so I turn my head and I glance to where all the cheerleaders are gathered at the end of the court. Some of them are huddled together like a gaggle of witches, plotting their spell to get revenge on James. Personally, I hope they do something to make his hair all fall out. I don’t know if he’ll be so confident without his curls.

But my eyes don’t stay on Tia and her gang for long, they’re attracted to the lone girl standing at the side, stretching out her muscles. Like me, she seems to be the only one taking it seriously, but that isn’t why I can’t stop looking. Ever since I saw her last, she’s been in the back of my mind, creeping on my thoughts. I don’t even know her and she’s weirdly impacted on me. The moment someone banged into me and I dragged my eyes off the ground to see those gorgeous gray blue eyes, I felt the foundation of the world shift underneath me. I was almost knocked off my feet, I felt like my lungs were being squeezed, emotions spiraled right through me. For a moment, I didn’t feel like myself at all. It was almost as if I was floating high, lost in only her.

I haven’t noticed a woman for far too long, for as long as I can remember, but she demanded my attention. With her curved hips, her plump red lips, and the sweetest smile that I’ve ever seen, I was hooked. Even my dad noticed that I had something on my mind, not that I told him what. He would’ve jumped on it if he thought that I was interested in someone. I’m sure he wants me to meet someone, I bet he believes that will make me happy.

Even as I look at Rebekah now, I feel intoxicated by her in a very dangerous way. I can’t like her, my rule of life isn’t going to change because I’ve seen a pretty face, but I still can’t seem to drag my gaze off her.

There’s something about her, I realize, something that goes much deeper than beauty.

Almost as if she can sense my eyes boing into her, Rebekah tilts her head to look at me and her expression bursts into a wide genuine smile. She lifts up one hand to wave it to me and my heart stops dead in my chest as she does. I feel like a crazy teen with a wild out of control crush. I can almost feel the hormones racing around my system with the adrenaline. There’s something about connecting with Rebekah that makes me feel alive.

This is how guys end up distracted. I force my eyes downwards, smashing the connection before it consumes me. I cannot, under any circumstances, become the guy who foolishly loses his focus at the very last moment. My career is on an upswing. I don’t want to destroy that. She’s pretty, but not worth losing everything for.

But of course, however hard I try I can’t keep away from her for long. My eyes fly upwards just as her lips curl down into a frown and she returns to stretching out her body, making it even harder for me to keep my thoughts on straight. I can almost feel my brain spinning and turning into jelly at the mere sight of her.

“She’s something else, right?” James drools over her. “And I’m going to be the one taking her home tonight.”

“What?” I snap back, letting some of the bitter nasty snake of jealousy out. “What about last night?” James turns and gives me a blank look. “You know, the woman that you were with last night? And Tia?”

“But I’ve already had sex with them.” He furrows his eyebrows in actual confusion. “I haven’t had her.”

“Rebekah.” What am I even doing? I’m acting like a crazed boyfriend! “Her name is Rebekah.”

I can’t have her, even if I like her she isn’t going to be mine, so why do I care who she hooks up with? I don’t. I don’t care, I can’t. Like I just told myself, my career is in a good place and I don’t want to screw that up. So, there’s absolutely no reason at all for my fists to be balling up at my sides or my temper to be bubbling so hotly.

“Oh, whatever.” James nudges me as if I’m in on the joke. “I only need to know for tonight, don’t I?”

I shake him off me and turn to glare at him. I know this isn’t like me at all, I’m much better at keeping my emotions inside and allowing them to corrode my organs, but today I have to say something. “Do you really think it’s nice to talk about women like that? They deserve way more respect than you give. It’s gross.”

James’ eyes darken and I’m immediately struck by the sense that I might have taken it too far. All the anger that burned in my system only moments before dissipates into nothing and my emotions recoil. What the hell am I doing? Why am I defending someone who isn’t even anything to do with me? We had a short conversation, nothing more. Just because I felt something doesn’t mean she did. Maybe she wants to sleep with James.

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately. “I don’t know what I’m on about, I’m just… stressed out.”

James’ shoulders roll forwards as he accepts my apology. Maybe because he doesn’t know where it came from he isn’t sure how else to react. “It doesn’t matter. I guess we all are and you do have a lot of pressure.”

“Mmm, sure.” Those words cause discomfort in me. I haven’t been focused enough on the pressure over the last couple of days. “I guess I let it get to me and I’m really sorry about it. Won’t happen again.”

I turn from James, effectively ending the conversation for us and I act like I’m stretching my own body out. I need to push Rebekah away until she’s the furthest thing from my mind so she doesn’t wreck this for me. Maybe she should sleep with James because then I’ll be put off her. I can’t let her get under my skin.

I hear everyone else talk about yet another night out, and this one seems to include the cheerleaders. For the first time ever, I’m tempted to go out with them just to see what goes down, but there will always be the temptation that I’ll let something transpire between me and Rebekah… if she wants it to. I’m going to have to keep my head in the game and whatever’s going to happen, let it happen. It’s really none of my business.

No, I tell myself firmly. Focus on rest, on plays, on training. Sweat it out in the gym. Do something productive rather than chasing someone who is probably way out of my league anyway. But… what if she sleeps with James? It’ll crush me. No, don’t worry about that. It doesn’t matter. It’s for the best.

But internal arguments don’t make me feel any better, I still feel like she’s slipping through my fingers like grains of sand and I can’t stop myself from clinging onto her however hard I try.

***

“Are you okay?” Dad asks me for what feels like the hundredth time. “You’re all twitchy.”

“No, I’m not,” I shoot back defensively, before realizing how prickly I sound. “I’m just… stressed.”

Dad sighs and I can see him lightly shaking his head out the corner of my eye. “You do put the pressure on yourself, Son. I do wish you wouldn’t. You’re only twenty four years of age. You should be happier.”

“I am happy, Dad. I’m doing my dream job, remember?” I hate the way he acts like this isn’t something I want. I was the kid with the NBA posters in my room as a kid, dreaming that I could be on one of them, and now I am. Well, I don’t know if I’m literally on a poster yet, but I’m on the team. “It’s just so close to finals.”

“What you need is to blow off some steam,” he tells me, as if he completely understands. “It’s no good sitting around here with me every night. You should be out there having some fun with the rest of them.”

I squeeze my fists in anger. If I don’t come here, then Dad will be lonely. He works from home on his own, I’m his only human interaction. Why can’t he see that I’m here for him? “Maybe I will.”

Dad gives me a long side look which I chose to ignore. I push myself into a standing position, acting like I might actually head out but we both know that I’m going for a late night session at the gym, then off to my own large, much too empty apartment. I can pretend, but Dad knows me.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t like having you around, Bryn, I just… I don’t see any happiness in you.” He waves his hand emphatically. “I don’t want you to get your dream but sacrifice everything else along the way.”

I stare Dad in the eye, almost glaring at him. “You didn’t sacrifice to get your dream, you sacrificed for me, and that’s why you didn’t get it. I don’t want to end up missing out like you did.”

I don’t even know where that came from and I feel immediately guilty as soon as it’s out there, but to my dad’s credit, he doesn’t react. He gives me a long slow nod and accepts my words. Probably because somewhere in that mess of words that were much too nasty for my liking, he knows that I’m right.

“Right,” I say a whole lot quieter while stuffing my hands into my pockets. “I’m off, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, Son, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dad answers me, but it’s as if something has shifted and I can’t quite get it back. God, meeting Rebekah is making me say all sorts of terrible things. She’s a bad influence on me and we aren’t even together!