Chapter Seven – Bryn

“Whitting, Whitting!” someone yells so loudly that I’m shaken from my thoughts. I glance around with bleary eyes, remembering that I’m on the basketball court in the middle of a very important practice session. The one where I’m supposed to be turning everything around for the better. I’m not supposed to be standing dazed and a little confused while I get lost in thoughts about the mess that I’ve made of my life. “What is with you?” My eyes connect with Andrew’s, and it’s safe to say that he isn’t happy. “How are we supposed to practice these plays and get ready for the match if you’re off in fucking space land? Will you pay God damn attention already?”

“S… sorry,” I stammer back, feeling terrible. “It won’t happen again. I’m fully focused now. For sure.”

But as Andrew looks at me I think we both know that isn’t the case. I can’t seem to get my head out my ass for even a second. After what happened the other day, I’ve been like a zombie, unable to focus like a human being, and absolutely everyone has noticed it. My dad is constantly asking me what’s wrong, and my team mates seem to think that I’ve been replaced by an alien or something… which might be close to the truth. I do not have sex with women I barely know like that. Not in public, not for seemingly no reason, that isn’t me at all. I’m not James and I haven’t ever been like that. I was in a trance with Rebekah, and it’s one that I can’t shake off.

I guess it’s lucky that I haven’t seen her since, but that hasn’t been easy. I’ve had to leave practice early every single time, get dressed at the speed of light, and generally walk with my head down so I can’t make eye contact with her. She has some serious power over me and I don’t want to lose control again. I can’t.

“Fucking hell, man, just sort it out, will you?” Andrew shakes his head. “We need to start winning.”

I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know how any of the guys do it actually. How they have girlfriends or women that they like and still manage to keep their focus. I would kill for that kind of stamina right now.

“We need to dominate these zones.” Andrew points around to remind me. “And we need to get it right.”

I nod, dragging my brain back to the court. Coach is watching me like a freaking hawk, I’ve already had one warning, I can’t face another. I have to focus on that basketball that’s dominated my life for a good reason.

All the guys get into position and the whistle is blown. I try to keep my eyes forward, I try to focus on the orange ball, but Rebekah’s face won’t go. Even when I squeeze my eyes shut and I beg her to leave, she’s there, smiling coyly at me, giving me those soft eyes, driving me wilder than I’ve ever gone before…

My God, sex with Rebekah was something else. She was off the scale. Maybe I’ve mostly locked myself from the world, but she isn’t the first woman I’ve ever been with. But she is the first person to make me feel like that. This must be what a drug addict feels like on their first hit, so consumed by it that they can’t think about anything else, that’s why they spend all their efforts, time, and money on going for another. I understand that now.

No, stop thinking about that. I force my bleary eyes to focus. Focus on the game.

My legs are running, I’m automatically acting like I’m a part of the practice, but it’s on autopilot. There’s no effort from me, no real contribution. I’m there in body but not in mind. My brain is off in La La Land. And then, as if my life isn’t complicated enough, my track record of avoidance comes to an abrupt end as the cheerleading squad make their way out to the court to watch us. This happens all the time, it doesn’t usually affect me one bit, but today it has me on edge. This time, I know that she is there, clearly staring at me, and I become a jittery mess. This is exactly why I don’t ever get involved with anything romantic because I knew it wouldn’t work out. My sensible brain knows what it is right to do, but my wild and crazy heart doesn’t want to hear that.

No one else sees the dramatic, earth shattering moment that this is. Since I haven’t confided anything that happened to anyone, no one knows there’s not a chance of me being able to play well now, so practice continues. The other guys run about like normal, the ball is thrown from person to person, but I can’t play the part anymore. When the ball is tossed in my direction, I miss it and drop it. As I try to pick it up, I’m actually shaking like a freaking leaf. I haven’t even met her eyes yet and I’m a puddle on the ground. This isn’t right, this isn’t me.

I try to suck in a calming breath to keep myself going, but I can’t seem to do it. My brain is all over the place, this is a mess, so I make the dumb ass decision to meet her eyes. Just like the second I assumed having sex with Rebekah would get it out of my system, I feel like looking at her and getting that dreaded moment over with will be a good idea. But it isn’t. It really isn’t. She’s staring at me, just like I knew she would be, and my legs almost collapse from underneath me. I’m hit with feelings so hard I almost shatter right in front of her.

Shit, fight of flight sets in, and I can feel flight winning out. Shit, this is horrible.

The world shrinks to nothing. It’s just me and her. I look at Rebekah and she stares at me, we’re fixed in this intense moment of clarity. I realize now that my feelings are something powerful, something that should be explored if I can work up the courage to do so. An image floats in front of my mind of me and her, living this wonderful romantic relationship. I see dates, kisses, a whole lot more sex, then commitment, living together, marriage, babies… in the space of a second, I experience it all, and weirdly I don’t hate it.

But then the ball smacks into the side of my head and I literally do fall to the ground in a heap.

“Whitting!” Fucking hell. Through the sheer pain in my head, I can hear Coach calling me and he seriously doesn’t sound impressed. “This is it now, I am fucking done with you.”

I rub my head, willing the ache to go away, as I push myself into a standing position. My legs hurt, I think I hit the ground hard, so I stagger a little towards Coach. I don’t need to fully see him though, my blurry vision doesn’t need to clear, for me to know that he’s fuming. He’s so angry at me that he could explode. I haven’t ever seen this side of Coach before, at least not aimed at me, and I have to admit that I’m a little scared.

“Sorry, Coach, I don’t know what came over me…” My voice is gasping in shock.

“I don’t give a shit what happened, I want to know why you keep fucking up!” There’s a burning in his throat, I can hear it spitting out with each and every word. “You promised me that you would do better.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I just need some more time…”

“There is no more time. We have a game this weekend, we’re on the way to the finals.”

I shake my head, frustrated tears burning in the back of my eyes. “I know, I’m sorry, I won’t…”

“No, Bryn, this is too much. Just go and get in the fucking showers, you’re a damn mess.”

I part my lips, ready to argue, but for some reason no words come out. My throat is dry, my mouth is like cotton wool, I have literally nothing. Mostly because I know that Coach is right. I have been fucking up and I did promise to be better. I told him that I would pick things up because the rest of the team relies on me. And how did I repay Coach for giving me a second chance? I screw one of the cheerleaders and mess up more. I’ve become worse than James, I’ve allowed my personal life to affect my career and now I might lose everything. I might not have the success that I so desperately want. I don’t know what I’ll do without basketball, I have nothing.

Eventually, I cave and I turn and walk away with my head hung low. Everyone’s eyes are on me, the team, the cheerleaders, Coach, Rebekah… God, she’s watching me. Not only have I thrown everything away for her but she’s watching my lowest fucking moment. This is utter hell. The worst thing to ever happen to me.

I make my way to the locker room and I force my body into the shower. I’m too morose to really wash myself so I simply stand under the steady hot jets and allow the sweat and shame to wash off of me. That moment was the most humiliating time of my life. I know to other people getting a bit of a bollocking might be nothing, but to me it’s rock bottom. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve never been the sort of person to get in trouble, so this stings me deeply all the way to my core. I mean, Coach might get rid of me now, he might strip me from the team. I could absolutely lose it all. Everything that I’ve worked my ass off for.

I think of Dad as a single tear drips down my cheek. He might not show it, he’ll probably be really sad and disappointed in me. He doesn’t expect it of me, but now I won’t be able to financially support him in the way that I want to. That sucks, I really want to do that for him. I want to give him what he deserves.

Why can’t I just be one of those people who has it all? The career and the personal life? Why do I have to compartmentalize? Maybe it’s because it’s something that I’ve always done. I’ve always had a one track mind and now I don’t know how to be any other way. I don’t know how to open up my life.

I need to end things with Rebekah before they really get started. I need to cut her off now before she gets any funny ideas that we’re ever going to be together. I might like that plan, but I need to shut the door completely so I’m not distracted. At least until we get to the final and we hopefully win it. That’s if Coach agrees to give me another chance, of course. He might turn me away now and never ask me back.

I flick the shower off and step out to wrap a towel around myself with a new determination. I just need to be strong, that’s all. I need to cut things off in my romantic life and focus on my career. It’s what I’ve always done so it really shouldn’t be that difficult at all. I try to smile to myself, to solidify this statement and confirm that I’m going to stick to it. But somehow, my lips struggle to curl upwards. I can’t do it.