Chapter Twenty
Stryder
The second championship game came and went in a blur. This time, we had lost to the Freshwood Fighters.
I went back to my car to find my dad waiting for me with a furious look on his face because I hadn’t done so well. I tuned him out, just letting him finish his usual litany. But when he mentioned Tasha, I snapped back to attention.
“That woman’s really no good for you! Good riddance!” he yelled.
“Leave her out of this,” I suddenly snapped, which made him straighten up and pay attention. He had a retort ready, of course, but I saw him hesitate.
I wanted to tell him off then, but it would be a waste of time and energy. Instead, I got into my car and muttered a goodbye without letting him finish. I drove off without another word.
As I drove aimlessly around the city, my mind wandered to Tasha, wondering how she was. My pride had gotten in the way, forcing me to remain silent for the past week and not even bothering to contact her after our bad breakup.
A few days after that moment in the alley, I’d actually begun to realize that maybe I’d been wrong to blow it all out of proportion. But then, it only meant that someone of her caliber didn’t deserve a jerk like me. I was wrong to think I was ready to give commitment a go, because I’d been bottling up my feelings about her actions in the past until the last straw had triggered my anger.
Despite the voices battling in my head, I found myself stopping by her apartment. After knocking on the door several times and not getting an answer, I felt dejected. I tried her phone, but there was also no answer. I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to see me anymore. Yet a part of me was determined to find her. I needed to see her and straighten out things, at least sit down and have a serious talk before we make a final decision about us.
I’d finally given up on hearing from her when her neighbor came out and saw me. “Hey, are you looking for Tasha Rodriguez?” the elderly woman asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, she left yesterday, carrying a lot of bags with her,” the woman explained. “A tall, handsome guy came by to pick her up.” Leaning forward, she even added, “I think they’re going to elope.”
My heart began to pound harder and faster. “Do you have any idea where they went?” I asked hopefully.
“You know, I actually asked her before they left. She said they’re going to London.”
“London?! Are you sure you heard right?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. She even told me she was excited to see the Big Ben.”
“So you think she’s never coming back?” I asked, my heart sinking fast to the ground.
“Yeah, the landlady said she’s gone for good.”
I could feel the whole world suddenly crashing down on me. I muttered a “thanks” as I forced myself to go back to my car. Once inside, in the privacy of my vehicle, I felt my arms trembling and my shoulders shaking. I wasn’t crying, but my whole body was a mixture of hot and cold. I didn’t know what to think except that I was so damn stupid to have let her go a second time. And this time, I don’t think I’ll ever get her back again.
In a few minutes, I was at The Den, drowning my sorrows in beer. The waitress who had been flirting with me during the party after our first championship game came on to me again. But I was certainly not in the mood. All I could think of was Tasha running away to London with some unknown guy. Could it be Brad? Or perhaps that stuntman called Corky?
It was like I was trapped in a nightmare and there was no escape.
The minutes passed without me noticing the time. It was dark outside, so I knew it was night time. For the nth time, I checked the usual social media to get a clue as to what has been happening to Tasha. Had she really gone out of the country already? Maybe it wasn’t too late yet to win her back again. All sorts of thoughts and feelings were churning within me, and I could feel it all taking a toll on my sanity.
There were no clues whatsoever that I could find online. Her last post was of us still happy together. It was like she’d just suddenly gone.
I wanted to lash out as well as virtually drown and disappear. I was already on my fourth or fifth bottle of beer, feeling a bit tipsy, when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. My heart began to race.
“Hello?” I said, hoping to hear Tasha’s voice on the other end.
It was a woman’s voice that greeted me, but it wasn’t Tasha’s. This one sounded friendly but professional. “Hi, Mr. Stryder Cooper?”
“Yes, speaking…” I sort of slurred, my vision blurring as my eyes focused on the bottle of beer in my hand. “Who’s this?”
There was a slight pause before she continued. “My name is Anna Wilkins from Shutter Magazine. I’m calling to inform you that your close-up photograph of the bug had won the most votes from our readers and followers online…”
“Wow, really,” I murmured, my mind sharpening just a little bit. This was probably good news. At least there was still something to rejoice about on this dreary day.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “This means that you’ve won First Place in our Photography Contest this year, and you can claim your prize within the week.”
“Prize?” I asked incredulously. “What did I win—a new lens? Or maybe a tripod?”
“Uh, no, sir,” she replied, seeming to be startled that I wasn’t even aware of the grand prize.
“Our grand prize is a two-year scholarship grant at London Academy of Photography, the most prestigious photography school in the entire continent of Europe.”
My mouth dropped open. “Did you just say London?” I wasn’t even as interested in the grant as much as in having the chance to go after the woman I deeply cared about. Now it was fast dawning on me that I wanted her back in my life—very badly. For good.
“Yes, London,” the woman confirmed. “You might want to visit our office to get the full details on how you can avail this scholarship grant. We’ll explain everything to you, and you can decide when you’d like to leave.”
“Wow,” I murmured under my breath. The prospect of just jumping onto the next plane going to London was very, very tempting. A ton of possibilities awaited me there. New windows were opening.
I immediately got their office address and scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. It was just a meeting, after all. I haven’t decided yet. There were still plenty of things to consider. For one, my football career was at stake. And second, there was the issue of my dad. He might never forgive me for this.