6 Scottie
6
Breakfast – Dove Cameron
The weight of embarrassment threatened to swallow me whole. As soon as the seatbelt sign flickered off, I couldn’t control my reflexes. My hand darted up to hit the ‘call assistance’ button. A familiar noise rang around the plane as I straightened, anxiously looking back and forth for an available attendant.
‘What are you doing?’ Nico asked, but I couldn’t bear to face him. Ignoring him was the only option, or else I’d die of sheer mortification. ‘Scottie? Are you okay?’
‘I’m requesting a new seat.’
I could hear the question in his voice, his body shifted, bringing his torso closer to mine. When he spoke again, his voice was low and quiet. ‘Why?’
‘I need to move,’ I hissed.
‘Scottie, it was a graze, it’s fine.’ My brain tried to linger on the way he said my name, his American accent sounding heavier, but I shook it off. I knew for a fact it was more than a graze. I had felt … things. Things that moved. If I had to stay here for a single moment longer, I was going to get up, find the nearest exit, and throw myself out of this plane.
Relief clenched at my chest as the flight attendant wandered over, her face collected and calm. She reached me with a smile, her hand going to the button to turn it off.
‘Hi, how can I help?’
I tried my best to contain my absolute joy at seeing her, the anticipation of being free overwhelming. ‘Hi. I can’t sit here. I need to move. Is there another row I can go to?’
‘I’m sorry you and your husband—’
I shook my head furiously, cutting her off before it went too far. ‘Not husband. Stranger. Just need to move.’
He let out a laugh. ‘I’m offended you’d still describe us as strangers. I thought we had something more.’
I tried my best to resist the temptation to give him a dirty look, and instead, with a calming deep breath, I re-focused on the flight attendant, whose expression was turning more concerned with every second that passed.
‘Is there somewhere else I can sit?’ I asked again, keeping my tone matter of fact.
Her eyes glanced between us before she lowered them, coming closer to me. ‘Is he making you feel unsafe?’
I shook my head. ‘No, no, nothing like that.’ There were a million other things going on between us, but feeling unsafe wasn’t one of them.
He huffed, clearly a little offended. ‘If anything, I should be the one feeling unsafe.’
I closed my eyes, tried to imagine the relaxing beach we were flying toward, trying to find calm before I threw him out of the plane instead. I looked up at the flight attendant and found her eyes narrowed between us. ‘I’m sorry but it’s not procedure to let people move, in case of an emergency—’
‘Told you,’ Nico murmured, my fingers clenching into a frustrated fist.
‘Is there something else I can help you with?’
I shook my head at her, disappointment growing. ‘Nope, I guess not.’
‘Wonderful,’ she said, the polite smile returning to her lips. ‘Have a great flight.’
She turned, leaving Nico and I alone. I sat straight ahead again before slumping down and closing my eyes. This didn’t have to be so bad. I’d touched a penis before. I had done a lot with many penises. I was a certified expert – one quick Google search will tell you that well enough – but for some reason, I could not get past this. Maybe it was because of the way his whispered words sent my skin into goosebumps.
Or maybe, it was that knowing, cocky smirk burning itself into my memory.
‘Are you going to look at me now?’ he asked.
I didn’t dare to glance his way. ‘I can look at you whenever I want.’
‘Sure katsarída, whatever you say.’ His whispered accent rings again. On instinct, I turned to look at him.
Well, that lasted long.
His face was a sunshine glow of smugness, his eyes fixed on me. Satisfaction washed over his features as his lips curled upward.
‘Ka-Kat?’ I attempted to repeat, the pronunciation already lost to me.
‘It’s Greek.’
‘I assumed. What does it mean?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
I rolled my eyes at him, before pulling my phone out of my pocket to Google the term. ‘How do you spell it?’
‘Good luck getting a signal.’ He smirked, and I officially gave up. Letting out a frustrated breath, I looked around the cabin, searching for a vacant place, only to find all the seats in the nearby vicinity occupied.
‘Did you really burn down a boat in Italy?’ he asked, pulling my attention back to him.
‘First off, it was a yacht,’ I corrected. ‘Second, just because I was on board, doesn’t mean I set the fire.’
‘I’m not hearing a denial.’
‘I was cleared of any wrongdoing.’
‘By who? Judge Judy?’ The way he said her name almost made me giggle, but instead, it raised questions.
‘Why are you being so weird? You storm in here, going on about plane crashes and banishing me to the high possibility of mid-flight motion sickness.’ I don’t dare mention the armrest fiasco. ‘And now you’re sitting here making jokes.’
He shrugged, slinking back. ‘Just trying to get to know my new partner.’
I paused for a moment, trying to decide if I trusted him. I didn’t have any reason not to; but I also wasn’t sure yet. Jon obviously trusted him, and I’d decided to trust Jon. Was it enough?
It was one of the things I’d gone over and over in therapy. I didn’t know how to trust anyone after Matteo’s betrayal. I’d been so carefree before, so easily led. Enough that the one person I thought I could rely on took advantage, and stole everything from me. That could never happen again; I didn’t think I could survive it.
I decided to steer the conversation away from me. ‘How did you meet Jon?’
‘He used to train me.’
‘Really?’ I’d never asked for backgrounds on the team Matteo had put together. I knew he’d only pick the best. Jon and I had grown close while working together, but I’d never asked about his previous clients.
‘Yep.’
‘Why did he stop?’
He turned his head to me, raising an eyebrow with a hint of mischief in his eyes. ‘He was poached by a certain tennis pro for his daughter.’
‘Oh,’ I responded, my mouth forming a circle, my heart plummeting in my chest at the mere insinuation of him.
‘What happened there? With your dad.’ His tone was relaxed as he was so obviously unaware of the emotional landmine he had stepped on.
I tried to swallow, but my throat had turned dry at the simple mention of him. It wasn’t his business. It wasn’t anyone’s business. I’d never told anyone, apart from my mum, what had happened.
I went to the ITIA and told them to test my blood again, to double-check every sample because I had used something that strictly was not allowed. I made an educated guess at the drug name, told them it was something they didn’t normally test for, and they found it. If I’d given them a reason, placed the blame on my team, my ban could’ve been shorter. They were always going to strip me of the win, but I could’ve had six months instead of twenty-four.
But I didn’t want six. I didn’t want the two years. I wanted forever. I wanted to burn the house down, and his legacy alongside it. I wanted everything he’d ever dreamed of to be impossible, even if it meant I wouldn’t be able to play the sport I loved ever again.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ My answer was a simple shrug, but it wasn’t enough to shake him off.
‘If we’re going to be partners, don’t you think I should know?’ Nico pressed on, with his eyebrows raised and lips pursed with curiosity. I could hear the cogs ticking in his head. All the rumours over the last few years about what happened to the great Scottie Sinclair for her to go so far off the wagon. What drove her wild?
‘I don’t see the relevance,’ I snapped a little too aggressively, desperately trying to put up a defence. I wanted to plead with him to drop the topic, willing to do anything to avoid explaining myself. So, I did what I could to divert the conversation, to steer it away from my own troubled past. ‘You don’t see me asking about your knee,’ I continued, my tone biting. ‘How’s that going? What complications did you have? Aren’t you worried you’ll never play again, that you’ll need to rely on somebody younger and faster if you want a chance in hell of coming near another title?’
Nico blinked at me, a stormy look brewing across his features. His eyes glanced around my face, reading my own stoney, resolute expression. I could feel the pressure growing in the air, like a thunderstorm building in the atmosphere.
‘You know what, Rossi – or is it Sinclair?’ he began, every word laced with poisonous venom. ‘I can’t wait to get you on that court. You’re so cocky, you think you’re unbeatable – even after almost two years. But you couldn’t win a Grand Slam without cheating. Jon thinks you can do it clean, but he also knows you can’t do it without the help of this “old man” and his fucked knee.’ Nico kept his voice so low, so quiet, but every bit as aggressive as if he was screaming the words at me. And all I could do was sit and take it.
‘First day of training. You versus me,’ he challenged, eyes darkened with rage. ‘Don’t forget, katsarída, you quit. You gave up, ran away,’ he continues with a sneer. ‘But all I’ve done is train, and fight, and get stronger. We’ll play, and we can see who’s most worried about never winning again.’
My teeth clenched tightly as I tried to hold back my emotions, gritting out a forced response. ‘Fine.’
I stared into his eyes, seeing the anger swirling within them. Without daring to look back, I pushed myself up and out of the row, my heart pounding in my chest, before going in search of another flight attendant.
I’d bribe somebody out of their seat if that’s what it took, but I wasn’t sitting next to him for another second.