Clean Point

14 Scottie

14

ballad of a homeschooled girl – Olivia Rodrigo

I had planned to try and avoid Nico for the remainder of the week, but apparently, I didn’t even need to try. It seemed, from the way he deserted me after practice on the court and turned around if he saw me walking towards him in the corridor, Nico wanted to avoid me as much as I needed to stay away from him. By Friday, I was ready to request a separate training time. Outside of our tennis practice that we had to have together (according to Jon) he barely looked at me, let alone spoke to me. And the navy cap didn’t leave his head for a moment. I was beginning to suspect he slept with the damn thing on.

When our day finally split up, with yoga down on the beach for me and physio inside the villa for him, I was glad for it. That was, until Dylan and the others showed up for yoga, which had now apparently switched from an individual class to a group setting.

A sharp foot hit mine as I balanced in a three-legged downward dog position, the instructor facing outward across the beach, missing everything. My foot stayed firm on the mat, the lumps of the sand underneath giving me extra balance.

I glanced to my left, where the back of Dylan’s brunette head obscured my view. She’d been doing this throughout the entire class, blocking my space and making me wonder if I’d soon be covered in bruises.

‘Now exhale as you gently lower your extended leg back down to the mat,’ the instructor suggested. As I released my breath, I tried to imagine my deep-seated frustration with the woman next to me dissipating like a rolling wave receding into the sea.

It didn’t work.

We transitioned into a new position, legs holding strong, rooted to the ground, while my arms stretched out wide for balance. I had taken a deep breath, focusing on the taste of the sea salt air when an arm connected with my face, the skin burning with the sharp impact. I wobbled, falling out of the pose to stop myself from tumbling into the sand.

‘Hey,’ I snipped, immediately turning to Dylan. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Oh, did I catch you?’ She asked with feigned innocence, her sharp features betraying none of the mischief in her actions.

‘You hit me,’ I stated bluntly, sick of her already. All class she had been pushing her luck, and I’d reached my limit.

She shrugged, her slender body returning to the position as if I wasn’t worth spending any more time arguing with. ‘Maybe you were too close to me.’

Irritation pricked at my skin too incessantly to ignore. ‘Stay out of my way.’

She barely flinched at my demand. ‘Or what?’

‘Maybe we should all get into child’s pose for a moment and take a few breaths to calm down,’ Kyra, the instructor, suggested, stepping in. I had been all but ready to put Dylan in corpse pose and call it a day.

Clenching my teeth, I’d tried to rein in the overwhelming anger swirling around me like an out-of-control freight train. Dylan stared me down, her unwavering gaze bringing me right back to our last match up at Wimbledon.

‘Kneel on your mats, big toes touching, and knees spread apart,’ the instructor said, her light tone successfully pulling my attention from Dylan. Somehow, I convinced myself getting into a physical fight on the beach was not the way to solve the situation. ‘Gently lower your hips back toward your heels and extend your arms forward. Allow your forehead to sink down, releasing any tension. Take a few deep breaths, surrendering to the serenity of this pose.’

I tried to do as she instructed, sinking deeply into the position, but my mind was anything but clear.

Two summers ago. Hot heat pounding down on the Wimbledon centre court grass.

One last set to go.

Matteo watching my every move.

I shuddered at the memory, still unable to stop it from having a physical effect on me. I’d cried for weeks after they stripped me of the title, haunted by headlines and tabloids and interviews with Dylan declaring me a cheat over and over. But I couldn’t blame her; my disqualification didn’t make her any more a winner, and with no other titles under her belt other than runner up, that had to hurt all the more. In the end, we both lost out because of someone else’s actions.

‘Hey, can I join?’ a familiar voice asked, and I twisted out of the position to see Nico standing at the front of the class.

‘Of course,’ the instructor said, smiling up at him. ‘You can take the free mat next to Scottie.’

He nodded in reply, walking to where I was stretched out, my head propped up, eyes following his every step.

When he lowered to the mat, getting into position, I hissed, ‘Don’t you have physio?’

He turned to me, eyes meeting mine. ‘Day off.’

‘So, you’re here?’

He looked at me weirdly, as if it was none of my business why he had come to interrupt my only escape from him. ‘It’s what Jon said to do instead.’

I sighed in frustration. First Dylan, now him. Turning back to the mat, I’d tried to surrender to the pose, but, if anything, the tension in my body had only increased. Yoga was supposed to be effective at decreasing stress; not become the source of it. I had found solace in the fact that apart from having to stare at the back of Nico’s head, I wouldn’t have to interact with anyone else.

‘Since we have the numbers, how about we do a couple of partner poses today?’ And with a single question, the instructor sealed the deal on yoga being the source of my heightened blood pressure.

I wanted to die. I knew I couldn’t go with Dylan. The woman would sooner drown me in the ocean and call it fish position. The instructor, sensing my moral danger, thankfully paired Dylan with another person in the class, which left Nico and I staring awkwardly at each other. I watched as his throat bobbed for a moment, mesmerized by the movement.

‘I guess we’re partners.’ His words were hesitant, as if he had also been rethinking the class. Drowning in the ocean suddenly didn’t sound like the worst case scenario. Last time we did anything like this, he basically ran away and stole my hat. Well, his hat, but it was on my head. Technicalities.

Grumbling with disdain, we’d moved into position, sitting at opposite sides of the mat, our spines lengthened, feet meeting in the middle. Our hands slid into each other’s, and I’d tried not to lose my concentration to the roughness of his well-earned calluses against the softness of my wrist. He pulled me forward, the muscles in his forearms flexing and tightening, and my throat dried up at the movement. We took turns using each other to stretch for the required pose, and the silence that fell between us screamed at me.

‘I can’t get over the tweener you pulled today,’ I said, trying to fill the silence with reflections of our earlier session. He caught me in our final game with the move, hitting the ball between his legs and causing me to lose the set. Sarah, the PR photographer for ELITE, had joined us during our morning practice like she had been since she arrived, but disappeared after the first twenty minutes, saying she had enough ‘action shots’. I suspected she wanted some time beside the pool.

He grunted a simple response, his gaze focusing on the space between us. Frustration started getting the better of me, and on his next stretch forward, I pulled tightly, forcing him to deepen his stretch. Nico looked up at me, his brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out if I did it intentionally or not.

‘You’re ignoring me,’ I stated plainly.

‘That’s no—’

‘Let’s do some stretches,’ the instructor suggested, cutting off whatever bullshit excuse was about to come out of Nico’s mouth. ‘One of you, please lie on your back.’ I looked around uneasily, but a quick glance at Nico told me clearly that it wouldn’t be him.

‘Are you going to lie down?’ He asked, his tone agitated, and I was unsure why he was so uncomfortable with this instruction. Pressing my lips together, and swallowing my anxiety, I laid down on the mat, my arms stretched down my body, pressing into the ground.

The next instruction came as I shimmied into position. ‘Now, extend your legs straight out. This is where your partner will come in and help you lengthen your legs over your chest as you inhale and exhale.’ We both froze, watching the others as they did as instructed, realizing what this entailed. When I turned to Nico, he was on his knees, his jaw clenched, and eyebrows pushed together.

‘What do I do now?’ he asked, clearly not paying much attention.

‘Grasp her ankles with your hands,’ the instructor began, ‘and with one leg at a time, stretch it up and over her body until she’s doubled over.’ Judging by how wide his eyes grew, his throat bobbing again with another nervous swallow, he finally realized what position we were supposed to get into.

He’d looked down at me, wild panic stretched across his features. I stared at him blankly, unsure what he wanted me to do now that he had made me lie down.

Eventually I caved, ‘Look, the sooner we do it, the sooner we get this over with.’

Nico took a deep breath, like he was trying to collect himself and build the will to touch me. Was he really so repulsed by me? I flinched when he finally gripped my ankles.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, his eyes flickering up from my legs to my face. ‘Is this alright?’

‘Yes, it wasn’t you … I’m ticklish.’

A grin stretched across his lips for a moment as he grabbed my legs again, lifting them up. It was awkward, but gradually, he pulled them over my body, my lower back rising up off the mat, leaving only my arms and shoulders to make contact with the ground.

The aching stretch in my lower back was easily forgotten by his focused eyes meeting mine, wisps of his dark curled hair falling into his face, and the compromising position he had pulled me into. I’d been in less compromising positions with one-night stands, let alone my mixed partner.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. ‘Are you sure this is okay?’

I nodded, not quite able to form a string of tangible words. The feel of his hands against my ankles. The upward view of his face and strong arms stretching me. I shouldn’t have been distracted by the ripple of muscle. But I was.

Whose bad idea was it for him to join this class, again?

‘Why do you keep avoiding me?’ The question slipped out of me of its own accord. After all, I knew my reason for avoiding him, but what did he have against me? I was a delight to be around.

His face creased with denial. ‘What are you talking about? I’m literally holding your feet over your head.’

I kept my voice hushed. ‘This is the longest conversation we’ve had since Monday.’

I’d foolishly thought we were getting somewhere when I’d tried to help his knee, like he was finally trusting me, even slightly. I suppose it hadn’t helped that I was keeping things from him in return. Was it worse if he knew I’d failed the test or that I’d kept the results from him?

He bit his lip, looking uncomfortable in the face of my accusation, but he didn’t deny it.

I took a deep breath, before admitting on a whisper, ‘It’s like you can’t bear to be around me’

‘Believe me, Scottie,’ he whispered back. ‘That’s not the problem here.’

I was frozen, staring wide eyed in confusion at Nico, all the while his gaze burning down right back at me with something else entirely. The already small space between us felt claustrophobic and tight, like I hadn’t realized how close our bodies were until it was too late.

With a camera flash, the world came tumbling around us. We’d been so lost in the moment we didn’t notice Sarah’s arrival.

She stood there, camera in hand, looking down at the screen, a grin wide on her face. Nico’s hands released me, and in a split second he was so far away, it almost felt like it never happened.

‘Did you just take a photo?’ I asked, my tone wavering with doubt.

Sarah grinned. ‘This is perfect for the campaign. When I heard Nico was joining the class, I knew we’d get some tasty shots.’

‘Tasty?’ I repeated as I pushed myself up from the mat, still arranging the moment as if it was a jigsaw. She took a photo, with Nico and me … in that position. I could see it in my mind’s eye, how close we had been, the momentary connection we had shared in the vulnerable moment. How it would look splashed all over the front pages of a tabloid, paired a stupid click bait headline like ‘Scandalized Scottie gets bent over on a public beach’. I cringed at the thought, my cheeks burning red. Not only for myself, but for Nico. This agreement with ELITE wasn’t supposed to be moments like this, twisted and scandalous.

‘This will get the traction we need online,’ she added, as if it was a done deal.

‘No.’ I shook my head in denial. ‘There’s no way you can post that photo.’

She furrowed her thick brows together in confusion. ‘Why not? It’s perfect. You guys are together, and we can see the brand names perfectly. It’s exactly what we’re after.’

‘This isn’t the kind of photo we agreed to.’ I curled my clammy hands into fists, keeping my voice low as I attempted to keep the conversation private. Behind me, I knew the rest of the class had stopped to watch the drama unfold. Their eyes burned holes into my back.

‘It’s just yoga.’ Sarah shrugged innocently, glancing down again at the photo.

I sucked in a deep breath, running dangerously out of patience as I stood up, my legs feeling anything but strong. ‘Sarah, please delete the photo. I’m not comfortable with it.’

She tilted her head, raised an eyebrow, and with an exasperated sigh, she said, ‘Really? You have a problem with this?’

I knew what she was thinking. This? Never mind the hundreds of photos out there of you in compromising positions. Never mind the fact that you’re a girl who always gets into trouble, lies, and does all the party drugs she can get her hands on. Everything and anything a tabloid or a so-called friend has ever said I’ve done, I knew Sarah believed it.

I felt two inches tall and she looked me up and down, filled with smugness. She held the camera in her hand, revelling in the power she had stolen from me. I was beginning to suspect she’d have me get on my hands and knees to beg.

‘She said delete it,’ Nico said, stepping beside me. There was no room in his tone for argument, the authority of it sending shivers down my spine. I turned to him, eyes dancing along the set line of Nico’s jaw, his gaze locked in an icy fury directed at Sarah.

‘Our contract doesn’t state what we can and can’t take photos of,’ she replied.

‘I don’t care. Delete the photo before I do it for you.’ He stood tall compared to how I felt, unwavering in his authority. I looked from him to Sarah, watching as her lips were pursed together in displeasure.

She lifted the camera, pressing a few buttons. ‘Fine. It’s done.’

Instant relief washed over me, but for Nico, it wasn’t enough.

‘Let me see,’ he pressed, stepping in front of me. ‘I don’t believe you deleted it.’ She attempted to stare him down, debating whether she should stand her ground. With a sigh, she passed him the camera.

Staring over his shoulder, I watched as he expertly pressed the buttons on the camera, navigating to the gallery. I had been stupid enough to believe her, but the picture was still there. And when I saw it, I realized how much worse the scene looked.

Our faces were so close together, our gazes connected. In reality, what was a simple stretch looked like an intimate moment captured between lovers. Or that was how it would look if it ever made its way into anyone else’s hands.

I released a shaky breath as Nico pressed the delete button, the photo disappearing from the memory card. The previous photo flashed up, one from our earlier practice on the court.

His stoney demeanour didn’t crack as he handed back the camera to a pouting Sarah.

‘You should be more careful if you don’t want photos like that,’ Sarah said. ‘Next time, I might not be so obvious.’

My heart was in a panicked frenzy, beating so loudly I could hear it. This place was supposed to be private and safe, but with ELITE’s presence, I was as vulnerable here as I was out there. Maybe more so.

‘Well, the next time, I might not give back the camera at all,’ Nico warned, earning himself another glare from her. Out of retorts, she stormed away and off the beach. Nico’s shoulders didn’t relax until she disappeared from view.

He excused himself from the class, his jaw still set tight as he walked away. I looked around at the others, all eyes still on me. Without a word, I slipped on my sandals and ran after him.

‘I’m pretty sure Jon’s going to have your ass for that,’ I said, as I caught up to his furious speed.

He didn’t look at me, eyes set on the horizon. ‘I don’t care. There was no way she was keeping the photo.’

I wondered for a moment if he had done it for me or for his own self-image. I doubted he wanted to be connected to me in that context. In any context if he was truthful, but here we were, anyway.

‘Thanks for having my back,’ I said. Whatever his reason, it didn’t matter. He was entirely to thank for the picture no longer being in Sarah’s hands. He’d protected me.

Nico stopped and flashed me a look that caught me entirely off guard. His eyes were stormy, jaw set tight as he spoke firmly. ‘Don’t thank me.’

‘I want to.’

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, the noise tinged with disappointment as his gaze fell to the warm sand below our feet. ‘You shouldn’t thank somebody for treating you like a human being.’

‘You’d be surprised how little it happens.’ I truly thought my words would break the tension, relax him, and remind him this was nothing new to me. Then I remembered how he looked at me that day in Jon’s office when we agreed to all of this. How his face turned to concern after Jon showed us the article about us landing in Rhodes. Did he actually care?

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, his tone still sinister, that dark look in his eyes anything but a comfort. Did this man live somewhere without an internet connection? Or did my existence before now mean so little to him, he didn’t even brush up on tabloid gossip?

‘What do you mean?’

I was beginning to think maybe I thought too much of myself, that I was still unimportant and my impact on the world over the last two years didn’t extend off the gossip pages of the Daily Tea, when he softened, his shoulder relaxing somewhat.

‘People …’ he trailed off, losing track of his thoughts for a moment. When he looked at me, his gaze was a little wild, a little unhinged. I was begging to know what he looked like truly feral. ‘People should treat you better, Scottie.’

My throat was dry as I nodded. ‘I know.’

‘No matter what you’ve done.’

‘You haven’t exactly been pleasant to be around,’ I pointed out, remembering our first meeting. The handshake he refused, everything we had said on the plane. Every bit of ground we gained felt uneasy. Every time we got closer, one of us went too far and we ended up further apart.

His hand went to the back of his neck and rubbed it uncomfortably. ‘I’m sorry for everything.’

I didn’t need him to explain. I was just as guilty for twisting the knife between us. I was wrapped up in secrets, sensitive when he dug too deep. He had no reason to trust me other than Jon’s word, and less when I lashed out like I had.

‘I’m sorry, too,’ I said, before a small smile creeped onto my lips. ‘Especially all those times I reminded you of how ancient you are.’

‘Thirty-three is not old.’

My jaw opened wide in fake shock. ‘You’re how old?’

‘Oh, shut up,’ he retorted, the darkness almost completely erased.

‘What was it like back in the old days? Did you use a horse and carriage to get around everywhere?’

Nico rolled his eyes at me. ‘I’m only eight years older than you.’

‘That must feel like a lifetime at your age.’

We turned together, and headed back up to the villa, leaving the incident behind us. I was cautious, but optimistic that maybe this could work. We could work.

‘I thought you were going to play nicely, katsarída,’ he murmured, curiosity sparking inside of me.

‘Are you ever going to tell me what that means?’ I already knew his answer.

‘Ever going to tell me where the coffee is hidden?’

‘Maybe if you actually win a game on court, I’ll take pity.’

‘I think you are seriously misremembering our training sessions.’

I smiled brightly, an edge of satisfaction there. ‘Then I guess more coffee for me.’