Chapter 14 Zayden
ZAYDEN
I’M HALFWAY THROUGH PEELING off my shirt when I realise how late it is.
The sky outside the locker room is dark. I check the time on the cracked screen of my phone and feel my stomach drop straight to the floor. Shit. Nora. The dinner I planned. I was supposed to be there thirty minutes ago.
Coach was on edge tonight – more than usual – and I have no clue why. He had us out on the field way past the usual time, running drills until our legs burnt and the air turned thick with humidity and sweat. No explanations, no breaks, just a whole lot of yelling, whistle blows and more yelling.
I should’ve found a way to message her. Ducked out, borrowed someone’s phone, literally anything, but I honestly didn’t realise the practice had gone so far over. I already knew it would be tight making it, but I didn’t realise I’d miss the entire dinner.
I shove the rest of my stuff into my gym bag and take off at a sprint, skipping the shower, shoes barely tied, ignoring the curious looks from my teammates. I cut through the carpark, heart hammering. I hate this feeling. Knowing I’ve let her down.
By the time I make it to the restaurant, I know it’s too late. The table’s empty. I know because I’d picked the one near the window, which has the view of the high-rises.
The waitress glances at me as I step through the door, half out of breath and still in the shorts I wore for training. I head over to the table and stare down at it.
‘She already left,’ the woman says gently, wearing the restaurant’s uniform. ‘About twenty minutes ago.’
‘Right.’ I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘Thanks.’
I stand there for a second, pretending to check my phone again, like maybe she’s texted something in the last thirty seconds.
Still nothing. My hand drops to my side.
I know it’s just dinner, we’re pretending, just part of the arrangement, but I always show up.
Now all I can do is picture her, sitting alone at that table, trying not to look like she was waiting for someone who forgot her.
My stomach sinks. This will have hurt her, because this isn’t a game, or a lie, or a simple, fake arrangement. Honestly, it’s never felt like that. I already had real feelings for her before we started this, making this entire situation so much worse.
I pull out my phone again and call her. The phone doesn’t even ring and I’m met instantly with her voicemail. I start typing a message, hoping she hasn’t blocked me.
Zayden: Nora. I’m so sorry. Training ran late. Coach was on one tonight. I couldn’t get to my phone. I didn’t forget. I swear I didn’t. Please let me explain.
I hover over send. It doesn’t feel like enough but I send it anyway.
Dragging my feet, I collapse into my car, feeling unbelievably exhausted. I’ve never had to train so damn hard. Football feels like it’s consuming my life right now. My best guess is that Coach thinks there’ll be talent scouts at the next match.
By the time I get back to the house, the street is quiet.
The glow of the porch lights splashes across the front steps, and a mozzie buzzes near my ear. I stand there for a second with my keys in hand. She lives here now, so there’s no avoiding this.
Nora felt uncomfortable where she lived before and I don’t want that to happen to her again. The door creaks as I push it open. The hallway’s dim and the kitchen light is still on. I flick it off and creep up the stairs. Her bedroom door is closed, which is no surprise.
I hover outside it for a second, then knock softly. I knock again, a little firmer. ‘Nora? It’s me.’
There’s a pause, then the door opens. She’s dressed in trackies and an oversized tee. Her makeup’s off. Hair tied up. She looks … tired.
‘Hey,’ I say quietly.
She steps back just enough for me to come in. The room is neat. Much neater than mine. There are books stacked beside the bed, her laptop open on the desk, music paused mid-song. A hoodie – mine – draped over her chair.
I stand near the door, unsure of what to do with myself. I feel awkward and tense, which are two things I never feel around Nora.
‘I’m sorry.’
She doesn’t say anything. She stands before me, arms folded across her chest, a stony expression on her face. Yup. She’s pissed.
‘Coach kept us late. I don’t know what was going on with him, but we ran until half the team looked ready to vomit. I couldn’t get to my phone and he does not tolerate any excuses to pause practice. I wasn’t trying to blow you off, I swear.’
She leans back against her dresser, arms folded, watching me with an unreadable expression. ‘You could’ve told me earlier in the day that training might run over. That you might be late.’
‘I’m sorry, I should have communicated better with you,’ I say cautiously. ‘That’s why I said I’d need to meet you there, because I wouldn’t have much time. We very rarely run over that late though, he has been hard on us lately.’
She looks down, then back up, something sharp flickering across her face.
‘I’ve been stood up before, Zayden. More than once, also by people I trust.’ She sighs, looking a little teary, and I hate that I’ve caused this.
‘It just … it felt like the online thing again. Waiting for someone who never intended to turn up. James really hurt me with all the games he played.’
I take a step closer. ‘This wasn’t that. I’m not James, or anyone else who made you feel like you didn’t matter.’
Nora stands there, arms folded, eyes fixed on the floor.
‘Look, I know it looks bad, but please believe me – I’d never intentionally do this to you.
I was looking forward to dinner with you all day.
’ Her face softens, watery eyes flickering up to meet mine.
‘I know this is fake,’ I go on, heart thudding, ‘but I care about you. The last thing I want is to be another person who lets you down.’
The silence stretches.
Then she sighs, soft and tired. ‘You smell like grass and mud.’
A weak laugh escapes me. ‘Yeah. I do.’
She studies me for another long second, then gestures towards the hallway. ‘Go shower. But please, for the love of God, turn up to dinner tomorrow night.’
‘Absolutely,’ I say instantly. ‘There’s no chance this will ever happen again.’
When I come out of the shower, towel-drying my hair, I feel some of the tightness leave my chest when I see that Nora is tucked into my bed, blankets pulled up to her chin.
I flick off the light and climb in beside her, the mattress dipping beneath my weight, making her roll a little closer to me. She shifts slightly, giving me space, but I don’t want space from her.
For a minute, we just lie there. Then she moves slowly and presses into my side, her head resting against my shoulder like it’s something we’ve done a hundred times before. My arm lifts instinctively, wrapping around her.
It’s not sexual. It’s not flirty. It’s something else entirely. A comfortable closeness. Her breath evens out against my chest, warm on my bare skin.
‘I really am sorry,’ I whisper into her hair.
‘I know,’ she says, almost too quietly to hear.
I don’t think about footy, or the team, or Coach, or how close I am to losing everything. Instead, I just hold her a little tighter. She doesn’t pull away.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m messing everything up. Nora’s breathing slows beside me, steady and soft. I let my eyes close too.
Even if neither of us knows what this is, I’m not ready to let it go any time soon.
Distinction.
I blink down at my phone in complete shock.
Exiting out of the app, I refresh it and stare once more. I scroll back up, re-reading the comments from the tutor.
‘Insightful application of theory, Zayden. You’ve shown a clear understanding of practical strategy. I’m looking forward to more from you.’
I laugh – actually laugh, out loud – and a couple of passing students look at me. Never before have I had such a high mark. I scrape through on passes and as of late, I haven’t even been passing.
After everything – late training, pressure from Coach, almost screwing up with Nora – this feels like something solid. Something I’ve finally done right. All I want to do is tell her.
I cut across the lawn near the library, weaving through groups.
Students sprawl on the grass, half-asleep in the sun.
I spot her near the cafe sitting with Anya and Cami, laughing at something.
She’s wearing that soft blue jumper I love on her, and her hair is pulled up in that messy way she always wears it.
‘Nora!’ She turns at the sound of my voice, eyes lighting up when she sees me. ‘Guess who smashed their marketing report,’ I say, a little breathless.
‘You passed?’ she asks, bringing her hands together in excitement.
‘Passed?’ I repeat. ‘I got a Distinction.’
She squeals – loud enough for everyone around us to glance over – and leaps to her feet. Before I can second-guess it, I collect her face in my hands and dive towards her mouth. Her breath catches, just for a second, and then she kisses me back.
When we pull apart, Cami lets out an obnoxious whistle and Anya is grinning from ear to ear. Nora’s cheeks are flushed, but she doesn’t look away or step back from me.
‘You got a Distinction?’ she asks, looking pleased at the news.
I nod, still grinning. ‘Yep. All thanks to you.’
She shakes her head, biting back a smile. ‘You did all the hard work. I just helped you understand what was being asked.’
‘I wouldn’t have got it without you either way.’
‘I’m so proud of you, Zayden. That’s amazing news.’
I beam under her praise, thrilled she is so happy for me. It means a lot.
She doesn’t hesitate or pause when I grab her hand and pull her after me, probably quite rudely, since I still haven’t acknowledged Anya or Cami. We walk fast, ducking around the corner of the library, away from the courtyard and the noise.
She opens her mouth to say something but I press her back against the wall gently and kiss her. Her hands slide into my shirt, fingers curling up the fabric. My hand cradles the back of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, and she leans into me like she’s been waiting for this just as much as I have.
There’s undeniable heat between us. I pull back just enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us out of breath.
‘I had to kiss you so badly.’
‘You had to kiss me?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Her lips curve slowly into a smile. ‘Well, lucky for you, I’m not opposed to that.’
She leans in again, pressing a gentler kiss to my mouth. Slower this time. Something softer and a bit deeper. When we pull apart, her fingers are still tangled in my shirt, and my pulse is thrumming.
I take a step back, offering my hand again. ‘Come on. Let’s celebrate properly. I’m buying you a muffin. Maybe even two.’
She laughs, tucking into my side as we walk back around the building. ‘Only if they’re chocolate chip.’
‘Do I look like a rookie?’
She smiles at the ground, cheeks still pink, and I don’t let go of her hand the entire walk.