Chapter 19
SADIE
I didn’t feel like an A-lister being chased by the paparazzi in the streets of London when I went back to the dorms to grab my stuff.
I didn’t run into that many people, and I made Danny wait in the car.
Spending another night at his place wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be either.
He slept on the couch in the living room, and I was so tired that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I was back in my dorm room on Sunday morning, and mercifully, I didn’t have to fight Danny on that. He was probably sick of me already.
I called Dad back since I’d forgotten to do so on Saturday.
It turned out he was just checking on me, then invited me over to his place whenever I had the time.
I said I would get back to him on that, which was code for “I will avoid you as much as I can.” Is it horrible that I keep blowing him off?
Sure. But it’ll take more than moving closer to him to erase all the years he wasn’t there for me.
Monday morning at practice, I feel the weight of all the stares of my teammates when I enter the locker room. It was foolish of me to think they would have already forgotten Friday’s incident. The thing is, I had already moved past that, and their scrutiny just got under my nerves.
“Can you guys piss off with the concerned looks? Like I said, I’m fine.” I veer for my locker.
“The bitch is back. She’s clearly fine,” Melody pipes up.
“You haven’t seen the bitch yet,” I murmur.
Vanessa stops next to me. “I guess your sleepover was a bust, huh?”
“If you’re inferring it was a bust because nothing happened, then you’re correct and wrong at the same time.”
“You lost me.”
I give her a droll look. “Nothing happened, like I said it wouldn’t, and it wasn’t a bust.”
“Then what’s up with the foul mood?”
I close the metal door with a bang. “I don’t know. I’m just on edge, like I have all this pent-up energy that needs to be released. I’m keen on a good practice game.”
“Or pent-up sexual tension.” She laughs, stepping away from me.
“Dude, you’d better pray you’re playing on my team today.”
“What were you guys talking about?” Joanne asks.
“Vanessa was being nosy.” I sit on the bench to switch my shoes.
“Sadie, I want to apologize for Friday night. I feel awful that I didn’t go check on you after you disappeared.”
I look up. “What’s with everyone feeling bad about Friday? It wasn’t anyone’s fault that some wanker gave me a spiked drink.”
Joanne shoves her hands in her hoodie’s pockets. “We still should have come after you sooner, especially with the likes of Nick Fowler at the party.”
The anger that was simmering in my gut returns with a vengeance. Nick may not have put the drug in my drink—that’s something we’ll never know for sure—but he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the situation, and I won’t forget that.
“He’d better stay away from me if he has any sense of self-preservation.”
“I heard Paris almost smashed his face,” Steff says. “Pity the Pikes dragged Nick away and saved his sorry ass.”
“Paris would probably get benched if he got into a fight. It’s best that it didn’t happen, even as much as I’d like to see Nick get an ass whooping,” Vanessa replies.
A loud rumble shakes the building, interrupting our lovely convo.
“Whoa. Was that thunder?” Joanne asks.
A moment later, heavy rain pelts the windows, and the world outside looks like nightfall has come earlier. That type of storm is the kind that hurts when it hits you and makes playing football not fun at all.
Couch Lauda joins us in the common area a minute later.
“Well, it looks like this rain won’t stop until the afternoon. I’m switching the schedule. You’re going to do some weight lifting now.”
Almost everyone groans, including me. Weight lifting is boring as hell and not what I was looking forward to. I retrieve my duffel bag from the locker and change shoes again.
“Crap. We’ll get drenched walking from here to the car,” Phoebe moans.
“We used to get heavy showers like this all the time in Florida. It’s not a big deal.” Steff shrugs.
“Sadie must be used to it too since all it does is rain in London.” Joanne smiles.
“One never gets used to bad weather,” I reply. “Or the cold.”
No one was expecting rain, so naturally, no one had an umbrella. To be fair, I didn’t carry one with me in London either because they’re such a hassle. I’d rather use a raincoat.
In clusters, we run to our cars. The distance is short, but puddles have already formed on the pavement, and I manage to step in every single one of them.
The gym building is only a minute from the field, but all the parking spots near the entrance are taken.
Before I head out in the rain again, I check my duffel bag, hoping I packed an extra pair of sneakers.
Working out in wet shoes won’t do. I sigh in relief when I see my old gym shoes in the bag.
I meant to toss them out and forgot. Sometimes, having a shite memory is a good thing.
When we enter the building, I wrinkle my nose, getting a whiff of something awful.
“What’s up with the wet dog smell?” I ask no one in particular.
Vanessa’s eyes sweep the open room, where half the machines are currently in use. “It must be Nick.”
I follow her line of vision and spot the tosser far back, standing next to a bench press while his friend goes through his reps.
“For fuck’s sake. What is he doing here?” I glower in his direction.
“His coach probably had the same idea as ours.” Vanessa tugs on my duffel bag’s strap. “Come on. Ignore him. We’re here to work out. Don’t let him distract you.”
Grumbling, I follow Vanessa and the rest of my teammates to the gym’s locker room. It’s hard to let go of my anger though. Maybe instead of weight lifting, I should take out my aggression on a punching bag.
That’s exactly what I do. While my friends spread out through the gym to work on the machines, I head to one of the workout rooms where I spied a punching bag the other day I was here.
There’s no one here, so for a good fifteen minutes, I have the punching bag all to myself.
But then a couple of girls come in, chatting too loudly, and end my solitude.
Not in the mood to listen to idle gossip, I head out and search for a familiar face.
I should probably work out my legs now. I spot Vanessa and Joanne sharing a leg press machine and make a beeline in their direction.
My pulse is still pumping loudly in my ears thanks to the cardio, and for that reason, I don’t pay attention to what’s going on in my periphery.
That’s when bloody Nick decides to show up, sporting a sneer. The wanker once again blocks my path.
“I was wondering where you were, darling.”
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I say, loud enough to draw attention.
He grabs my arm tightly, as if he has the right to touch me. “You have to learn some manners.”
“How about this for manners?” I bring my knee up, slamming it against Nick’s balls.
He howls, stepping back and leaning forward as he cups his junk with both hands. “You bitch.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Coach Lauda asks, looking none too happy.
“She kicked me in the balls,” he moans.
“Sadie?” She looks at me, frowning but not yet glowering.
“He got handsy. Men need to understand they can’t go pawing whoever they like without asking.”
“You wish I touched you,” he lies.
I glance around, searching for a witness that will step forward and confirm my accusation. No one meets my eye, not even the girls.
Wankers. The whole lot.
“All right, Sadie. Come with me.” Couch Lauda turns around and walks away without bothering to wait.
That wasn’t a request, it was an order, so I follow her quietly. My face is burning, which means it must be as red as a tomato. It’s not embarrassment as some of the people staring might think. I’m red from anger.
Coach Lauda leads me to a back room in the gym, which must be used as administration slash storage. There’s a small desk and two chairs. She motions for me to go in first and then closes the door. She doesn’t make a motion to take one of the chairs, so I remain standing as well.
“Explain to me what that was back there.”
“Nick Fowler is a dick,” I say angrily.
Coach pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m aware that Fowler is problematic, but his behavior is not my problem. Yours is.”
“How is that fair? The bellend grabs my arm and I’m supposed to just ask politely for him to let go?”
“That would have been better than kicking him in the nuts. Everyone saw you do that. No one stepped forward to say he touched you first.”
“Because they’re all a bunch of cowards.”
“Probably. But you need to understand, Sadie. Whatever you do reflects on the entire team. I can’t have one of my players assaulting another student. You’re a promising star. I’d hate to bench you because of a weasel like Nick Fowler.”
My blood is boiling, and it’s taking every bit of self-control to keep my angry retort bottled inside.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Hopefully I can smooth things over with Coach Phillips. We go way back. But you have to promise me there won’t be a repeat. If you must defend yourself, make sure there are willing witnesses to confirm your story. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Oh, and one more thing. Skip parties throughout the rest of preseason training.”
My chest feels tight suddenly. Does Couch Lauda know about last Friday?
“Why?”
“Drinking to the point of passing out is not something I want to hear about my players.”
Shame washes over me, even though that’s not what happened. But I can’t confess to Coach Lauda what actually did. She might want to tell my father, and that’s something I want to avoid at all costs.
So I swallow my pride and let her believe the lie.
“Understood. It won’t happen again.”