Chapter 26
Itake a deep breath as I step onto the field, trying to clear my head. I can’t be distracted out here. The whistle blows and we’re off, running drills up and down the pitch. Jessamine falls into stride next to me, her ponytail bouncing in a way that mimics her frenetic energy.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
She grimaces. “Not great. I can’t seem to get the spin move down.”
I nod. “Here, watch me.” I execute a perfect spin, faking left before whipping the ball to the right.
Jessamine frowns. “You make it look so easy.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. It just takes practice.” We repeat the drill and I give her tips, telling her to shift her weight and use her hips more. By the fifth rep, she’s starting to get it.
“Yes! That was perfect!” I high five her and she grins, flushed with accomplishment. We continue running plays and I lose myself in the rhythm of the practice, the physical exertion wiping my mind blissfully blank.
Towards the end, I glance up at the stands and freeze. Is that...? No, just my imagination playing tricks.
I shake my head and focus on the final drill. The whistle blows, signaling the end of practice, and I jog off the field with Jessamine.
“Thanks for the help today,” she says. “I really appreciate you taking the time.”
“No problem. That’s what teammates are for.” I smile and head to the locker room, feeling centered again.
Rugby and this team are my purpose now. The rest will work itself out.
I hit the showers, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. The steam fills the locker room as I reflect on practice. Jessamine picked things up so quickly—she’s got real talent, and I can see this being a momentary stop on a long and illustrious rugby career. I rinse off and get dressed, ready to head home.
As I’m leaving, I spot Jessamine in the parking lot. “Hey, wait up!” I call out.
She turns. “Oh, hey Dylan.”
“Just wanted to say again, you did awesome today. You’re gonna do big things on this team… and beyond!”
Jessamine smiles shyly. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely. I saw myself in you out there. That drive to keep improving. You’ve got a bright future ahead.”
“That means a lot, especially coming from you. You’re, like, my rugby idol.”
I laugh, feeling myself blush. It’s humbling to realize from time to time that junior players have been tracking my career from afar. “Well, I’m happy to help anytime. See you at the next practice!”
We part ways, and I walk to my car with a smile. It feels good to encourage the next generation. My sour mood from this morning has lifted. Time to focus on the game, and nothing else.
I start my car and head for home, music blasting. The rush of practice still thrums through me.
As I cruise along, I think back to that moment I thought I saw Jayden in the stands. I shake my head and laugh at myself. Wishful thinking, obviously. I must be delirious if I’m imagining my roommates showing up at practice now.
Still, a tiny part of me wonders...was he really there?
No, impossible. He’s made his feelings clear. This living situation is temporary for him. Once the season ends, he’ll be off to his glamorous TV world or whatever. Filming ads for pizza or undies, most likely, while women hang off his shoulder, like all the other guys.
I crank up the music louder, drowning out my thoughts. The women’s team is my focus.
I downshift as I take a corner, tires squealing. The roar of the engine and the speed clear my head.
Pulling into the driveway, my adrenaline is still pumping.
As I hop out, the front door opens. Jayden steps out, looking irritable. “There you are,” he snaps. “Your damn car music is shaking the whole house.”
I bite my tongue and head inside without responding. So much for wishful thinking.
Jayden
The crunch of leaves under my boots marks my usual path to practice. But today isn’t usual at all. There she is—Dylan, warming up on the women’s field, her short ponytail swishing as she moves. Curiosity pulls me from my route, leading me to a secluded spot at the back of the bleachers.
I settle into the shadows, intrigued by the contrast between the two teams. The women laugh and shout spirited encouragement while my teammates grunt and growl aggressively. But damn, Dylan is impressive—her athleticism and leadership obvious as she patiently coaches a junior player.
“She’s good. Damn good. Not just at playing, but leading too,” I think. “Reminds me of...” No. Don’t go there. Dylan deserves more than unfair comparisons.
As practice ends, Dylan lingers to offer extra tips. She’s not playing a part—she’s living it. My view shifts subtly. Why do I feel like she could be...genuine? But I guess everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves—even me.
With a deep breath, I step from the shadows, moving beyond past hurts. Next time we talk, I’ll make it right. Or at least try.
I emerge from the shadows and start across the field, my steps slow and uncertain. What will I even say to her? “Hey Dylan, sorry for being a jerk but you remind me of my cheating ex” or “hey Dylan, I have insurmountable trust issues because of my abusive stepfather and that’s why I’m such a moody asshole”? Yeah, that’ll go over real well.
My palms sweat as I near where she’s still working with the junior player. Her voice carries on the crisp autumn air as she demonstrates a side-step technique, patient and focused.
I pause, lingering at the edge of the field unseen. She’s so at ease here, in her element. This is where she belongs. I have no right to disrupt this moment for her.
Dylan glances my way and I freeze. Our eyes almost meet for a brief moment before I look away, pulse quickening. Does she recognize me? Has she noticed me watching her?
I suddenly feel a wave of awkwardness wash over me. I shouldn’t be here. It feels like I’m violating her space, lurking here on the sidelines like some kind of demented stalker.
I shuffle away awkwardly, hoping she hasn’t seen me retreating into the safety of the adjacent parking lot.