The Wing (Use it or Lose it #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Hemi

“Is it true what she said? There’s a problem with your shoulder?” Charlie asks, frowning at me with concern in her hazel eyes, so similar to mine.

I roll my shoulder and shrug, feeling a tiny twinge in the muscle. Whether it’s in my head or just sore after the game, I’m not sure, and that’s part of the issue. I decline the beer being handed out after our win. I don’t deserve it after my poor showing on the field.

“It’s fine,” I respond shortly.

“Totally fine. That’s why your physio just demanded a meeting.”

“She didn’t demand it,” I mutter. “Daisy doesn’t demand things. She carefully…cajoles them.”

“Cajoles? Really? What does that even mean?” Charlie asks with a laugh.

“You know what it means.” I yank off the tight black jersey, and it tangles around my head. Charlie tugs it off and drops it in my cubby.

“But she told you to see her tomorrow, right? That means there’s something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Charlotte,” I say, already knowing the response I’m about to get from my sister.

“Don’t full-name me, Hemi Carter. I just watched one of your medical providers tell you to see her tomorrow. That means something is wrong since you haven’t mentioned anything.” Charlie jabs me in the waist, and I flinch when her sharp nails stab me.

“Jesus, do you ask the nail people to make them that sharp on purpose?” I rub my waist and frown at the faint indent her nail left on my skin.

Charlie crosses her arms and glares. “You gonna tell me what this is about or should I tell Mum?”

I roll my eyes at her. “If you tell her, I’ll tell her about the guy you dated for six months and never told her about.”

Charlie gasps, narrowing her eyes at me. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” We lock eyes, but I break first and sigh.

“Look, I dunno what’s wrong with my shoulder.

My throws are off and I’m fumbling my catches, but I feel fine.

I don’t get it. Clearly other people have noticed, which is seriously bad for me,” I finish with a mutter and glance at Daisy ripping tape off Jamie, our hooker.

She’s a short white woman with brown hair, but that doesn’t stop her deceptively small hands from manipulating our muscles to her will. Jamie towers over her, and sweat streaks his medium brown skin and Samoan tattoo covering the entirety of his left leg.

I avoid trying to find Alex Clark, our head coach, to see if he’s noticed anything. Chances aren’t looking good if the physios have noticed something. That means the coaches have, and I can expect a discussion with them soon. I rub the tight feeling in my chest away.

“That’s shit. I’m sorry. Does it hurt?” Charlie asks, frowning at my shoulder.

Charlotte is my older sister, half-sister technically, but it’s never felt that way.

We share the same Māori mother but have different Pakeha fathers.

I take after Mum with my light brown skin and chestnut hair, while Charlotte takes after her father and is only slightly tanned with blonde hair.

We both have Mum’s hazel eyes and Charlie’s lean green sometimes.

Both of our dads fucked off as soon as they got the chance, and it’s been us three since.

Mum’s not a fan of rugby though, not like Charlie, but she sends texts wishing me luck when she can.

I haven’t heard from her in a few days; she’s on a cruise with her painting friends for the next month and coverage has been spotty.

And I’m hardly going to worry her about whatever’s happening to me when she already hates what rugby can do to your body.

Despite Charlie watching my games from the fancy corporate box the business she works for owns, and only videoing my fails, she’s family, and even if she’s asking questions I don’t want to answer, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So I take a long breath and say, “No. Not really. That’s what I don’t understand. I’m throwing as if I’m injured, but I don’t feel more sore than usual after a game.” I shrug and rub a rough hand over my eyes. “I don’t get it.”

Charlie sits in the cubby beside me. “It’s probably a good idea to let her look at it then. You don’t want to be sidelined for South Africa.”

“No, I don’t.” We’re in the middle of the Rugby Championship and still have our test matches against South Africa and one left with Australia after the game tonight.

I’ve been on the national rugby team for five years, the starting fifteen for two, and I don’t want my stupid shoulder to give up in the middle of the season.

Especially when it can’t even decide if it’s injured or not.

“So let Daisy do her job. Be a good boy and let her fix you, so you don’t come and cry on my couch when they sideline you.”

I glare at Charlie making light of this but notice the concern in her eyes and the rapid tapping of her nails on her knee. I sigh and nod. “Yeah, I’ll see her tomorrow and see what she says.”

“Good.” Charlie stands, holds her hand out to me, and hauls me upright.

“And she’s right, you know, that try in the last second was amazing.

” I shrug again and duck my head. “And being injured doesn’t take that away.

Hemi, you play for the national team. You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”

I sniff against the burning in my nose. “Thanks.” I wrap my arms around her and drag her into a hug.

It’s short-lived, and she pushes me away with a scrunched nose. “You’re all sweaty.”

“The smell of winners.”

“More like stench, but whatever. Am I dropping you home?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, boys, time to cool down and jump in the ice baths,” George, the strength and conditioning coach, yells.

Charlie stares at him and turns to me. “Does his face always go that red?”

“Nah, that’s him cooled down.” His suntanned skin and deep forehead lines do nothing to disguise the angry red he turns when we’re not doing everything to his standard. “You should see him when we’re having a bad training day. He goes purple.”

“Right. I guess I’ll wait around here for you to finish.”

“I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll find something to do.” She scans the room and disappears with a wave.

After I’ve finished for the night, I meet Charlie at the front entrance of the stadium and hope there aren’t any stragglers waiting around for players. I’m too stressed about my shoulder to make it worth their while meeting me. Thankfully, it’s deserted when I see her.

My gear hangs from my shoulder and bashes into my thigh. “You couldn’t have told me you parked in the public area? Thought that fancy box you use has parking.”

Charlie crosses the street when I meet her. “Hah, hah. I’m their personal assistant, not the owner, so I don’t get parking rights. We’re a few streets away.”

I decide not to pick a fight about her parking so far away and wasting time in the changing sheds with the other players, instead of bringing the car around so I don’t have to walk as far.

That would sound ungrateful, and I’m not.

I’m happy she’s here, just tired from the game, and walking through the streets of Mt Eden, in the dark, is not high on my list of things I want to do after a game.

“Find anything to do while you were waiting?” I ask and shove my hands deep into my pockets to avoid the brisk wind.

“I spoke to Alex.”

I stumble on a rock, drop my gear, and catch myself on a hedge. “You what?”

Charlie pauses and scrunches her nose at me clinging to someone’s hedge. “I spoke to Alex.”

“Alex as in my head coach?”

“Yes? What’s the big deal? He looked lonely standing by himself, so I went and spoke to him.”

I gape at her. “He looked lonely? Alex? Lonely? Tall fella with weirdly pale skin and a beard? That Alex?”

“Yes, that Alex. I know who he is, Hemi. I don’t watch your games just for you.” She turns and starts walking, leaving me staring after her, slightly offended. I jog to catch up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I watch the game because I like rugby. That means all the interviews, which means I know who he is.” Charlie tilts her head. “He did look oddly lonely surrounded by everyone.”

“I think you’re confusing loneliness with anger. Pretty sure he’s pissed at us.”

“Why? You won the game.”

I scoff and cross my arms, knowing exactly what Alex will say at the weekly team meeting. “Yeah, through luck. Not through skill or executing the plays correctly.”

“Oh. I suppose it was a messy game.”

“Yep,” I agree, “and that’s not something Alex likes.”

Charlie shrugs. “Well, he was nice.”

My face scrunches. Nice? The head coach, nice? I shake my head and decide I don’t want to know anything else about this topic. It’s too weird thinking about Coach as nice. “That’s…good, I guess.”

We reach Charlie’s car, and she unlocks it and gets in the front while I load the boot of her car with my gear and get in the passenger side.

When we’re halfway to my flat in the CBD and I’m finally warm from the heater after playing in the rain, Charlie says, “So this new guy started at work. I think you’ll like him.”

“No, I’m good,” I say quickly before she can get on a roll.

“But you’ll like him! He reads those fantasy books you love, and he hates rugby.”

I roll my eyes and watch the side of her face as she drives. The windscreen wipers scrape rain away, and streetlights dance on her face. “He hates rugby?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t even know who the captain is.” She parks outside my building and turns to me. “He’s cute,” she sings.

“Poor Suli, his feelings will be hurt if I go out with someone who doesn’t know him.

” I’m seriously grasping at straws here.

Our captain Suli wouldn’t care if no one knew him as long as he could play rugby.

He’s the tallest on the team, with broad shoulders, a black beard, rich brown skin, and dark eyes that know everything.

There’s a reason I’m avoiding him as well as the coaches. And medical staff.

“No, he won’t. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t give him your number.” Charlie crosses her arms and raises her brows at me.

“Because I don’t want you to,” I say simply. That’s a good enough reason and probably why she hasn’t already set it up.

“Fine. But why won’t you go out with someone?”

“Just because the world knows I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to flaunt it in front of everyone in the sports world who is still shitty. Not when I have a meeting with Daisy and we’re in the middle of the championship.” I heave a sigh, and my shoulders slump.

What I would give to have someone waiting for me at home after a game so I could collapse in their arms and fall asleep.

But we’re in the middle of the season, and everyone may know I’m gay, but that doesn’t mean I want interviews about my dating life added to the ridiculous comments I get from some people.

It’s easy to brush off, but I really don’t want anyone else dragged into it, not unless I intend to marry them and think we’ll survive the invasion of privacy.

As soon as someone on the team starts dating someone, everyone needs to know who it is, and if it was me?

The gay Māori boy with a partner, the interest would double, and to be honest?

I cannot be bothered dealing with it. It’s easier being alone.

To go upstairs and drink a beer while I read a book instead of attempting to date as a local gay celebrity.

I’ve been out my whole life. I didn’t even think telling Mum about the crush I had on a boy in school was weird.

The rugby world has known the entire time, and for the most part, there have been minimal issues.

And issues that do pop up, slurs on the field or whatever, are handled quickly and quietly by the team and coaches.

But that doesn’t stop the interest in my dating life.

“Fine. What about after the championship?”

“Then we have the Northern Tour.”

Charlie huffs. “When the season’s over, will you consider going out with someone?”

“You aren’t dating anyone either. Why is it different for me?”

“Because no one will set me up, and I know everyone at work. Will you consider it?”

I roll the idea around in my head. After the season, I won’t have to do interviews or be around the media, so I’ll have more privacy.

Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, it could be fun to spend the off-season with someone so I do more than just train and read.

“Fine, I’ll consider it.” I stick my tongue out at her when she screams excitedly.

“Why are you so excited? I’ve dated before. He can’t be that great.”

“I’m excited for you to have someone. Someone who gets you.”

“What about you? You aren’t excited for the same thing?” I don’t understand what makes me so special when she’s as alone as I am in the significant other department.

“The difference is I wouldn’t push someone away if they wanted me, but you would. There’s always a reason.” Charlie purses her lips.

I drag a hand through my hair and wish I’d gotten out of the car as soon as she put it in park. “So? Maybe I’m happy being alone. Besides, I have friends. You don’t need a partner for fulfilment.”

“Obviously not, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun.” Charlie grins at me. “So you’ll do it? Go on a date with Derek after the season?”

“His name’s Derek?”

I must make a face because Charlie hits my arm. “What’s wrong with that?”

I shake my head and widen my eyes innocently. “Nothing! Just sounds like a fucking Barbie prince.”

Charlie sighs wistfully. “The best one, too.”

I scowl at her. “You better not be setting this up because his name is your favourite prince from when you were four.”

“I’m not…mostly.” Charlie laughs. “I promise you have hobbies in common even if rugby isn’t one of them.”

“I don’t need someone I’m dating to think they know rugby because they played in school and give me tips after a game.” I only made that mistake once.

“Good. I’ll set it up in a few months. Good luck with Daisy.”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over to give her a quick hug. “Thanks for dropping me off and watching.”

“Always.”

“See you later.” I wave at her as I haul my gear into the lobby of my apartment building and watch her drive away, taking the calm with her.

Without Charlie to distract me, all the anxiety comes back and churns in my stomach.

I ignore my trembling hand as I punch the button for floor eight. It’s going to be okay.

Everything is fine. I’m not injured, and I’ll be able to play in South Africa.

The reassurance doesn’t last long, and despite playing most of the game and exhaustion rippling through my body, it takes a long time to fall asleep.