Chapter 24
24
The sun blazes down over us as we all gather in the empty field next to the villa.
It’s one of those perfect days where the breeze not only feels good but it smells amazing too. It almost makes it feel worth it, being out here with a bunch of annoying boys who clearly have no idea about the concept of boundaries and just general human decency.
It is, unfortunately, their turn to pick a round of the competition, and whatever they have chosen is currently being hidden behind Owen’s back. God only knows what it’s going to be. Oh, no, wait a minute, it’s golf. I can see a golf club. Ugh, I almost preferred not knowing, because I am not a sporty girl at all. I could probably throw the club further than I could hit the ball.
Owen and Harry are radiating the kind of smugness that only comes from someone who knows they’ve got the upper hand. Owen adjusts the brim of his cap, looking every bit the part of a golf pro – or a wannabe pro, at least – while Harry starts lining up invisible shots, with an invisible club, except he looks more like he’s auditioning for Happy Gilmore 2 than he does a serious player. It’s a truly ridiculous sight, and yet I can’t enjoy it, because I am going to suck at this.
‘Right,’ Owen says, clapping his hands together with the authority of a self-appointed… referee? Umpire? What do they even have in golf?
‘Today’s round is simple: we’re doing a driving competition. Whoever hits the ball the furthest wins. Easy.’
Harry steps forward to take a club and a ball, and he has the kind of smug grin on his face that kind of makes you want to pick up a club and wrap it around him.
‘Okay, ladies, I’ll give you a quick demo so you know what you’re up against,’ he tells us ‘kindly’.
He drops the ball down and pretends to swing at it, to show us how it’s done.
‘Wow, thanks, Harry,’ Nita says sarcastically. ‘We’d be lost without your expertise. Please, tell us more about how to dramatically swing a club and miss the ball entirely.’
Harry just winks at her.
‘I bet they’re not half as good as they think they are,’ Nita whispers to me.
Here’s hoping.
Owen, raring to go, ignores her sassiness as he lines up golf balls on the grass.
‘To minimise the embarrassment, each team gets four shots, but you can choose which person or people take them,’ he explains. ‘Whoever has the team member that drives the ball the longest distance wins the round. Simple. Fair. Let’s do it!’
My teammates don’t look so jazzed… except Willow. I can already see the cogs turning in Willow’s head, like she might have an idea.
‘I’ll take all four shots for us,’ she suggests. ‘There’s no point in us all doing it.’
‘Fair enough,’ Owen says with a laugh.
‘Well, I’m shit at golf, so I’m happy to give up my shot,’ Travis says.
‘Yeah, I’ll spectate too,’ Nolan adds.
‘But can you guys go first?’ Willow asks. ‘So I can at least watch you, to learn how it’s done. I’ve never played golf before.’
Harry shrugs.
‘Why not,’ he says. ‘Owen and I are actually getting really into golf so, when we saw the clubs in the shed, we knew it would be an easy win. Just watch how it’s done.’
Owen and Harry step up, their swagger unbearable. Owen goes first, his stance looking almost ridiculously professional, like this is the PGA Tour, and this could be his winning shot. He takes his swing, and the ball flies cleanly through the air, landing impressively (to me, at least) far, at the other side of the field.
‘Is that any good?’ I ask cheekily.
‘Is that good?’ Owen replies, almost offended. ‘Er, yeah, that’s good.’
‘This will be better,’ Harry says, like he’s Tiger Woods or something.
He hits his ball as hard as he can and, while it veers significantly to the left, it does still go quite far.
‘That still counts as a good shot,’ he assures us. ‘And they were just our warm-up shots. These next two are the winners.’
Sure enough, they hit their second shots further than their first ones. Well, who didn’t see that coming?
‘Right, your turn,’ Owen tells Willow, looking far too pleased with himself. ‘If you even make contact with the ball we’ll be impressed. Honestly, don’t sweat it.’
Willow steps up, grabbing a club, lining up her shot, and exhaling deeply.
‘Here we go,’ she says.
The boys all snigger behind her, kind of rudely, but as soon as she swings their laughter disappears almost as fast as the ball does.
It soars through the air like it’s got a rocket attached to it, sailing past Owen’s ball – the furthest for the boys’ team.
‘What the…’ Owen’s voice trails off in disbelief, his jaw hanging ever so slightly.
‘You expect us to believe that’s beginner’s luck?’ Harry says quickly, but his voice is shaky, and definitely loaded with accusation.
Willow doesn’t even acknowledge them; she’s already setting up her next shot.
‘Obviously you’ve won, and you don’t need to hit any more,’ Owen points out, thoroughly annoyed.
‘Oh, I know, it’s just fun,’ she tells them. ‘And I really haven’t ever played before.’
Nita bursts out laughing, clapping her hands together like she’s in the front row of a concert.
‘Willow, you’re amazing!’ she tells her. ‘How? How are you so amazing?’
‘I know,’ Willow replies with a smile, curtseying playfully. ‘I played hockey in school. I was really good at it – they called me Willow Tree, because I was so freakishly strong. I still love any sport where you get to hit things.’
She smiles at the boys.
Nita grins.
‘I feel similarly… around certain people,’ she adds, flashing Harry a smug yet dirty look.
‘So you played hockey?’ Owen says. ‘I mean, you should have disclosed that. That’s not fair.’
‘You never mentioned that you played golf,’ I point out.
‘Yeah but, I guess, in the spirit of the competition, we’re all going to pick the things we’re good at, right?’ Travis points out. ‘So we probably would have picked something else, if we’d known.’
‘Well, isn’t that just tough luck,’ I reply. ‘Better luck next time.’
He smiles at me. I think he’s enjoying the playful sparring.
‘Sorry,’ Willow says, without a hint of sincerity. ‘I guess it just never came up.’
‘So that’s 1-1,’ Lou says, grinning wider than I’ve seen in ages. ‘Looks like this competition just got interesting.’
‘Yeah,’ Owen replies, looking back and forth between Willow and where her ball landed. ‘We’ll just have to up our game.’
‘Loser has to get the balls,’ Nita says. ‘Owen, Harry, I guess that’s you two.’
As we all head back to the villa, Travis and Nolan walk with us. Nolan dares to reach out, to grab Willow’s bicep. He gives a squeeze.
‘Amazing,’ he says. ‘You’d never know they were so powerful.’
‘Careful,’ Travis warns him. ‘She could launch you into the pool from here.’
As we near the gate to the villa, I notice Travis hang back a little, slowing down, almost like he’s trying to synchronise his walking pace with mine.
‘I wonder if we’ll have to go head to head on anything,’ he says.
‘Well, I’m glad it won’t be golf, because I wouldn’t have been able to compete,’ I reply.
‘Nah, me neither,’ he says. ‘More of a football guy – watching it, mainly.’
‘And yet that somehow makes you marginally more athletic than me, so congrats,’ I tell him with a laugh.
‘Oi,’ Nita ticks me off. ‘No fraternising with the enemy.’
‘Sorry, my mum says I have to go in now,’ I joke.
‘Well, we wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your mum,’ he replies through a smile.