CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
KAYLAH
I hate to believe in something just to find out that I was wrong.
But I’m starting to think that things might be turning around for me.
I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that I aired out my business to the whole team, because I was trying to help Sierra solely and it was worth it to say whatever was going to do the trick.
Since then, I’ve been receiving more passes during games than I can count, and I’m finally getting the recognition I deserve for my contribution to the goals we’ve been scoring.
But nothing looks like recognition more than the dinner I’m finding myself at tonight.
I had to do a double take when Tamarah’s message come through on my phone earlier this week.
We’re celebrating our Captains on Saturday night guys at Tontor Restaurant. Make sure you’re there!
It had only been a few days of me unmuting the group chat as a test to myself, but her message and the subsequent excited messages from everyone on the team encouraged me to keep it unmuted.
Now we’re wrapping up at Tontor, and it’s definitely been a good night.
Julius and I sit on opposite sides of the table, but while my gaze naturally finds his from time to time, I’m getting the impression his haven’t been fixated on much else but me.
There’s a message in them, and I get it. I’ve been avoiding him since he heard me bare my soul out to Sierra which is obviously a whole task of its own when we live in the same house.
But things between us were never meant to be serious in the first place.
They were never meant to be anything, but then we were roommates, and then we were co-captain and then we were all over each other when no one else was looking.
And now he knows my secrets and I feel more naked than I ever did when he was the one taking my clothes off, so the only thing that felt like an option was for me to escape his clutches and any efforts of conversation from him in the hopes it would make me feel less exposed.
But with his eyes firmly on me, it’s not working as well as I hoped it would.
“How has your night been?” Tamarah slides into the seat beside me after swapping with someone else.
“It’s been good, thank you so much for planning it.”
“You definitely don’t have to thank me. I was gonna say it was also my way of apologising for how rude I was to you for a while there, but then I realised I should actually say the words. So I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, and I’m sorry too because I honestly never meant to make anyone feel bad.”
She shifts in her seat. “It’s not that a lot of us felt some type of way because we wanted to be Captain because trust me, I’m happy without it.
But…I’m not gonna lie, the way you came in out of nowhere and was suddenly awarded with the position of Captain, I just assumed that you were some rich kid whose parents paid to make that happen. ”
“I mean, I guess I am the kid of a rich person, but I don’t have access to my mum’s money because she cut me off,” I say, my mind going back to the tumultuous relationship we’ve always had that culminated when I went to university last year and stopped taking her calls.
I explain, “I have a Scholarship from an external organisation and they actually seemed to believe the story I told, and they factored my diagnoses of depression and anxiety into consideration, and they didn’t drop the Scholarship like I was worried they would.
But a lot of universities didn’t want to take me on because of what they heard, but I guess they believed in my skills here.
But it’s because of my mum that this whole thing is kept quiet between all these Universities anyway.
So in that sense, I guess you could say I have privilege.
” I know some would see it that way, but others may be able to sympathise with the phone call I’m forced to take every two weeks, as a way of “thanking” her for making it go away.
“But it’s not a privilege to not have a traumatic experience broadcast to the world,” Tamarah says and it heals something in me.
I think it myself sometimes but it’s nice to know I’m not delusional.
“Then why does it feel like it is?” I say.
There’s a sad look on her face as she says, “This is what I mean.” She pauses. “I judged you too quickly and too harshly and I’m truly sorry about that. Honestly, I should just mind my business.”
“I’m not holding a grudge at all,” I tell her honestly.
I’m surprised to hear her say, “I really do hope we can be friends,” but it’s nothing I would say no to.
“I would like that,” I nod.
I don’t ask about Sierra, because I know there’s a lot going on in that area right now, and I doubt anything would have been resolved in the week that has passed since her revelation.
But her voice that was full of fear has remained ingrained in my mind for the full week. A few people on the team are angry, but most feel sorry for her, and I’m one of them, because pressure is a bitch.
When I get home, I see a figure resting against the wall next to Julius’s room, and it doesn’t take me long to figure out that it’s him. I can unfortunately recognise those thick thighs even in the dark.
“Why are you just standing there?” I ask him.
“I wanted to see which creative way you would avoid me even when I’m right in front of you,” he says as he turns the light on. I could use this chance to run, but then he says, “It’s getting kind of funny.”
I sense the hurt in his tone and decide to stay put.
“What makes you think I’m avoiding you?” I say, but quickly add, “Okay, I’m avoiding you.”
“I don’t even care about that,” he says.
“But you just made a big point about it.”
“Can you come in here with me, please?” He gestures to his room and although I’m tempted to keep running, like that’s a good way of dealing with my issues, I nod and follow him in. Despite all that’s happened, the warmth and comfort that blankets me whenever I enter his room is a constant.
He crouches down and sits against his bed, an expectant look in his eyes as he watches me.
After a few moments, I get comfortable next to him, loving the smells around me that make up him.
“I made a big point about the avoiding thing because I just wanted to at least be able to ask you if you’re okay and find out the honest answer,” he says, and it’s easy to notice how strained his voice sounds. “I’ve been going out of my mind not…not knowing.”
Why does my heart feel like it’s doing backflips?
“Oh. I’m…why is that question so hard to answer?”
“When was the last time you were asked it?”
Trying to trace it back, I conclude, “I have no idea.”
He nods and all I can notice is the distance between us right now. For once, it’s a gap I feel like closing. “Do you feel awkward about the fact I know what happened at your old university?”
My response is instant. “Definitely.”
I don’t know when I registered the look that crosses his face when he’s in deep thought, but it’s all that surrounds him right now as silence drenches over us in this bedroom.
“When I was sixteen, I went to a party with school friends and was too drunk to come home so I called my dad to pick me up,” he begins, my initial shock linked to the fact he went to a party at school.
“He got hit by a car on his way there and that ruined his chances of continuing his successful Hockey career. I hitch a breath. “I always wanted to be like him and that event pushed me even further to lock in on Hockey, even to my detriment. It’s what I’m most ashamed about and the reason why I can be so weird about this shit, like coming here in the summer holidays before term has started, just to practice on the ice everyday.
” It feels like puzzle pieces are finally clicking into place.
“I’m not saying it’s similar to your situation in the sense that you have something to be ashamed about because you absolutely don’t, but I think you know that I understand you in a way no one else does.
” It’s what scares me the most. “We both find it uncomfortable to have our lives and feelings laid bare for others to see and judge, and…listen, I’ll go send this in the group chat if you want me to, but it still wouldn’t make me as brave as you for revealing what you did in front of the whole team because you wanted to resonate with one person. ”
I take his hand into mine. I’ve been running away from him for a while, and now I need to show him that I’m here to stay. “Wow. I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” I say.
“Thank you. He’s a good man.”
“Who surely doesn’t blame you, does he?”
“No, I’m the only one who does.”
I stay focused on him, but I can’t help it as my thoughts wander back to the both of us who met that summer day. It was like looking into a mirror when I immediately gathered that he wasn’t the emotional kind, and now it’s like looking into a mirror again as we both have laid our emotions down.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I tell him, knowing that his cheery mum and brother have probably said the same thing to him over the years, and hoping that one day he’ll finally start to see the truth in it.
“It might be better for me if I start to believe that. Can I ask you something about what happened?”
I suck in a breath. “Yeah, sure.”
He rubs his thumb on my hand in a soothing motion and it’s not long before I feel safe enough to speak.
“It’s an open question. Anything you want to tell me or not tell me.
There’s…one question I do have. Does your mum think it was your fault?
But again, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. ”