“I was happy with you,” Luke fired back instantly. “I was really happy with you.”
“You can be happy with someone else who’s far better than I am.”
“I’d give you a second chance, you know, if you wanted it. I think, well, I was going to tell you I loved you and then all this happened and I just feel like we’re still young and we could get past this, you know? People cheat early on in their relationships all the time and it works out in the end.”
“No.” It hadn’t meant to come out quite that blunt, but I shook my head profusely. “No, I can’t. Our relationship really just wasn’t working for me, that’s why I cheated in the first place. I do like you, Luke, but we need to just go our separate ways.”
Being in a relationship with someone when I spent all my time pining after someone else wasn’t going to work. Because I did like Luke, we got on great, but he was a friend not a boyfriend. Of course that was impossible now, but in another lifetime me, him and Emma would have been the perfect trio.
Now, I had to be the dickhead that turned him down because I’d fallen for a guy I could never have.
Luke didn’t look overly surprised by my response, and I supposed that was a good thing. “Who is it?” He asked instead, folding his arms against the cold wind and staring me down. He was miserable and I wished there was a good answer I could give him.
“You don’t know them.”
“I want a name.”
I stared at him, somehow forgetting that this kind of confrontation was inevitable. I hadn’t planned out anything when I’d shouted at him that I cheated on Saturday night. Had forgotten that the most sensible option was to sit down and explain that I didn’t think we were compatible, rather than telling him the truth.
Now I had to answer this question without drawing any suspicion towards Mr. Lane. Not that there should have been any, really. Aside from Saturday night we’d never spoken a word to each other in a public setting. “You don’t need a name. Why does it even matter if you don’t know him?”
“I just… have to know.”
“No, I’m worried you’d do something to hurt him,” that seemed as good an excuse as any. And Luke could never make me tell him, anyway. Footsteps and light chatter reached my ears and that was my cue to leave. “I really have to go Luke, I’m so sorry it all worked out like this. I really never meant it to, at all.”
Luke was angry about my refusal to tell him, but he at least had the decency to let me go before the girls reached us. “I’ll see you around then, I guess.”
“See you around.”
I left the scene with a heavy heart, once again having to shove the thought of going to Mr. Lane’s house from my brain.
I got as far as opening the text message with his name on before kicking myself out of it.
I could be alone and I could be fine about it… eventually.
Chapter Eight
I hung back, burying my head in my bag to check I’d gotten everything. Part of me hoped I’d forgotten something and it was my excuse not to play. My coach had guilt-tripped me into it in the end and now the day had come, I was actually feeling marginally better.
The gossip had at least slowed down and moved onto more interesting things. The rest of my team was still unimpressed with my play, but it had definitely gotten better in the two weeks of hard practise we’d done.
But so had everyone else and so I still wasn’t even close to being on a level with them. I’d gone so far as to install a badminton net in my back garden so I could at least practise serving to perfection. Now I just had to make sure my nerves didn’t stop me performing.
I blinked when the door of the minivan type vehicle was slammed behind me. It was more like a taxi than a minivan and I wondered where on Earth they’d found it. Either way, there were only four seats and my coach had sat in the back to discuss strategy.
When I reluctantly opened the front door, I blinked once more. “What are you doing here?”
“The school needed a teacher to chaperone you and one that had a license to drive you. So here I am,” Mr. Lane tapped the steering wheel whilst I strapped myself in.
This was the last thing I’d wanted.
The smile he offered me as I buckled in was almost neutral, but I still overanalysed it. I couldn’t tell whether he was angry, sad, or he just felt nothing when he looked at me. Perhaps his attraction had faded already. Maybe he’d realised what I had and decided I wasn’t worth it.
I nodded. “Oh, cool.” Was just about all I could manage in response. He’d volunteered and he’d known I was going to be here.
It felt oddly private in the front of the taxi-thing. There was a plastic divider that blocked out most of the noise from where the rest of my team was and Mr. Lane hadn’t put the radio on. It was just the two of us, really, though I was sure we wouldn’t dare to talk about anything incriminating anyway.
It was the closest I’d been to him in two weeks and I could already feel the response as I wrestled with myself not to just stare at his perfect face.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
I absolutely minded. I’d forbidden any of my family ever coming to watch my badminton games – the pressure of that would make me play worse and so Mr. Lane being here was probably going to be a complete disaster.
Mr. Lane wasn’t my family, he was just a really, really hot guy who’d I’d fucked and was also my teacher. Him standing on the sidelines and watching was going to be the biggest distraction I could think of.
“It’s fine,” the reluctance in my voice was beyond obvious and Oscar shot me a concerned sideways glance.
“You really hate me that much?”
My cheeks burned. “No, no of course not. I don’t hate you at all, or even close to it. I’m just embarrassed you’re going to be watching me play.”
“Oh, right, why? You were picked for the team. You’re obviously good.”
“I was picked for the team because their first choice is in hospital,” I muttered, glad he at least hadn’t picked up on their hostility quite yet. “I’m really not very good at all and I get all nervous. It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I didn’t sound the slightest bit convincing.
“I can just stay in the van if you’d rather, I don’t want to put you off or anything.”
I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the road country road we were driving down. We’d only been driving for less than ten minutes, but I already didn’t realise where we were. “That’s okay. You may as well watch, maybe it’ll be more motivating than I think.”
Mr. Lane nodded once and we settled into an awkward silence. He didn’t look like he hated me and I had no idea why he wanted to come and watch me play badminton, but I tried to put it from my mind. He’d just returned to the professional teacher and that was that.
We’d ended our tryst and there wasn’t even anything to overthink.
“How have you been holding up? I heard all the chattering that’s been going off.”
I shrugged. “It’s died down now. It got better when Emma finally came back to school.”
Mr. Lane nodded. “Well, good. I worried.”
My lips lifted into a smile and the murmured “thank you,” had left my lips before I even realised. That didn’t sound like it had come from someone who harboured zero romantic feelings.
I had to really bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself making conversation and it wasn’t an urge I normally had. But, if we started talking and laughing like we had the night I’d stayed for dinner, then it would surely be obvious that I cared.
I needed to be aloof.
It wasn’t long before we were dissolved into fits of giggles over some stupid story I’d told him. My normal life might be boring, but my nights out always had some drama and they were my go to for stories. “It was hilarious, honestly. Emma was just stood there with kebab all down this brand new dress and the girl who’d done it looked terrified.”
Mr. Lane chuckled at the wheel, his c
heeks rosy from all the laughter. “Some of my uni stories are the best. I had this friend who was really into drugs, he was doing anything he could get his hands on all the time and a few of those times he went really bat-shit crazy.”
I listened eagerly, bouncing my bare legs up and down in anticipation. I longed to know things about Mr. Lane, to know what he’d done through his life and what he wanted to do with it in the future.
“Well, this one night he’s done something trippy, I still don’t know what, and he’s just zoning out on the sofa. We’re playing Xbox, with the sound nice and low so we don’t disturb and he suddenly breaks out into fits of giggles. He’s just sat there, in hysterics, looking like he’s trying to bash something off him. And then he screams, “please, no more tickling, I can’t take it!” and we’re pissing ourselves watching.” He shook his head now with an amused smile. “I still have no idea what possessed him to do that stuff, half the time it seemed like he was having a miserable time.”
I chuckled. “Hopefully I’ll make some interesting friends at uni. I’m going pretty far away, it’s going to be weird.”
I’d started to regret going somewhere nearly four hours away now my parents were probably splitting up. They’d not spoken a word to each other in the past two weeks, not even argued, and I hated it. They’d supposed to be fine when I went to uni because they had each other, but now I was sure I’d need to be around and I couldn’t afford train tickets every weekend.
“I’m sure you will do. Uni is a lot of fun. What are you studying?”
“Literature, as long as I get the grades.” I shifted in my seat and bit. I still wasn’t sure what Mr. Lane was doing about my coursework grade and I needed that to even have a chance at my chosen university. I’d only earnt 600 words so far.
“Well, I upped your grade to an A, so you only have exams to worry about now.”
We’d forgone the idea that people could hear us talking through the partition long ago – we definitely couldn’t hear them, even if we strained, so we were certain we were fine to talk at will – but I still felt a little bit uncomfortable talking about it. “Oh, cool. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I know you just stuffed it up, anyway. Your other work has all been really good.”
I’d just seen a sign for the town where the tournament was being held and so all the jokes fell from my lips. I really wasn’t ready for this, at all. Mr. Lane picked up on my nerves almost instantly. “You’ll be fine,” he assured me with a carefree manner. It would have been easier to believe him if he’d actually seen me play before. “Besides, it’s only a tournament. Not everyone can win.”
“But they probably could win if they had someone better playing my position.”
Mr. Lane sighed and I jumped when I felt his arm on my bare thigh. Our badminton uniform had always been far too revealing. “How do you know that? You haven’t seen how good any of the teams you’re facing are yet. Just go out there and play your best, it’s all you can do.”
The heat soaked into me from his hand and spread through my body. It was impossible not to imagine his lips on mine, his hands sliding upwards slightly to slip underneath my panties. The clear plastic at the back of my head only made this exchange even hotter.
“I suppose so.” It was a benign sentence, but my tone was what really spoke to Mr. Lane. He gave me a sideways glance and his fingers tightened. I shut my eyes, hoping he’d do it. He could finger me, get me off in the front of this van and no one would ever notice. I spread my legs further, urging him to go for it, but unfortunately we pulled into the car park of the tournament grounds before we could go any further.
So now I was a big mess of nerves and desire and I wasn’t sure his gesture had helped at all.
My cheeks were so flushed I was reluctant to even leave the vehicle, but I was forced to and luckily no one was paying me any attention anyway. I buried my head in my bag, checking I definitely still had my bottle of water, and trailed behind the rest of my team as they strode onto the courts.
The sports hall was bigger than any I’d ever seen before, but that was kind of unsurprising considering the private school I’d just driven into. People were paying up to eight grand a year for this place – I’d googled it, out of sheer curiosity – which was more than my mum earnt in a year. It made me a little bit angry, really.
Everyone was huddled in their little groups, discussing strategies and looking altogether confident. I’d always thought we looked the neatest and pretty well put-together when we played matches against local school, but we were a rag-tag bunch compared to these lot. Our uniforms looked cheap, whereas everyone else was wearing professional kit.
I smoothed down my rubbed up skirt and took a sip of my water. Even my standard plastic water bottle felt a little bit inferior here.
We gathered in an empty space and attempted to gather ourselves. I felt better by the nerves I saw in everyone else’s faces, too. I wasn’t the only one completely overwhelmed just by being here. “We are going to crush these snobby little bitches into the ground,” Lorna sneered, not bothering to hide the disdain from her gaze as she observed the room.
I stood to the side a bit, picking at the binding on my racket, and trying not to get too worked up. At least there was definitely no expectation on us here. We were good in our area, but there was surely no way we could compete with these people. They looked like they’d been doing it their entire lives.
“Damn right we will,” our coach brought out the schedule. “Now, I’ve explained how the method of play works once, but it’s easier with the schedule in front of us. You’ll play six matches, two for each pairing. It’s easy to understand because you’ve all got a number,” she handed us stickers, “and the umpire will check before each match.”
It did sound simple enough. “We can do this,” Lorna was really trying to pump us up, but there were relatively forlorn faces all around. It was amazing how much appearances could sap confidence. “Now let’s go and warm up.”
We jogged up and down the court we were on and then did some stretches and mobility exercises. There wasn’t any time to actually warm up with some practise games like normal, which felt out of place. I’d normally at least had a whack-around with the shuttlecock before getting shoved straight onto the court.
Actually doing some exercise at least made me feel a little bit less lethargic. I spotted Mr. Lane staring at me one time, or rather, staring at my boobs as I jogged up and down. I hadn’t felt the need to run with my hands under my chest to stop them bouncing since doing PE with thirteen year old boys in my class.
A bell echoed around the hall and everyone hushed up. I cringed when my bottle made a loud creaking sound where I’d been fidgeting with it as we walked back to our huddle.. The woman who must have been running the tournament tapped her microphone. “Welcome, everyone, to the Derbyshire Badminton tournament. We’ve got seven sixth forms competing here today, and I’m sure there’s going to be a very high standard of play. Keep it nice, girls! And good luck to everybody competing. Matches begin in five minutes.”
Talking resumed immediately and echoed around the hall, but our camp was silent. Our coach fixed us with worried glances, before initiating a huddle like some of the other girls did. It felt quite ridiculous. “Listen, these girls look down on you and they don’t expect you to accomplish anything, but we already beat some people like this to get here. You know we can do it. You’re good at the game. Believe in yourselves and play some good matches.”
I was very relieved she didn’t make us do some kind of chant.
I turned to my partner, Millie, for the first two matches. Her face became even more despondent when she realised who she was playing with. “We’ll just have to do our best,” she muttered.
“Shouldn’t we at least try and have some kind of strategy?”
Millie shrugged. “Try and let me hit most of them. I’m pretty fast, so I can get to a few on your side of the court as well. Just hit safe shots, don’t try and do
anything fancy.”
“Okay,” I took a final sip of my water before dropping it at the side of the court and focusing my attention on fidgeting with the racket instead. I let Millie deal with the coin toss, whilst I hovered around and attempted to swing my racket. I felt a bit silly and stopped, bouncing on my heels instead. That was something people did in the professional matches.
Our opponents were in a hushed conversation, their bodies entirely still and confident. Everything about their body language screamed experience and I wanted to quake. Every so often they stole glances at us and I could have sworn their lips lifted in a smirk.
Well, that was one way to get under someone’s skin, and I was stupid enough to fall for it.
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