Three Hundred Words

by Cross, Adelaide

  Mr. Lane was incredibly conscious of the fact we were in school. He looked so desperately like he wanted to hug me, but both of us held back. He offered a sincere “I’m sorry,” instead.

  I shrugged. “Nothing you can do about it. Nothing anyone can do about it. My dad was a dick who cheated on my mum. That’s all there is to it.”

  Just like I was a dick who’d cheated on my boyfriend. There was no hiding that I was just as bad as him. “You’re not just as bad as him.” Mr. Lane read my thoughts. It must have been all over his face. “You’d been going out with Luke for less than six months. It’s not the same.” His voice was such a low whisper I could barely hear him.

  I shrugged again, letting my shoulders fall flat. I didn’t believe that for a moment. Cheating on someone was always bad, no matter when in the relationship it happened. Still, there was no point in arguing it somewhere we might get caught, so I let the topic drop.

  I let the conversation dissipate entirely by putting my earbuds in and curling myself into a ball. Raising my knees to my head and wrapping my arms around myself, I effectively shut everyone out, including him.

  My music blasted out and I was left to wallow in white noise.

  My parents were leaving each other.

  When someone tapped me on the shoulder I jumped, looking up and realising that my entire team had arrived, coach included. I’d hoped the redness around my eyes had faded, but given the way everyone was looking at me, I apparently still looked like a complete mess.

  They knew exactly what my performance was going to be like today.

  I dragged myself to my feet and turned off my music, noting with a cringe how loud it had been. That had probably been incredibly annoying. I didn’t listen to any of the pep talk our coach was giving, even though half of it was about weaknesses we should be looking out for. I wouldn’t be much use, anyway.

  Because I had drastically improved. I’d really worked hard at it, every day, and I knew I’d gotten better. And now this inevitable bombshell was enough to crush all that hard work and render it useless.

  I could barely stand up, never mind play a game.

  The only time I really came to life was when we walked towards the cars. This time, I took the lead, making sure I got the car that Mr. Lane wasn’t driving. I just wanted to sit in the back with my headphones in and ignore the world, not feel pressured into talking to the man constantly on my mind.

  My team mates grimaced at me, before one of them decided that Mr. Lane was pretty hot, maybe travelling with him could be fun.

  I tried to block that out and took my seat in the back of the car.

  “Are you feeling okay?” My coach checked before I’d been allowed to shove my headphones in. “You’re looking rough.”

  That was definitely a flattering way of putting it. “Fine, just some family stuff. Hopefully it won’t make me play too badly. I’m just going to try and sleep, anyway, if that’s okay.” It was a four hour drive down to London and there was no way I could stay awake for that long.

  I’d been kept up until the early hours listening to my parents’ shouting.

  “Oh, no problem. I’ll wake you up when we get there if you’ve managed to sleep.”

  I didn’t bother to fake a smile since she couldn’t see me. “Thanks.”

  And it was surprisingly quickly that I fell into a restless sleep. The morning had been horribly draining so far, even if I’d not done anything physical yet.

  ***

  I woke up feeling nice and refreshed physically and still completely drained mentally. The first thing on my mind when I woke up was the fact my parents were officially splitting up and it stayed that way as we pulled into the gates of a very posh school.

  They were wrought iron gates, covered in gorgeous ivy, and letting us into a compound walled off by ten feet high bricks and barbed wire. It went from a dreary exterior to the most beautiful interior I’d ever seen. Cut grass and gorgeous flowers, old building after old building that were probably furnished to perfection.

  Going to school here must have seemed like living in a dream.

  Right now it just felt intimidating. At any other date I might have walked around this school in awe, just taking things in, and without the pressure I probably would have enjoyed being here.

  “It’s a pretty place,” my coach admired, having noticed I’d woken up. “I’ve never been here before. Hopefully I’ll be coming for many years after this one.”

  It was likely, coach had done wonders for our team. The rest of the girls already had natural talent, but she’d boosted them to another level. “It is pretty,” I agreed.

  Mr. Lane had probably got here a bit quicker, he tended to drive a bit recklessly from what I’d seen the last time we went to a tournament. I was surprised he’d been allowed to drive us at all – clearly no one had actually gone on a test run with him.

  The car park was heaving when we pulled in and I realised, with horror, why. It wasn’t just that friends and family had come to watch, but there were real stands inside their sports’ hall. This was a proper tournament and there were just fans of the sport coming to see us play.

  I supposed I was silly to think that wasn’t the case when it came to national finals.

  Mr. Lane and the rest of my team were waiting by the back entrance for us and they all looked absorbed in conversation. My jealousy twinged, but I really tried to reign it in. When I’d been reading up on the psychological effects following cheating someone, paranoia had been one of the top ones.

  I really didn’t want to fall prey to those things if I could help it.

  I just had to be strong and focused. Embarrassing myself in front of all those people would be so horrid.

  Coach was quick to start speaking the moment we were all together, ringing off strategies that we should be playing. I made an effort to take it in this time – all the people had scared me silly.

  The girls in the sports hall looked much the same as the ones we’d faced in the county tournament, so at least that wasn’t overly intimidating right now. The stands definitely were. A lot of eyes fell on us when we entered and although the volume was at the same level as before, people were probably talking about us now.

  I kept my gaze on the ground and trailed after my team to a bench where we could leave our rucksacks.

  The national finals was a two day event. Today we played in heats; there were too many teams here for a round robin. Tomorrow, there’d be quarter finals, semi-finals and the finals. Also, a third place match. It was the top three teams who went on to play the European finals.

  The European finals were in Malta. I couldn’t say I was too opposed to the idea of getting there, even if it was pretty unlikely.

  We huddled, but I was swamped with memories of my family once more. My parents had asked if they could come and watch today and I’d actually told them I wouldn’t have minded, but they weren’t here. It was probably far too expensive for them to manage.

  But plenty of families were here, ready to watch their kids play, or just coming for a nice day out to try something different. Plenty of smiling couples in the stands, laughing and joking and not divorcing.

  I sighed and tuned back in to whatever the coach was saying, only to realise the hall had fallen silent. It was time for the same rigmarole of announcing the teams and telling to us have “good games.” I spent that time wondering what my parents were doing right now.

  As soon as I’d left for badminton they’d probably stood up from the sofa and gone their separate ways. House searching, more than likely. Either that or my father was moving in with the stupid whore who he’d slept with. I didn’t really know whether that had been a one night thing, or my dad had actually been having an affair.

  He’d lied about his trip, so I guessed that meant it was really an affair.

  I sighed and scuffed my worn out trainers against the floor, cringing when a screech echoed around the room from them. I didn’t look up to see whether anyone was looking at
me, just let my skin burn with embarrassment instead.

  My first partner was Lorna. When we stepped onto the court I saw the determination in her eyes; it was mirrored in our opponents’ stares, too.

  I wasn’t feeling that. I just felt empty.

  When I served, it was an ace. The girl diagonal had struggled to return my shot, but she just hadn’t managed it.

  I blinked, but was happy to run with it. Perhaps feeling numb inside got rid of my nerves enough for all the practise I’d done to shine through.

  Contrary to mine and Lorna’s first partnership matches two weeks ago, we smashed our opponents into the ground with no mercy. It was only afterwards that our coach let us know they were the worst team here.

  As long as we weren’t the worst, I supposed that was something.

  They were tough matches, but we scraped through at second in our heat, guaranteeing us a place in the draws tomorrow. I hadn’t faltered and I’d really been a factor in these games, scoring winners of my own and helping out my partners.

  At the end, I felt as numb as the beginning. Everyone cheered when the results were read out, and I managed the smallest of smiles. We’d done it, I supposed that was something. And people were rooting for us, as the underdogs. We’d got cheers from the crowd, too.

  I just wanted to go home and for things to be all right again.

  We were staying at a budget hotel a few miles away overnight and I wasn’t completely opposed to just getting home and sleeping. It might have only been 5pm, and I might have already slept in the car on the way here, but I still felt exhausted. Hopefully my bed would be comfy. I’d scraped the extra money out of my saving to have a room to myself tonight, whilst the other girls had decided it would be the perfect night for a sleepover.

  I received several pats on the back before I disappeared into my room and everyone told me I’d played well.

  Normally I would have been over the moon. I’d proven my worth, showed I was a good player if I really put the effort in, and wasn’t being shunned anymore. Instead, I muttered my thanks, that they’d played well too, and shut the door behind me.

  Collapsing into bed, I ignored the pained gargle of my stomach. It was a lot of hours since I’d eaten, but the thought of getting up again was far too painful. Instead, I shut my eyes and tried to ignore the shouting that seeped through the wall right beside my head.

  Groaning, I considered getting up for my headphones, but once again it was too much effort. The people shouting weren’t even falling out about anything worthwhile. I was sure it didn’t matter which one of them had broken the phone charger. You could get them for less than a fiver online.

  When someone knocked on my door, I buried my head in my pillow. I hoped they had some weird cleaning schedule and I could just ask whoever it was to come back later.

  It was Mr. Lane stood on the other side of my door, looking incredibly anxious. I sighed and allowed him entry, just so that he could calm down. If he was caught coming into my room it wouldn’t end well for anyone.

  After the door was shut, I fixed him with a tired stare. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to check you were all right. Or, I kind of came to see if I could cheer you up, I guess.”

  I perched on the edge of my bed and really wished he’d just leave. It was a nice gesture, but not one I appreciated at this very moment. I was tired and sad and not in the mood for company. “I’m really fine.”

  “No, you’re not, you’re really upset.” He took a seat next to me and the bed dipped. My cheeks burned when it almost caused me to fall off. “Look, let’s just sit and chill. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “You shouldn’t be here. If you get caught you’d be fired.”

  Mr. Lane shrugged, leaning back on the bed and dragging me with him. “I’ve never cared before.”

  “Why not?” I fired back immediately. “I could cost you your job. I’m not worth that.” But I still curled into Mr. Lane’s side and rested my head against his chest. Being in his company did just seem to make everything better, even if it was only temporary.

  “Who says you’re not worth that? I’m willing to take the tiny chance that we get caught.”

  “It can’t be that small, not really. If we’re sleeping together and spending time together, people will eventually find out. Isn’t it inevitable?” There were no repercussions for me, so it felt wrong that I continued to fool around with him when I suffered no risk.

  Then again, it was him who kept coming back when I was trying to resist. It wasn’t too surprising I always seemed to give in.

  “We don’t even see each other that often. This is the fourth time and there’s no reason anyone should be in the middle of the countryside down a one-way track or at my house, is there?”

  I considered this. I could deal with just having sex with him. That was fine by me. Fine, apart from the fact I really just kind of liked him and wanted something far more. Fine, apart from the fact I beat myself up every time we were together and knew I probably wasn’t ready to be in any kind of relationship.

  I wasn’t ready, and yet I wanted it so, so badly anyway.

  I was a mess.

  “What do you want out of this relationship? I mean, do you just want to fuck, or do you want to be with me?” Apparently being this miserable got rid of all my inhibitions. I’d played good badminton and finally addressed one of the main issues in mine and Mr. Lane’s relationship.

  There was a long delay before he answered and with each moment I convinced myself that he was wondering how the best way to tell me he only wanted to sleep with me was. He’d no doubt been exaggerating and drunk the night he told me he liked me.

  “I really like you, Lily, and I would like us to be together… but not until the end of the year. I mean, not as a couple, who go out and do things and who see each other every day,” then he cleared his throat and stopped altogether. “I mean, if you were asking because you did want us to be a couple, anyway. If you just want to fuck then I’m fine with that.”

  I smiled, slightly. “I’m going to university in September and it’s far away. I’m not sure I’d want to do long distance.”

  And that killed our conversation.

  There was no getting around the fact I wasn’t going to be anywhere near my home town in six months. Besides, Mr. Lane and I couldn’t be together. There was too much history now. A new start would be better for everyone.

  And I understood why he wanted to wait. It was like he’d said, fucking every now and then meant there was minimal risk of getting caught. Being together increased that chance tenfold.

  “Wouldn’t you want to make the most of a summer together? It would still be three months.”

  I should have said no. If I agreed to spend time with him during the summer, then saying goodbye would be impossible. I’d already fallen for him and that was having only spent such a limited amount of time together. If we were actually together for three months I’d probably be tempted to just skip university to keep our relationship intact.

  Granted, those three months went the way I imagined, anyway.

  “I guess it’s worth a shot.” It was a particularly enthusiastic response, but the way I tightened my grip told Mr. Lane everything he needed to know.

  I couldn’t see his face from this position, but I imagined a big smile across his face. “Good.”

  The high from our agreement didn’t last long. I returned to my lethargic state in no time, sighing into Mr. Lane’s chest and wondering how long it was going to take me to get used to the fact my parents weren’t together anymore. The last two weeks had been nigh on unbearable, maybe if they weren’t under the same roof anymore things would actually be easier.

  “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  His thumb rubbed soothing shapes into my arm, but it didn’t get rid of my urge to cry. I sniffled once before reigning it in.

  I hadn’t cried yet and I wasn’t about to. I could
get through this just fine.

  My stomach rumbled again and my cheeks burned. “You’re hungry?”

  “I’m kind of starving,” I admitted. “But there isn’t a restaurant or anything in this hotel and I really don’t have the effort to go out and eat. Do you reckon you can order pizza to a hotel?”

  Mr. Lane shrugged. “May as well ring up and ask? I’m pretty starving, too. Actually, I’ll do it.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ve got my card.”

  I listened to Mr. Lane ordering our pizza after confirming that I just wanted pepperoni with a quirk at the corner of my lips. I almost wanted to be sad, I felt like should be sad, and so Mr. Lane’s amusing company dragging chuckles from my lips was almost unwelcome.