Game On

Home > Other > Game On > Page 22
Game On Page 22

by Kyra Lennon


  Smiling, I wiped a tear from her cheek. “That is something to look forward to.”

  Jesse was waiting patiently for his turn to say goodbye, and my heart broke a little more as I looked into his eyes.

  “Don’t you look at me like that,” I said. “You have a whole lifetime to make girls cry, don’t start with me!”

  He managed to flash me his familiar, laddish grin, even though he was visibly upset. He wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t think it’s very cool for me to cry, so I’ll try not to. But you were my first real friend on the team. And you helped me so many times, with so many things. Thank you.”

  “Ha, you better remember that when you’re super rich and even more famous!”

  “I will. My mom always tells me I should remember everyone who helps me on my way up. I don’t usually listen to her, but she happens to be right about this.”

  I hugged him tighter, overwhelmed by how much I felt for this young man who I’d struck up an unexpected friendship with.

  “Stay in touch, okay?”

  “You can count on it, kiddo.”

  Finally, it was Freya's turn. She was crying even more than me, but seeing her so upset made me break down further.

  Freya had been the closest thing I’d ever had to a sister, and to leave her was like leaving behind a part of myself.

  “Is it worth me begging you to stay one more time?” she asked, pulling me into a hug.

  “It never hurts to try,” I told her. “But you know I can't.”

  “I know. I just don't want you to go.”

  “I wish I didn't have to. But it'll be okay. We'll talk every day, I won't give you a chance to miss me!”

  She laughed. “I’ll miss you as soon as you've gone!”

  “I'll miss you too. So much.”

  “Call me when you get home?”

  “I will.”

  We hugged once more, and then finally, I turned to Miguel.

  If I'd thought saying goodbye to Freya was hard, Miguel was going to be even worse.

  He seemed to read my mind, and he smiled. “Don't worry, we can delay this for a little longer.”

  “We can?”

  “Yeah. I'm coming to the airport with you.”

  My eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Really. We drew straws to see who would have to put up with you while you waited for your plane and, well, I drew the short straw.”

  I punched him playfully but gave him a grateful smile, and he said, “You ready?”

  “I guess so.

  I gave everyone one last hug, then Miguel picked up my bags and we left the hotel and got into a cab.

  'This is it,' I thought as the door closed, and we began to drive away from the hotel. 'Now I begin my journey home.'

  There was a solid knot of gloom in my stomach as I thought, not only about the friends I was leaving behind, but about Radleigh.

  As I broke into tears again, Miguel wrapped his arm around my shoulders and let me cry.

  My flight wasn't due to leave for two and a half hours, and I was severely dehydrated and exhausted from crying so much, so Miguel took me into one of the airport cafés and supplied me with what looked like a bucket of coffee.

  I barely had the energy to lift the cup.

  Across the table, Miguel watched me but didn't say a word, until I got tired of him looking at me. “What?”

  “What happened last night?”

  “Well,” I began with a sigh, “let's just say Radleigh made it clear he didn't want me.”

  “He really said that?”

  “Please,” I begged softly, “don't make me talk about it again.”

  He reached over and held my hand. “I'm sorry, Leah.”

  “It's my own fault. I should have taken the hint when he didn't show up at the party. I never should have gone to see him. It made things worse. And that's saying something. I didn't think things could get worse.”

  “The fact that he turned you away proves what a complete loser he is. He doesn't deserve you, he never did. He never will.”

  I looked up at him, his beautiful brown eyes completely genuine. I squeezed his hand. “Miguel, I'm so sorry. I don't know how you can even stand to look at me after what I did to you.”

  “It's simple. What we had was important to me. You’re important to me. If I held a grudge, I wouldn't get to have you in my life at all.”

  As I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain, the kindness of Miguel's words washed over me and the emotion was just too much. Moving my coffee cup aside, I rested my head on the table as a huge out-pouring of grief and regret came flooding out of me.

  I heard him move, and felt him as he wrapped his arms around me again, holding me tightly, gently stroking my hair with one hand.

  .

  Chapter 21: Mullets and Shell Suits

  My journey home was long and exhausting. My mum and dad greeted me just after one a.m on Monday morning at Newquay airport. Even though I’d slept a lot on the journey from Los Angeles to London, I still felt tired and with the added annoyance of jetlag, I was a little bit dazed.

  My parents were thrilled I was finally home but while I was happy to see them, my enthusiasm was stilted to say the least. On the plane, whenever I hadn’t been asleep, I’d been crying. Physically, I may have been in England, but my mind and my heart were still very much in America.

  Arriving back in my parents' house and going back to my old room filled me with a mixture of comfort and sadness. I loved the familiarity of it, the way the rooms smelled, and how everything looked the same as when I left.

  Bur they weren't really my surroundings. Not anymore.

  After a quick cup of tea with my parents, I climbed into bed and cried myself to sleep.

  I didn't wake up until well past noon on Monday afternoon. As far as my body was concerned, it was still early morning so it didn't feel like I’d woken up at the wrong time. Even so, when I traipsed down to the kitchen in my dressing gown at two-thirty that afternoon, my mum looked a little amused.

  “Hi,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  “Good afternoon. Can I get you anything?”

  I shook my head. “It's okay, I can manage.”

  She sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, reading one of those women's magazines full of quizzes and depressing real life stories. I felt like I’d been teleported back to my teenage years.

  As I put the kettle on and popped some bread into the toaster Mum said, “How are you?”

  “I'm okay,” I answered, turning to her. “A little tired.”

  She looked at me closely, in the way mothers do when they’re trying to decide if their child is telling the truth.

  “Leah,” she began, “you still haven't told us why you left America. If you want to talk-”

  “I don't,” I interrupted. “Really, I'm fine. I'll just need a bit of time to settle in.”

  “But something did happen?”

  “Mum, I really don't want to talk about it. At least not yet. I want to put it out of my mind for a while.”

  Turning away from her so I could make my breakfast, I realised that moving back with my parents was going to be every bit as hard as I'd thought.

  Once breakfast was over and I’d showered and dressed, I called Freya, as promised. Hearing her voice brightened my mood and I had an inkling I’d need to call her a lot over the coming weeks in order to retain my sanity. I really hoped it was just the enormous change of scenery that was making me so miserable, and that it would all settle down soon, but at that moment, I couldn't imagine not feeling the emptiness inside me.

  Freya and I chatted for half an hour, by which time some of my grogginess had lifted, so I decided I should start unpacking some of the boxes that were taking up valuable floor space.

  That really was the final admission that I was staying.

  With a sigh, I lifted the first box on to the bed and began emptying its contents. It was full of clothes. Clothes I would probably never even wear again. Exact
ly where in Cornwall would I go to wear the black lacy corset Bree had persuaded me to buy, or the outrageous short pleated skirt Freya thought would look cute on me? Sure, there were clubs in Cornwall, but I didn't have anyone to go out with anymore.

  Never mind. At least you'll be the trendiest person in town.

  That wasn't saying much though. There were still people sporting mullets and wearing shell suits in Zellor.

  I hadn't realised how many clothes I owned. It didn't seem as many when I’d packed but as I hung them up in my wardrobe I ran out of hangers.

  “Unbelievable.”

  I dumped a pile of t-shirts back into the box they came out of, making a note to myself to buy some more clothes hangers when I went into town.

  The next box I came across was the one I was least looking forward to opening. When I’d been packing, I'd been too angry and frustrated to appreciate its contents, throwing it all in, hating every item that had a memory attached to it.

  I had to face it sometime.

  It was the box where I’d packed everything that was special to me. Inside were masses of photos I'd taken in places I'd visited with work, of my friends, of nights out. I flipped through one of the albums, needing to see Freya, Will and Bree. In some small way it made them seem closer.

  It wasn't only the four of us though. There were many photos that had been taken the first time we'd gone clubbing, the infamous night when I made my debut as a pole dancer and had my first kiss with Miguel. There were several photos of him, a couple of the two of us together and numerous pictures of soccer players freaking out on the dance floor.

  There didn't appear to be a single photo of Radleigh though. If I hadn't been so suddenly desperate to get a look at him, I'd have laughed at the stupidity of it all. How much had I despised him back then that I didn't even have one picture of him? I even had a photo of Taylor. But not one tiny glimpse of Radleigh.

  I knew there was a simple way to fix that. Josh and Christina. When we went to the aquarium, a lot of photos had been taken that I hadn't seen yet. Not only that, Jamie's bedroom was full of Westberg merchandise so if I ever got completely overcome with the need to look at him, I could always go there.

  Groaning at my own lameness, I slumped on to my bed, the memory of him still too painful to dwell on.

  The one thing Josh knew I’d missed about England was a traditional English breakfast, so he suggested taking me out for my long awaited greasy fry-up the next morning. I intended to spend the whole day with him, Christina and Grace, even if it was just hanging out at their house. I was dying to see Jamie, and I couldn't stand another second cooped up in my room to avoid my mother's worried looks.

  I met up with my brother, sister-in-law and niece at ten-thirty on Tuesday morning, in the same café my mum used to take us to when we were younger. It was our “local” for want of a better term.

  After all of the formalities of hugging, and ordering our food, we sat at a table by the window with our cups of coffee. I waited as the inevitable topic of conversation lurked in the background. I was certainly not going to be the first to mention Radleigh, and Josh knew me well enough to know that so it was no big surprise when he approached the subject first.

  “So,” he began, “now we’re away from Mum and Dad, do you want to tell us what's going on?”

  With a sigh I said, “Not really. But I guess I ought to tell someone instead of stewing in my own misery.”

  “What happened?” Christina asked. “All you said to us was that people were talking about you and Radleigh because of some photos. You're not the type of person who is bothered by that kind of thing usually.”

  “How about when you realise you’re in love with the guy you’re being linked to, only to find out he’s not interested?” I said, playing with a sachet of sugar so I wouldn't have to look at them.

  “Okay,” Josh said. “Start from the beginning.”

  With another sigh, I explained to them what had happened with the photographs and how, on confronting Radleigh, he’d made it plain that he didn't want a relationship with me. I told them how he had reacted badly to the news that I was leaving, and finally most, but not all, of the events of Saturday night.

  When I’d finished, I started to realise how stupid it sounded. Who runs away from a job because of one rejection, from one guy?

  He wasn't one guy. He was THE guy. The guy who made you feel things you haven't felt in years, and more than that, who made you feel things you hadn't ever felt before.

  The knot in my stomach tightened but I was starting to get used to it being there. I barely even flinched.

  “Leah, are you sure you aren't getting your wires crossed?” Josh asked. “Because he seemed genuine to me. And when I say genuine I mean, it seemed like he was interested.”

  Christina rolled her eyes and I knew why. She had a few important pieces of information that Josh didn't have. One being that Radleigh was unable to keep it in his trousers for longer than five minutes, and the other being that I slept with him.

  “Well,” she said, “all men seem genuine when they want something.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that he thought by being nice to me, he could get me into bed,” I answered, dryly.

  Christina looked at me closely for a minute. “Leah, come on. Think about this for a second. You can spot men who are just trying their luck a mile away. I don't believe for a second that you were wrong about him.”

  “I've been wrong before. If he felt anything at all for me, he wouldn't have treated me the way he did. He didn't even … he didn't even say goodbye.”

  Across the table, Josh put his hand over mine. “If I'd known what an idiot he’d turn out to be, I'd never have let him spend so much time with us. I'm sorry.”

  “Not your fault. I always knew he was an idiot. Just my type, huh?”

  “You certainly know how to pick 'em.”

  Josh and Christina were both looking at me with concern and I said, “Please quit staring at me like that. I get enough of that at home.”

  “Sorry,” Josh said, again. “But I’ve seen that look on your face before. It's your 'I want to die but I'm pretending everything's okay' look.”

  “There's no fooling you, is there?”

  “No. So don't even try with me. I've seen you go through something like this before, and I don't want-”

  “Josh,” I interrupted. “It's not the same as with Luke. I was young and stupid back then. This is different. Well. I'm still stupid.”

  “You're not stupid, and don't pretend that you don't care as much about McCoy as you did about Luke. It's not that different – except that McCoy at least managed to treat you with a little bit of respect.”

  If he knew the full details of what had happened on Saturday night he would have retracted that statement, but there was no way I was going to share that with my brother. We were close, but not that close.

  I ran my hand through my hair, trying to keep control of my wavering emotions. It seemed the more I tried to make sense of my relationship with Radleigh, the more confused I became.

  “I'll be okay,” I said. “I'm far away from him now and I don't have to deal with him, or with people talking about me behind my back. I want to move on.”

  “Okay. But can you promise me you won't pretend everything's fine if it isn't? I don't want you to bottle everything up and not talk about it.”

  “Josh, stop fussing. I'm a big girl now. I can look after myself.”

  “I'm worried about you.”

  “I appreciate it, but it's bad enough having to put up with mum looking at me like I'm going to have a nervous breakdown at any minute, without you joining in too.”

  “I'm sorry. I will stop being so big brother-ish now. Let's just have breakfast and talk about something else.”

  Thankfully, that was what we did. After breakfast we went to Josh and Christina's new house. It really was beautiful, with its four large bedrooms, the most enormous kitchen I�
�d ever set foot in and a huge back garden for the kids to play in, complete with swings and a slide.

  We spent the rest of the day catching up and for the first time in weeks I felt relaxed. When Christina asked me to stay for the night, I jumped at the offer. Anything to put off going home for a bit longer. It felt claustrophobic at my house with my mum's eyes constantly following me around. I was close to my parents but they never understood my desperate desire to get as far away from Cornwall as possible. They’d both lived there all their lives and believed everyone else should do the same.

  When Josh brought Jamie home from school, my nephew launched himself at me and hugged me tightly.

  “Hello sweetheart.”

  “Auntie Leah! You're really home!”

  “I am,” I laughed. “How are you?”

  “I'm okay. School was boring!”

  “Have you got any homework?”

  “Nope,” he announced, happily. “I don't have homework on Tuesdays, so I’m allowed to watch football now.”

  I looked over the top of Jamie's head at Josh, who said, “I have to record it for him, because he can't stay up to watch it.”

  Of course, international football would be on at unsociable hours.

  “Auntie Leah,” Jamie said. “Will you watch it with me?”

  I gave Josh a panicked look. I didn't want to disappoint Jamie, but I wasn’t ready to watch the people I’d only just left behind. It was far too soon.

  “You'll have to watch on your own for a while, buddy,” Josh answered. “Auntie Leah is sleeping here tonight, so I have to take her home to grab some clean clothes for tomorrow.”

  Jamie was so thrilled by the prospect of me staying over, he wasn't too disappointed about me missing the game.

  As soon as he’d settled in front of the television, Josh drove me home. I let him deal with mum and dad while I threw some clean clothes into a bag. I knew he wanted to tell them to back off and give me some space, and rather than be in the room while he was doing it, I decided to keep out of the way. I think it worked because when I went into say goodbye to them, they smiled which was a welcome change from the looks of concern I’d been getting since my return.

 

‹ Prev