Bending Under Pressure

by Lindsay Paige

  * * * *

  Bending Under Pressure

  Copyright © 2015 by Lindsay Paige

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  “We’ve already spoken to the coach and you’re on the team. He’s excited to have you and you will be excited to be there. You’re going to practice, Haley. End of discussion.” My mom holds the tennis racquet by the head and nudges the handle against my arms folded over my chest. When I make no move to grab it, her shoulders drop in defeat. “You love to play and you were going to play this year. I don’t understand why you want to quit now.”

  “Because you uprooted me, took me from Dad, and I don’t want to!” It stings to say she took me from Dad when the truth is he didn’t want me to stay.

  The steel returns to my mother’s eyes as her lips flatten. “Go change. You need to leave in ten minutes to be there on time.” Her tone is one I hate the most. It’s the one where if I don’t do as she asks, she’ll drag me by my ponytail, if needed.

  I yank the tennis racquet from her and storm off to my room. Freaking great. Not only did I have to move to a new town in the middle of summer, switch schools, and have no choice but to acknowledge that my dad doesn’t care about me anymore, I now have to go meet new teammates and future classmates. Will they resent me because I didn’t try out for the team; I’m sure everyone else did. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anyway. I hate this place, so they might as well hate me, too.

  After changing into a tank top, shorts, and my tennis shoes, I grab my racquet and return to the kitchen. Mom already has a water bottle waiting for me on the counter. Unfortunately, her new husband, Walter, has joined us.

  “Are you ready for practice, Haley? I think you’ll like your coach. He seemed really excited when I spoke to him.” Walter always attempts to be nice to me, but I’ve been rock solid on my stance to ignore him.

  It’s really starting to piss Mom off, too. It’s been six months since their wedding and one month since we moved. I stopped speaking to him altogether when I learned I couldn’t stay with my dad. Mom sighs, shakes her head, and hands me my car keys. I silently leave, remembering how we landed here to begin with.

  My parents had always seemed happy and had the perfect marriage. Then, one day, I came home from a weekend trip with my best friend, who I also had to leave behind, and Mom had packed our stuff. We lived with my grandma until she found a place of our own. Dad has barely had anything to do with me since then. I don’t know why they divorced because neither of them will tell me. Their only answer is that they grew apart and no longer wanted to be together. What kind of answer is that? Who gives up after so many years together? Something doesn’t add up.

  All I know is they’ve ruined my life. I was a daddy’s girl before the divorce. Not anymore. I’d been surrounded by friends. Well, not anymore because they had to move me to this crappy town.

  There are so many problems with this place. Like, the list would be longer than I am tall and I’m five-foot-six. Let me give you a glimpse of some of the many issues. It’s small. You have to travel ten to twenty minutes to get into town because this place is country. Vast, lush green fields dominate the landscape between houses. There’s either a crop in the fields, horses or cows, or it’s simply empty, except for the grass. And who knew northern Virginia was so hilly? The roads are just wide enough for two vehicles, with no shoulders on the sides of the road, so you’re screwed and stuck in the road if you break down. Some of the roads don’t even have paint on them. It’s just asphalt.

  Once you finally get into town, there’s one stoplight, a gas station, some run down old buildings that always have vehicles parked out front. I always wonder what’s there. I mean, the buildings look terrible with their chipped paint and they are obviously worn down. What could be inside that so many people are there? Not to mention that if I want to eat, shop, or do pretty much anything, it’s a twenty to forty-five minute drive depending on which adjacent town you pick. Honestly, with a town like this, I wonder how good their tennis team is. I just left a state championship winning school. I have to be downgrading here. How in the world could I like it here knowing all of that?

  I park along the line of cars at the tennis courts. A breath of relief quickly leaves me since the courts look to be in good shape. That’s a good sign. As my door slams closed, everyone’s eyes turn toward me. A bald, old, white man, probably in his fifties, is unloading equipment from a white van. Oh, God. His shorts are a good three inches above his knees, at least. He sets a container full of tennis balls down when he sees me approach him.

  “I’m Haley Summers. My stepdad, Walter, spoke to you earlier this week.”

  “Ah, yes. Right.” He smiles and shakes my hand. “I’m Coach Spell. It’s nice to meet you and have you on the team. Let’s introduce you to your teammates, Haley.”

  Coach Spell leads me through the fence gate and onto the courts. The group of girls is huddled around each other, whispering and stealing glances at me as we approach. One girl is standing along the fence, talking to two guys our age who are sitting on a bench. Great. An audience. A hot audience though.

  “Jess!” Coach Spell yells. The girl talking to the guys turns. “Get over here.” Jess blows a kiss to the blond-haired guy who grins at her. She jogs over to us as Coach Spell calls for the others. “Girls, this is Haley Summers. She attended St. Williams High School and helped take her team to the state championships two years in a row. Fortunately, she’s on our team now and can help us do the same. Make her feel welcomed.” He turns to Jess. “Start the
warm ups while I finish unloading.” As he walks away, he shouts over his shoulder, “Cameron, Keelan, if you’re going to watch my girls practice, you can help an old man out!”

  The guys from the bench stand and go help him. I wonder which one is which. My guess would be that the blond, tan, white guy is Cameron while the other—a tall, lean guy with a brown complexion, is Keelan. Jess and the girls seem dumbfounded by my appearance. Maybe they didn’t know they were getting a new teammate, but geez, it’s not that big of a deal.

  “Warm up!” Coach Spell hollers.

  “Right,” Jess nods. The girls line up along the net and Jess stands ten feet away, facing us. She leads us in our stretching.

  It feels good to stretch my muscles, especially since I know they’ll be sore after today. I haven’t played much since we moved, and I’m a tad out of shape. Once we finish, Jess announces that we’re going to run ten laps around the courts. There are five in a row and the girls start running around the outer edge. Tennis must be popular here is there are so many courts. I’m surprised there are enough people to even have a team. Jess runs next to me, apparently needing to speak to me while we do this.

  “Are you excited about school starting soon?”

  “I guess,” I answer.

  “I can show you around and introduce you to people. How long ago did you move here?”

  “A month ago.”

  She nods and doesn’t say anything for two laps. I should probably be friendlier. These are my teammates and future classmates. I should accept any friend I can get and Jess is obviously trying to be nice to me.

  “Is Cameron your boyfriend?” I ask as we pass the guys, who have reclaimed their spot on the bench.

  Jess smiles. “Yep, and that’s his brother, Keelan.” Brothers? Interesting. “They play on the football team. Cam likes to watch me practice, and he drags Keelan with him. What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No.” I pause before adding, “Do you like your school?”

  “I love it. But then, I’ve lived here all my life. I think you’ll like it.”

  We run the last of the laps with Jess explaining how practices normally go. Eventually, I zone out and focus on the game and my ever-stewing anger toward my family. Coach Spell watches us attentively throughout. Jess told me that he hasn’t seeded anyone yet, which is why he’s watching us. According to her, he’s going to pair us up and have us play one another later this week. She earned the number one seed last season and is hoping to reclaim it this year.

  Everyone clears out once practice is over, but I stay. I really don’t want to go home. Sighing, I take a seat on the bench where Cameron and Keelan were sitting. At least I know this town has cute boys and at least one friendly girl. The others seemed nice, but didn’t go out of their way to speak to me, but I didn’t speak to them either.

  I wasn’t popular at my old school; I didn’t care to be, but I had a good group of friends. Based on today, I’m not sure I can make that happen here. No one but Jess really spoke to me. Am I an outcast on day one? I didn’t do anything to cause that to happen. When I learned we were moving, despite not wanting to, my gut told me it would be good. Apparently, my gut was drunk. I’m not off to a good start.

  Bending to rest my head in my hands, I notice a brown wallet underneath the bench and I pick it up. When I open it, I see Keelan’s driver’s license. It must have fallen out of his pocket. I wonder if he knows he’s lost it yet or not. I take advantage of the opportunity and look at the few details I can.

  His last name is Moore. He’s five-foot-eleven and apparently lives on the same road I do. Maybe I should find his house and give it back to him. The thought makes me nervous. Can I go to someone’s house unannounced? I don’t even know him. But he could be frantically scouring his house for the wallet I have in my possession. With a sigh, I walk to my car and head home since his house is somewhere down the road from me.

  All houses around here are secluded from their neighbors with large yards, and some are way off the road. I drive slowly, pissing off the driver behind me, and watch as the numbers on the mailboxes rise until I reach 962. I turn in, looking at the property as I drive up the gravel drive. There are only two cars visible outside the attached two-car garage. The house is a beautiful two-story brick home. There’s a jacked-up red truck and what looks like an old, black Mustang that has been kept in good condition. Someone should be home.

  Gulping, I park behind the Mustang and walk up the small rock walkway to the house. This porch is what southern dreams are made of. It covers the entire front of the house and is complete with a swing and rocking chairs. Why couldn’t our new house have this? Maybe then I’d like it better. I push away those thoughts and press the doorbell beside the screen door. The front door is open and I already know their house is lovely and cozy with a homey feel.

  After a moment, I hear a female call, “Coming!” from inside. An older black woman answers the door with a smile. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  “I found this at the tennis courts.” I hold up the wallet. “It belongs to Keelan.”

  “Oh, you’re a lifesaver!” A beeping sounds from the kitchen. “Come in, come in.” She turns and disappears down the hallway. Crap. I quickly open the screen door and follow her so I don’t get lost. “Keelan!” she yells as she takes a batch of cookies out of the oven. “I found your wallet!” She glances over at me, standing nervously in the middle of the room. “Have a seat. What’s your name?”

  “Haley Summers.” I do as I’m told, taking a seat at her table.

  Hurried footsteps sound and then Keelan appears in the kitchen. He stops short when he sees me clutching his wallet in my lap.

  “Haley Summers found your wallet at the tennis courts. She came to return it. Isn’t that so sweet of her?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Haley.”

  “I was going to wait to see if you came back, but then I figured you were probably frantic, so I looked at the address on your license and brought it to you,” I babble. He glances down at my lap, and I follow his gaze. “Oh! Here you go.” I hold out his wallet, and he takes it from me. “I should head home. My mom is probably wondering where I am.”

  “Are you sure you can’t stay for a cookie or two? You did bring his wallet back after all,” his mom says.

  “No, that’s okay. Thank you though.”

  When I stand, Keelan offers to walk me out, but I decline. Today has been long enough and I’m ready to get home. The drive only takes two minutes or so. Mom bombards me the moment I walk in the door. At least, Walter isn’t around.

  “How was it?”

  I take a seat at the island, fiddling with my empty water bottle. “Okay.”

  Mom doesn’t ask any more questions. It wouldn’t piss me off so much if not for the words that come out of her mouth next. “Walter wants—”

  “I don’t care,” I automatically reply, standing up to head to my room.

  “Haley, you’re being ridiculous. Walter has been nothing but nice to you, and you’re treating him like crap. It’s not right. If you want to be pissed at someone, then focus your anger on me. Not him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “And I didn’t deserve this!” My arms flail about, motioning around us. “I was happy. We were all happy! God, Mom, why don’t you worry about me for two seconds instead of him! Would it kill you to care about how I’m doing? I hate it here!” I turn and storm off to my room, ignoring my mother’s call for me to come back.

  Ever since she introduced me to Walter, her sole concern has been him and how he feels. I know I should probably treat him better, but for all I know, he and Mom were having an affair while my parents were still married and that’s why they divorced. No one tells me anything! Locking the door to my room, I turn up my stereo and crawl into bed with a romance novel. I’d rather escape into someone else’s world than be in my own right now.

  Once again, Jess is the only girl at practice who speaks to me. I feel like I’ve sort of made a friend. It relaxes
me a little bit. Hopefully, this means when school starts Monday, I won’t have that panicking moment where I don’t know which table to sit at in the cafeteria.

  The week passes and practice goes well. Coach Spell pairs us and has us play against one another for our seed placement; he’s going to make the announcement Monday. My good feeling about Jess plummets when, at the end of practice Friday, I overhear the girls talking about a party as I slip my racquet into its cover. No one invites me though, which is fine. I grab my things to leave.

  I’m halfway to my car when I hear someone call my name. I turn to see Keelan jogging toward me, Cameron and Jess not too far behind him. They’ve been watching practices here and there this week. I might have paid enough attention to them enough to know that Cameron is the owner of the truck I saw at his house.

  “Hey, there’s a huge party tonight to kick off school and football season starting. Do you want to go with me?”

  For a moment, I’m stunned. The same party none of my teammates offered to invite me to, Keelan is asking me to go with him? Why?

  “No, thanks,” I answer.

  “Oh, okay.” Keelan seems disappointed. “Not a partying kind of girl?”

  “Only sometimes.” It really just depends on my mood.

  He nods in understanding. “Well, can I give you my number in case you change your mind?”

  “Sure.” I doubt that I will though. He’s the only one who wants me there, and I don’t know him well enough to know if going would be worth it. I pull my phone from a pocket in my racquet case, pull up where I can enter a new contact, and hand it to him to enter it himself.

  Keelan smiles, his perfect white teeth making my heart beat a little faster. I love a good smile and Keelan’s is ridiculously good. “I’m going to text myself, so I’ll have your number, too.” He hands my phone back to me, and adds, “Catch ya later, Hales.”

  He walks away, leaving me frowning. Hales? Why did he call me that? I am not a fan of nicknames. My name is Haley, which is what I prefer to be called, because it’s my name. Maybe he can be an ally on Monday at school, even though he’s given me a nickname. Shaking my head, I finish the walk to my car and head home.