Try hard, p.15
Try Hard, page 15
I’d wished, in the moment, that I could have defended myself, but she’d always been more outgoing than I was. She’d been less afraid of getting in trouble, so she’d tossed out a swear word in class—luckily outside of the teacher’s hearing—but, in doing so, she’d given me something I’d carried ever since. She’d been unafraid to stick up for someone she hadn’t needed to. She hadn’t shrunk herself for someone annoying.
I was pretty sure I’d been convinced she didn’t know my name, that she heard it and repeatedly threw it out of her mind as inconsequential. But she’d known my name. She’d known I was good at science. She’d known I needed help—and she’d just given it, expecting nothing in return.
“Do you remember me in school?” I asked without thinking. I did next to nothing without thinking it through, but, apparently, around her, I just said whatever came to mind.
She laughed softly. “Of course. Firstly, our school wasn’t that big. But, more importantly, you were kind of impressive. I imagine a lot of people remember you.”
“What?” I scoffed.
“Ah,” she sighed. “If only you saw yourself the way I do—the way the rest of us do.”
I blew out a breath, considering how the rest of the world saw me. “Rude? Kind of mean?”
“Who have you ever been mean to?”
“Erm. Well, nobody on purpose, but I’m not exactly warm and fuzzy, am I? I imagine people find that mean.”
“I think you’re warm. And the level of fuzziness you prefer is entirely your choice, Ophelia.”
The wave of emotion hit me again. I had to be premenstrual for how sentimental I was feeling. But… the way she said my name, like she’d never cared about anything more in her life, just did something to my heart. Did she say everyone’s name like that? Perhaps it was no wonder the whole world was in love with her. She so effortlessly made you feel precious and important.
I tried to shake it off but my voice wavered as I laughed. “I haven’t hit the athletic heights you have, Archer, but it’s pretty standard practice among swimmers to shave or wax.”
“Understood. Dolphin smooth. Gotta reduce that drag.”
“Absolutely,” I snorted.
She hummed and sounded like she was adjusting her position. “I don’t remember you being a swimmer in school.”
“I wasn’t.”
The comment hung in the air, Eve testing whether I was going to say more, before she said, “Thank goodness I didn’t just miss it.”
I laughed. “Our school might not have been thousands of pupils big, but I’m sure there are plenty of things you weren’t paying attention to. You can’t have been tracking every detail of the lives of each one of us.”
“That’s very true,” she said seriously. “I did not have the time to monitor the private and academic lives of every student. And doing so would probably have been a bit creepy.”
“When would you have played rugby?”
She was quiet for a moment, the silence loaded as if she was waiting for me to read between the lines, to pick up something I’d missed.
“I remember,” she said eventually, “that you won at least two awards at Prize Giving Evening every single year. I remember that you got some of the best exam results in our year.”
I groaned but was a little amused and embarrassed. “Yes, thank you. I’m sure my mum and dad still have all those certificates.”
“As they should.”
“They’re not exactly gold medals,” I joked, recalling our conversation about her Olympic success.
“They’re the academic equivalent when you’re at school, and you never missed that podium finish.”
I burned with embarrassment. “You didn’t either. You only know I was at those evenings because you were there too.”
She breathed a laugh. “I think, unless you were at some specialist sports school, if you’re a good enough athlete to make it to an Olympic team, you probably did dominate sports awards at your secondary school…”
“You’re just saying that to minimise your own excellence.”
“This whole conversation is about you minimising your excellence,” she shot back, laughing, before letting out another pensive hum. “I also remember how much you hated the corridors between classes.”
“Well, yes, they were far too small for all of us, and people were wild in them,” I said before I fully realised what she’d said. She’d paid attention. My friends knew I detested feeling like a battered sardine in the corridor, but I’d never said anything to Eve about it. She’d simply… observed me in the corridors and known?
“Mm. You could have walked behind me, you know? I kind of… cleared a path.”
“I did once. Right behind you. Close enough to reach out and touch you. It was a completely different experience, you know? Everybody looking at you, getting out of the way, saying hello. It was like following a celebrity to class.”
She laughed. “I’ll take you to a professional rugby match sometime and we can recreate it in the crowds.”
“You better not lose me.”
“You can reach out and touch me this time.”
I sighed. I’d wanted to that day, too. I never would have, but she’d been so close and I’d been so very into her. All I’d been able to think about was what it would be like if she reached back and took my hand, kept me safe in the sea of people.
“I remember,” she continued, “that every one of our teachers looked delighted when you walked into their class at the beginning of the year.”
“They did not.”
“They absolutely did.”
“I remember that, for the last couple of years, you wouldn’t eat lunch in the canteen on Mondays or Wednesdays.”
“Peer Mentor meetings on Mondays. Music on Wednesdays.”
“Right. That you’d get a mint hot chocolate every morning, that you brought a packed lunch but Tanika would still have you queue up with her while she got her hot meal, that you practically ran from class to uni prep sessions on Tuesdays when we were in year twelve.”
“Oh, god.” I buried my face in my arm. “I wanted my application to be good! And my class was all the way on the other side of campus.”
“I know. You used to bolt past my French class to get there.”
I knew I was bright red and dying of embarrassment, but, inexplicably, it felt okay with Eve. Perhaps because she sounded so very happy that she got to see me doing that each week.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, shaking my head. “You had rugby every single morning. You ate lunch with Kim’s husband-to-be and about a million other people who sprawled over two of those long tables in the canteen. You had rugby practice on Thursdays after school too. You wrote an amazing persuasive essay in year ten that got put on display in the classroom—”
“—as did you—”
“—and one of your art pieces got put up outside the head teacher’s office.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
“Well, that’s not embarrassing that I remembered and you didn’t.”
She laughed. “Did you remember running past my French class?”
“No. I guess not.”
“So, we’re even.” She chuckled again. “Any reason for the question? Because I could keep going with things I remember, if you’d like?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I replied quickly. “I was just… thinking about one of our science classes. The time that guy was holding bunsen burners hostage.”
“Oh, right. Gary.”
“That was his name. I couldn’t for the life of me remember it.”
“I’m extra flattered you remember so many things about me.”
I hummed noncommittally. We didn’t need to get into just how much I remembered—or why I did.
“You know he fancied you, right?” she asked, her voice expectant.
“What? No, he didn’t.”
She laughed more heartily than I thought that required. “Yes, he did! I told him to stop thinking with his dick around you. What did you think that meant?”
My brain felt like it was buzzing. “That you were… commenting on the patriarchal society in which we live?”
“Adorable.” She sounded far more fond than I deserved.
“Not a word people usually associate me with.”
“Yeah, well, I think you’re adorable. And so did Gary… whatever his last name was.”
I hated that, now she’d said it, I could kind of see the logic. Lots of guys had behaved like that with girls they liked. But there was no way she’d been right on the money with that one. I was not the person everyone at school fancied. I wasn’t popular or pretty like Eve was.
“That’s really blowing your mind, isn’t it?” she asked when I didn’t speak for a moment.
“No.”
“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “Do you want me to tell you who else had a crush on you, or shall we save that for another day?”
“Oh, god. There was nobody else. You’re forgetting who the desirable one was at school.”
“I absolutely am not. But, whenever you’re ready to know, just say the word.”
“Like you have a list of them ready to go?”
“Exactly like that.”
“Archer,” I groaned.
She laughed, sounding like she was on top of the world. “So, if you don’t want that conversation, do you want to talk about what’s bothered you tonight?”
Nothing was bothering me while she was talking to me. Sure, I was embarrassed, a little mortified, but nothing was bad around her, not really. Even what had been bothering me.
Of course, the moment I focused on it, the more it came into relief.
“It’s nothing,” I said, sounding thoroughly unconvinced myself. “Just work stuff.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
I did want to talk about it. To her. It didn’t make any sense, but I did. I wanted her to stand beside me and scare away the things I didn’t like, just as she had with Gary all those years ago.
“I promise I’m here to listen,” she reassured me with a gentle tone when I simply stared at the bed in silence.
“Yesterday, when I got home, a guy I work with, Fuad, called. He said there are some changes being considered.”
“Changes you don’t like?” she asked easily, and I was amazed how readily I wanted to answer. I didn’t want to burden her, but she really did sound like she was fully engaged and wanted to listen.
“Yeah, I guess.” I paused, chewing on my cheek briefly. “It’s silly because anyone could see them coming from miles away, but the job’s already changed so much from when I started, and it’s not exactly like I have it that badly. It feels foolish to complain.”
“You’re allowed to like some parts of your job and not others.”
I nodded, more to myself than her, particularly since she couldn’t even see me. “They’re floating the idea of having us make content for social media, which, of course they are. But that’s not me. I’m not an onscreen personality and I don’t want to be—hell, I don’t even know how to be. And, yeah, I guess it’s silly. There are people out there who would sell their souls to be influencers, and I’m potentially being asked to do a little bit of that and I feel… lost. I shouldn’t even be dealing with this while I’m off, but I’m also glad I know because some warning is better than none, right?”
“It’s okay if you felt like you wanted to shoot the messenger,” Eve said gently.
I laughed bitterly. “I think, famously, that’s something you’re not supposed to do.”
“We’ll allow it this time. Just for you.”
“I also think that requires revisiting that whole mean thing we discussed.”
“Nah. Everyone’s upset about news they get sometimes, and everyone’s felt angry at the messenger for it. I know you well enough to know you weren’t mean to him, even if you were upset.”
I considered, thinking back to my call with Fuad and the unending texts he’d been sending me all evening. “Yesterday, I think I was frustrated, but, the longer it goes, the more I hear from him about it, the more it’s bothering me. Like, the longer I sit with it, the worse it feels.”
“The more real it becomes.”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Do you want to stay there?”
That was the crux of it. The one I’d been trying to contend with when Eve had texted me. “I thought I did.”
“But now you’re not sure?”
I blew out a breath. “Can you just fill in my side of the conversation and then tell me what the outcome is? You know me well enough.”
Even in the wave of confusion, something warmed in me from saying that and knowing it was true.
She breathed a laugh and sounded hopeful when she said, “I’m glad I do.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
“I don’t think I can tell you what to do here, though.”
“Shame.”
She laughed once, sympathetically. “But what I can do is promise to be by your side as you figure it out. You can talk to me, you can have any and all emotions you want about the situation, and, if you end up deciding to stay and do the on-camera stuff, I can help with that.”
“What? How?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Ophelia,” she said, sounding amused, “but in another life, I was quite the public persona. I think you mentioned something about seeing some of my interviews.”
“Hm. Yes. One or two.” One, two, five, five hundred… What difference did it make?
Eve laughed, but the sound was still intimate, sympathetic, sweet. “Well, I’ve had quite a bit of media training. I can help you with all of that, but only if it’s what you want.”
“Archer,” I murmured, almost saying her first name and giving up all of my efforts to refrain from giving in to her and how wonderful she still was. Although, if she was going to treat me so kindly, what did she think was going to happen? “Thank you. You realise you don’t have to do any of that, right?”
“I want to.” Her voice ached with sincerity. “No place else I’d rather be, remember?”
Chapter Eighteen
Eve
Mum laughed when she found me sitting on the living room floor, sweats on over my kit for the match, and cradling Hercules like he was a giant baby.
“You’re spoiling him again,” she said, maneuvering around us to sit on the sofa with her mug of tea.
“He deserves it, don’t you, Herc?” I asked before grinning up at her. “I’m only here occasionally, so he’ll be fine.”
She studied me. “You’re ready early.”
“It’s a long ride,” I said, teasingly noncommittal.
“I’m sure it will be with you driving about five miles an hour.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Because you’d get bored?”
“Well, probably, honestly, but that’s not the reason.”
“Driving so far below the speed limit would put you in danger.” She paused to look at me over her tea. “Which would put Fia in danger.”
“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner! Come on down and claim your prize.”
“What does she see in you?” she laughed.
“Hell if I know.”
“Hey,” Mum said instantly, frowning deeply. “I was kidding. I can think of a million things she must see in you.”
“Aside from the fact that she’s a million times better than me, I can’t think of one, but I’ll take whatever it is. Of course, I don’t know that she’s interested, just that she gives me the time of day.”
Mum scowled at me and even Herc bopped me with his paw, both of them effectively conveying that they didn’t agree with my take on things.
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding my hands in the air and earning another wallop and an attempted lick to the face from Herc that I managed to gracefully avoid. “I know I have my own qualities. I’m just saying I like hers better.”
“Have you told her that this time?”
“Ah. Nope.” I ran my hands through Herc’s soft fur, taking comfort from it.
“Eve,” Mum said, not chastising, not disappointed, just… gutted for me. “From what I know of her, Fia doesn’t give you the time of day if she doesn’t really like you.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “She’s not outgoing, sure, but she cares about things, you know? She cares about people even if she keeps them at a distance.”
“Doesn’t seem like she’s keeping you at a distance. It seems like she’s going to watch rugby for you.”
“Yeah, well, she watched planes for her dad, so I don’t know if that means anything.”
Mum shook her head, laughing into her tea as she blew on it to cool it. “I’m pretty sure she likes her dad, Eve. Not the same way she likes you, but still, that’s actually a good sign.”
“Maybe.” I considered her for a moment, thinking over every second with Ophelia and how excited I was to go pick her up—so excited I’d gotten ready a whole hour early. “How did you know, with Terrance? That he liked you, I mean.”
“Oh, that was easy. The man just told me. Walked right over and gave a whole speech about how he’d never forgive himself if we didn’t cross paths again and he hadn’t taken the chance to tell me he thought I had the most beautiful laugh in the world and desperately wanted to get to know me better.”
“Damn. Terrance is smooth,” I laughed, impressed.
“He is indeed. Perhaps you should take a leaf out of his book.”
I shot her a look. “I don’t think it will work the same way if I say that to Fia, Mum. I already know she’s got the world’s best laugh, and I know the woman behind it.”
“You know what I mean. You’re just being stubborn to try to protect yourself, but you don’t need to. Stay soft, darling. Let Fia see those parts of you.”
I snuggled Herc tighter again. The last thing I needed was to be late picking Ophelia up because I had a breakdown on the living room floor over how perfect she was.
Mum sighed sympathetically. “I know you’ve historically not wanted to talk about it, but you and I both know that Ophelia Pendrick is the benchmark you’ve held everyone you’ve ever dated to, constantly waiting for it to feel like it did when you wanted her.”
