Wild Play

by Harper Lauren

  He looked up before I could reach them. Then he whispered something to the girl, to which she nodded and immediately left without giving me a glance.

  “Hi, Stryder,” I greeted nervously and uncertainly when I came close enough. “Who was that?”

  “Nobody,” he answered nonchalantly. “Just a waitress I know.”

  “You know? Or you dated?” I couldn’t help asking in a sarcastic tone. I was getting really pissed, and it was becoming almost impossible to hide it.

  He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

  I didn’t want to push it, so I changed the topic. Sighing, I took a deep breath and forced a cheerful tone into my voice. “Congratulations on winning the first championship game,” I said with an obligatory smile.

  “No thanks to you,” he suddenly muttered, his tone changing in an instant.

  I was definitely taken aback. “And what’s that about?”

  He took me by the arm, not forcefully, but firmly, leading me out to the back alley where we could have some privacy. “You tell me what it’s about,” he hissed when we were alone.

  I took a deep breath, knowing very well what he was talking about. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t think you’d take it this badly. I was just trying to help because I don’t want to see your talent going to waste.”

  “But couldn’t you have waited until I was ready?” he said in a sharp tone, obviously struggling not to raise his voice. “Who are you to tell me what I should do with my life?!”

  It was like a razor-sharp knife had just seared my heart at that moment. The pain was so intense and sudden that I found myself physically massaging my chest. “It’s not like that at all, Stryder…” I began to say in a weak voice.

  “Then what?” he demanded. “Since we got together, you’ve done nothing but try to direct my life toward a path I’m not even prepared to take. You’ve clung to me as if we’re already married, taking charge of my kitchen and changing my grocery brands, appearing in my practices unannounced…”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. All this time I had been thinking of how beautiful our relationship was turning out to be and how much we clicked. It greatly hurt to hear him saying those things, putting bad light onto what I thought were extra efforts on my part.

  “I’m sorry if I made you feel like a prisoner in some way, as if you had no choice or freedom,” I said sarcastically, my tone dripping with growing rage. “I’m sorry because I cared so much about you and you’re just too hardheaded and heartless to appreciate it!”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but I butted in again, stepping closer and pointing a finger at his chest. “You don’t deserve me, Stryder. I kept trying to convince myself that you’re not really a jerk who’s just playing around with me, that you’ve already changed, and that you actually care for me and you’re ready to finally commit…”

  Tears began streaming down my cheeks. I threw my hands up in the air. “I give up. I was so, so wrong. You’re still you and I guess you’ll never change. And… and this is me, which you don’t appreciate. So what the hell are we doing with each other?”

  I stormed off before he could stop me, my feet pounding hard on the ground as I ran fast to the parking lot and got into my car in a rush. All I could think of as I drove home was that I wanted to get as far away as possible.

  Chapter Twenty

  Stryder

  The second championship game came and went in a blur. This time, we had lost to the Freshwood Fighters.

  I went back to my car to find my dad waiting for me with a furious look on his face because I hadn’t done so well. I tuned him out, just letting him finish his usual litany. But when he mentioned Tasha, I snapped back to attention.

  “That woman’s really no good for you! Good riddance!” he yelled.

  “Leave her out of this,” I suddenly snapped, which made him straighten up and pay attention. He had a retort ready, of course, but I saw him hesitate.

  I wanted to tell him off then, but it would be a waste of time and energy. Instead, I got into my car and muttered a goodbye without letting him finish. I drove off without another word.

  As I drove aimlessly around the city, my mind wandered to Tasha, wondering how she was. My pride had gotten in the way, forcing me to remain silent for the past week and not even bothering to contact her after our bad breakup.

  A few days after that moment in the alley, I’d actually begun to realize that maybe I’d been wrong to blow it all out of proportion. But then, it only meant that someone of her caliber didn’t deserve a jerk like me. I was wrong to think I was ready to give commitment a go, because I’d been bottling up my feelings about her actions in the past until the last straw had triggered my anger.

  Despite the voices battling in my head, I found myself stopping by her apartment. After knocking on the door several times and not getting an answer, I felt dejected. I tried her phone, but there was also no answer. I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to see me anymore. Yet a part of me was determined to find her. I needed to see her and straighten out things, at least sit down and have a serious talk before we make a final decision about us.

  I’d finally given up on hearing from her when her neighbor came out and saw me. “Hey, are you looking for Tasha Rodriguez?” the elderly woman asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, she left yesterday, carrying a lot of bags with her,” the woman explained. “A tall, handsome guy came by to pick her up.” Leaning forward, she even added, “I think they’re going to elope.”

  My heart began to pound harder and faster. “Do you have any idea where they went?” I asked hopefully.

  “You know, I actually asked her before they left. She said they’re going to London.”

  “London?! Are you sure you heard right?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. She even told me she was excited to see the Big Ben.”

  “So you think she’s never coming back?” I asked, my heart sinking fast to the ground.

  “Yeah, the landlady said she’s gone for good.”

  I could feel the whole world suddenly crashing down on me. I muttered a “thanks” as I forced myself to go back to my car. Once inside, in the privacy of my vehicle, I felt my arms trembling and my shoulders shaking. I wasn’t crying, but my whole body was a mixture of hot and cold. I didn’t know what to think except that I was so damn stupid to have let her go a second time. And this time, I don’t think I’ll ever get her back again.

  In a few minutes, I was at The Den, drowning my sorrows in beer. The waitress who had been flirting with me during the party after our first championship game came on to me again. But I was certainly not in the mood. All I could think of was Tasha running away to London with some unknown guy. Could it be Brad? Or perhaps that stuntman called Corky?

  It was like I was trapped in a nightmare and there was no escape.

  The minutes passed without me noticing the time. It was dark outside, so I knew it was night time. For the nth time, I checked the usual social media to get a clue as to what has been happening to Tasha. Had she really gone out of the country already? Maybe it wasn’t too late yet to win her back again. All sorts of thoughts and feelings were churning within me, and I could feel it all taking a toll on my sanity.

  There were no clues whatsoever that I could find online. Her last post was of us still happy together. It was like she’d just suddenly gone.

  I wanted to lash out as well as virtually drown and disappear. I was already on my fourth or fifth bottle of beer, feeling a bit tipsy, when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. My heart began to race.

  “Hello?” I said, hoping to hear Tasha’s voice on the other end.

  It was a woman’s voice that greeted me, but it wasn’t Tasha’s. This one sounded friendly but professional. “Hi, Mr. Stryder Cooper?”

  “Yes, speaking…” I sort of slurred, my vision blurring as my eyes focused on the bottle of beer in my hand. “Who’s this?”

  There
was a slight pause before she continued. “My name is Anna Wilkins from Shutter Magazine. I’m calling to inform you that your close-up photograph of the bug had won the most votes from our readers and followers online…”

  “Wow, really,” I murmured, my mind sharpening just a little bit. This was probably good news. At least there was still something to rejoice about on this dreary day.

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “This means that you’ve won First Place in our Photography Contest this year, and you can claim your prize within the week.”

  “Prize?” I asked incredulously. “What did I win—a new lens? Or maybe a tripod?”

  “Uh, no, sir,” she replied, seeming to be startled that I wasn’t even aware of the grand prize.

  “Our grand prize is a two-year scholarship grant at London Academy of Photography, the most prestigious photography school in the entire continent of Europe.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Did you just say London?” I wasn’t even as interested in the grant as much as in having the chance to go after the woman I deeply cared about. Now it was fast dawning on me that I wanted her back in my life—very badly. For good.

  “Yes, London,” the woman confirmed. “You might want to visit our office to get the full details on how you can avail this scholarship grant. We’ll explain everything to you, and you can decide when you’d like to leave.”

  “Wow,” I murmured under my breath. The prospect of just jumping onto the next plane going to London was very, very tempting. A ton of possibilities awaited me there. New windows were opening.

  I immediately got their office address and scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. It was just a meeting, after all. I haven’t decided yet. There were still plenty of things to consider. For one, my football career was at stake. And second, there was the issue of my dad. He might never forgive me for this.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Stryder

  I had never played as wonderfully as I did on that third championship game. Not only did I not want to let my teammates down, but I wanted to do my best for myself. I wanted to leave a legacy before I moved on to another venture.

  And when the Windfield Warriors was finally declared as the champion of the year, I shone with pride. Again, I was lifted onto the shoulders of the other football players, recognized as one of the most excellent players during that game.

  The whole stadium was going crazy after the game. It seemed like everybody wanted to stay and celebrate with us. I reveled in the attention and glory, smiling widely as a reporter came up to me and interviewed me. I willingly answered all her questions, eager to make a bold statement in the arena.

  I will never be forgotten, I vowed to myself. In spite of these words, though, I wasn’t yet 100% sure that I was leaving football for good. But all I was sure of was the fact that I wanted to pursue something else that made me happy and free. In this case, it’s photography.

  Tasha had always been right. If I kept pushing it away, I’ll never know what I could become in this other field. I would never find out if I could actually be even more successful and happier in this in the long run. And what’s great about it is that in this venture, I wouldn’t have my father breathing down my neck and monitoring my every move and decision.

  I recalled that moment in the Shutter Magazine office when the whole course had been laid out for me. The prestigious grant was more than I’d imagined it to be. I couldn’t possibly turn away something this big! Besides, the football season was now over.

  I looked around at the very familiar stadium, feeling nostalgic already. This will always be second home to me, no matter how long I stay away. But it was time for me to move on and discover more of myself. Who knows what adventures await me.

  That afternoon, I was already dressed in my casual clothes, with my sling bag hanging from one shoulder, when I saw my dad waving. He called me over to meet a known sports analyst. I recognized him from one of the popular sports channels on TV. He was actually offering me a spot on his TV show for a series segment on football that they will be doing very soon. The offer was breathtakingly irresistible, but I couldn’t say yes on the spot. To my father’s utter and obvious disappointment, I told the guy I’d think about it and get back to him at once.

  Once the sports analyst was out of earshot, my dad turned on me with a look of frustration. “What’s wrong with you? That’s not something you think about! It’s something you just seize because it’s the opportunity of a lifetime!”

  “For you, probably,” I retorted without hesitation. “But it’s not the same for me.”

  “Don’t throw it all away now, Stryder,” he warned.

  I shrugged in response. “I’m not. I’ve already achieved everything I ever wanted in football. But I’ve never even taken one step toward my other dream which I’d buried so deep in the layers of my being that it’s beginning to hurt me inside.”

  “What?! Don’t be crazy…”

  “It’s time to let it out, Dad.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like that lunatic of a girlfriend you used to have!” Dad said in frustration. “She’s had such a bad influence on you.”

  “On the contrary, I’m beginning to think her influence on me was totally amazing. It’s what I needed. It’s what nobody could give me—the push to go after my own happiness and freedom.”

  Before he could say another word, I took out some documents from my bag and wordlessly handed them to him. They showed the grant being offered to me. Quietly I said, “Take a look at that and see if you can be proud of me for something else other than football.”

  I walked away, leaving him speechless.

  That evening, I decided to skip the Windfield Warriors’ celebration party and go straight home to start packing my bags. My flight was tomorrow. I was determined to do two things—make the most of my photography scholarship and find Tasha in London. It was going to be a wild journey.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Tasha

  I caught a glimpse of Corky eyeing my long, lean legs as I strode across the field in my Wonder Woman costume and headed straight to the midst of the fight scene.

  “Woot! Woot!” my friend Lia shouted teasingly. She’d also gone with us to London, having been hired to stand in for one of the female villains. I was really glad she’d come.

  Many of my other stunt people friends were staying with us in the small apartment that we’d been provided with. The place wasn’t much, but it was decent enough. And the best thing was that it’s free! To top it off, I got to stay there with my closest friends in the industry.

  I positioned myself to get dragged by a helicopter, not even bothered by the risk involved in the scene. This was already our third week in London, and I was getting used to the exciting stunt portions of Wonder Woman. She was really something else.

  “You were awesome, Tash!” Corky exclaimed after I went through the scene smoothly. We gave each other a high five like kids, happily grinning from ear to ear. He was also having the time of his life being Superman and experiencing new stunts for the first time.

  “Don’t wanna say ‘I told you so’ but…” Corky started.

  I gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, laughing. “Go ahead!” I said jokingly.

  “I told you so,” he said, laughing along with me. He was definitely fun to be with, but even with the amount of time we’d spent together in this new country, my fondness for him wasn’t growing into something more. I still just saw him as a good friend, more of like a brother.

  We soon packed up and got dressed back into our normal clothes. “Where are we going to have dinner this time?” I asked my friends.

  “Yeah, all our goods at home are now gone,” Lia pointed out. “We should just eat out and then go to the market tomorrow.”

  “Okay, but it’s still early now for dinner,” Corky said.

  “I got an idea!” Lia exclaimed. “We haven’t yet indulged in European culture, you know… and I heard there’s a nice art and history museum we ca
n explore near our apartment.”

  “Since when were you interested in culture and that kinda stuff?!” Corky asked in disbelief.

  “I happen to be a very cultured woman,” Lia said exaggeratedly with a toss of her hair, which made us all laugh.

  We were nevertheless curious and were eager to do something different, so five of us went to the museum—Corky, Lia, me, and two other guys who were locals of London. It was a huge surprise that they hadn’t even gone to that exact museum yet.

  As we went from one area to another, I wandered off by myself, deeply fascinated by the display of historical relics that seemed to depict the kind of life the ancient people in that area had many, many years ago.

  Soon we came upon a modern section that had exhibits of the first camera models in London, along with black and white dilapidated photos of old London.

  “Interesting…” I whispered, suddenly picturing the look on Stryder’s face if he was to see this collection. I was certainly startled by that thought because I hadn’t been thinking of him anymore the past weeks I’d been in London. The change of scenery and our busy schedule had helped me a lot in moving on.

  I wondered how he was. I’d gotten the news that the Warriors had won the championship. It must have been a momentous occasion for him and his dad. At least they didn’t have to fight about me anymore.