Game On

by Kyra Lennon

  On my walk back to my office I nearly jumped out of my skin when a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. Whipping around, I came face to face with a very angry looking McCoy. He must have been lurking outside Richard’s office waiting for me. I hadn't expected him to appear out of nowhere and it knocked the breath out of me.

  “You're leaving?”

  Even in my state of numbness, the first tingling of pain began to seep into my consciousness. I didn't want to talk to him, I wasn't ready.

  Looking at him through narrowed eyes, I released myself from his grip. “Yes. I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because I've had more than I can take from gossips and people who think I'm a slapper.”

  He watched me intently, his blue eyes staring straight into mine. “I never thought you were the type who cared what others thought about you.”

  Stop it. Stop trying to get into my head.

  He was right though. Usually I wouldn't have worried about what people were saying, but it was much more than that.

  It was him.

  The simple fact of the matter was, if I'd known I could depend on Radleigh to support me, to be with me, I could have put up with the gossip.

  That was more pathetic than I cared for and I said, “It's not only about that.”

  “What is it about?”

  “I miss my family. There's nothing left here for me now.”

  “What about your job and your friends?”

  For one minute I thought, hoped, he was going to say what about him.

  “My friends? Will can barely stand the sight of me, Jude hasn’t forgiven me since I broke up with Miguel, Richard still has difficulty looking me in the eye, and my job is becoming so unbearable I’d rather stick needles in my eyes than come here and face so much judgement every day.”

  Again, McCoy looked at me as though he had something more to say but his face hardened. “I never thought you'd be so weak, Leah.”

  Weak? Was being weak providing an alibi for someone I hated, even when it almost cost me my job? Was it being weak when I ruined my reputation and my relationship with Miguel to save his ass?

  “I'm not being weak. I’m cutting my losses.” I told him, before turning to walk away.

  I hadn't taken more than a few steps when he grabbed me again. “Don't you think running away now will make you look more guilty?”

  “Honestly, I couldn't care less what people say about me once I'm gone. I won't be here to listen to it. I'll be at home, with people who actually love and respect me.”

  “You really want to go back to that place you hated so much?” he asked in an almost taunting way. “The place with all the bad memories?”

  I used all the strength I could muster to hold in the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. I hadn’t thought it was possible for him to hurt me any more.

  “I can't believe you just used that against me.”

  “I'm not using it against you, I'm just asking you if that's really what you want to do. I can't believe you're going to throw your life here away because a few people said crappy things about you. They say things about me all the time and I haven't run away yet.”

  “That's because most of the things they say about you are true. What does it matter to you anyway? I thought you'd be glad to be rid of me so you can move on to your next conquest.”

  Again, that unreadable look crossed his face but his jaw clenched in anger.

  “You're right. You shouldn't be too difficult to replace. There are a million pretty girls out there who could easily fill your shoes.”

  His words cut through me like a knife, though I wasn't about to let it show. He was never going to have the satisfaction of knowing how much he'd got to me.

  “I'm sure there are,” I said, keeping my voice even. “And I'm sure you'll have a great time getting to know them. After all, that's what you're all about isn't it? The thrill of the chase?”

  “That's right,” he said. “No point in letting things get boring.”

  His eyes stared right at me as he used the word “boring” and the knife twisted a little further. I was more angry at myself than him though. I had handed him the power to hurt me when I told him about my past. I’d been stupid enough to think he would understand, and maybe even care. Instead, I’d given him another way to break my heart.

  Without waiting for McCoy to say anything else, I stalked along the corridor, and back to my office.

  ****

  How I managed to stop myself from bursting into tears during the afternoon, I had no idea. The numbness returned, and I immersed myself in it, blocking Radleigh out of my head. I couldn't believe the way he’d reacted to the news of me leaving, and his confirmation that I was nothing more than another notch on his bedpost was more than I could stand.

  Freya put my emotional mood down to the stress I’d been dealing with. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. In order to cheer me up, she decided to hold a mini party for me at our apartment that night. What I really wanted to do was drown in my own depression but she was too good a friend to let me do that.

  There was one more thing I had to do before I attempted to pretend to enjoy myself. I had to call home.

  It took me a full hour to prepare myself to pick up the phone. I had no idea how to break the news to my parents, and my reluctance to do so wasn't helped by the knowledge that I just didn't want to go back. My mum was, predictably, ecstatic when I told her. She said she knew I’d “come to my senses” eventually. As much as I loved her, I hated that turn of phrase. It made me feel like a failure.

  I didn’t have too much time to wallow in my sadness. I took a quick shower and changed my clothes, ready for my friends to attempt to break me out of my funk.

  Will, Jesse, Bree and Miguel showed up at seven, bringing with them a feast of Chinese food, just because they knew it was my favourite. It was a strange mix of people. Will, who still hadn’t quite got over the fact that I slept with Radleigh, Jesse, who was still nursing a broken heart, Miguel, the man whose heart I’d stomped on, and Bree, who … well she barely noticed anything had changed. Collectively though, they were still my friends and it was hard to be unhappy when they were being so supportive.

  “I think,” Bree announced, when we were all stuffed with food and sprawled all over the living room, “that I should be allowed to drink wine tonight.”

  “And why do you think that?” Will asked from his spot on the sofa. “You are underage, little lady!”

  “Because,” she went on, “Leah won’t be here for my big 21st birthday party, and that means she won’t see me the first time I get drunk!”

  I’d forgotten about Bree’s party. The invites hadn’t gone out yet because it wasn’t until the end of the year but she hadn’t wasted any time making sure everyone saved the date.

  Giggles echoed around the room. “I appreciate you thinking of me but I’m not sure if I want to see you getting pissed and embarrassing yourself in the name of celebration!”

  “Bree embarrasses herself even without alcohol,” Jesse teased, sitting up straighter. “But she has a point. Leah won’t be here for my 21st either so I think I should have a beer … you know … because I don’t want her to miss out.”

  “Ha! Your 21st is years away kiddo,” I laughed. “No beer for you! Anyway, it’s not like either of you have never had alcohol before!”

  Jesse and Bree both faked an identical look of mock horror, causing everyone to burst out laughing again.

  “She’s right,” Freya said, looking at Bree. “We were there the night you demanded to try vodka after our first, and last, Zumba class.”

  “Oh my God!” Bree squealed. “I thought I was going to die from the dizziness!”

  “Well you’re not meant to neck the whole glass when you’re not used to it.”

  “You could have told me!”

  “You didn’t give us the chance!”

  “Okay,” Miguel said, grinning. “Bree has earned a glass of w
ine because we’ve been picking on her.”

  Bree saluted him then poured herself a gigantic glass of red, sipping it slowly and licking her lips.

  “Mmm, delish!”

  I reached over to the cooler that was beside me and handed Jesse a beer. “Don’t tell anyone I’m leading you astray, okay?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Where I come from, people can drink from the age of eighteen so let’s pretend we’re in England tonight.”

  Jesse smiled when I winked at him, then as everyone began to break off into their own little conversations, I turned around to look at Will.

  “You okay? You’re pretty quiet tonight.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. I broke up with Heather a couple hours ago.”

  I heaved myself around to fully face him. “You what? Why?”

  Will shrugged. “It just wasn’t right. She was too clingy. I really hated feeling like I couldn’t even leave my apartment without her asking where I was going and how long I’d be.”

  “I’m sorry. But you don’t look too upset.”

  “That’s because I’m not. I don’t think it was ever going to work. The more needy she got, the more I wanted to get away. Maybe now it’s over I can get my friendship with Freya back on track. I mean … that was one of the problems, right? She felt left out.”

  Shaking my head, I lifted myself up to my knees so I could whisper in his ear. “She didn’t feel left out, she’s in love with you.”

  Alcohol wasn’t the motivator for my revelation. Even though it wasn’t my place to tell him, I couldn’t stand the idea of him wasting any more time when it was so obvious how much they cared for each other.

  Will’s eyes widened and he sat bolt upright, then sprang to his feet and dragged me across the room and out to the balcony, closing the doors behind us.

  “Well, luckily nobody noticed,” I said, sarcastically. Everyone inside was staring, probably because we’d trampled over them as he’d pulled me outside.

  “Sorry, sorry. But … what?”

  “Can you really be that stupid? Your inability to see the bigger picture is astonishing. Freya is in love with you. She has been for years and you are the only person who doesn’t see it.”

  He stared at me for a moment, processing the information.

  “That’s impossible. If she … I would know if she … if she felt that way about me, right?”

  “You’d think so but, no.”

  He leaned back against the railings and let out a sigh. “Wow. Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  Will’s mouth opened to protest, but he changed his mind and sighed. “Because it didn’t occur to me that she would ever have feelings for me. I’m Will, her buddy, he co-worker.”

  “I’m really starting to think I’m in high school again. It shouldn’t take me saying, ‘Hey, guess what, my friend fancies you,’ to get you to see what’s obvious.”

  “I’m a guy. We’re notoriously dumb when it comes to women.”

  “You’re thirty-two. You should have learned something by now, especially when that something is that your best friend has spent the last few months wanting to die because she didn’t know how to cope with her feelings for you.”

  Probably more information than he needed, but I was on a roll. Will’s eyes glistened. “What do I do now?”

  “Once you’ve recovered from the shock, you should talk to her about it.”

  He nodded. “I guess I have to. Thank you, Leah. I don’t think I deserve this much help after the way I’ve been since, well, you know.”

  Will stood awkwardly, fidgeting a little on the spot.

  “We don’t need to talk about that,” I told him.

  “I am sorry though,” Will said. “I should have listened instead of writing you off.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’re supporting me now. Let’s leave the past behind us.”

  Chapter 19: Do I Want A Drink?

  My last four weeks at work were like hell on Earth. Once the news of my resignation spread, it was only natural that more rumours began circulating to replace the old ones. The most popular was that Radleigh had dumped me, breaking my heart and causing me to quit. I suppose that wasn't so far from the truth though. He hadn't “dumped” me but he'd made it clear that he didn't want me.

  And it did break my heart.

  In spite of my endless protests that I'd never fall for an arrogant sleazeball again, that Radleigh McCoy would never mean anything to me, I’d been kidding myself. Seeing him every day was torture. He wouldn't speak to me at all unless it was absolutely necessary.

  The heart I always kept so well protected had been dented, then torn in half and I wasn't sure it would ever heal.

  I cried a lot. Only when I was alone, of course. At work I was just as I always was. But at the end of each day I would hide myself in my room and weep, letting the stress pour out of me.

  My friends, the few that I had left, helped to keep my spirits high. I wasn’t a mess when I was with them. I had a lot of organising to do before leaving for England. I’d decided that, rather than prolong my stay in America, I would leave as soon as I could so I had to pack up all of my things and have them shipped back to my parents’ house. I couldn't believe how much stuff I’d accumulated. My time with the Warriors was only a tiny proportion of the time I'd been in America, and when I'd first arrived I had practically nothing, ready to start afresh.

  I could barely believe that at the age of twenty-six I was going backwards.

  ****

  When my final weekend in America arrived, I’d reached that weird stage of numbness again. In some ways, it was welcome. It meant I didn't have to feel the pain of leaving. But it also meant that I couldn't fully appreciate the time I had left.

  I was due to return to England on a Sunday morning in early July. My last working day was in Iowa, where the team had a match that weekend. I had to fly from Iowa, which was to be the destination for my leaving party, back to L.A to collect my things, then catch my flight to London. From London I had to fly to Newquay, where my parents would be waiting to collect me for the last part of my journey home, by which time it would be very late on Sunday night and I would be comatose.

  But before that nightmare journey I had a few final days with my friends, and my leaving party which was to take place on Saturday night. It was really just an excuse for everyone to go out to a club and drink too much but that was fine with me.

  Getting ready to go out is always both exciting and nerve-wracking. The buzz of a night out, versus the stress of making sure you look good is overwhelming. When you threw in the fact that it was my last night out with the team and that it would be the last time I'd see Radleigh, there was an added pressure I didn’t need.

  The pressure was also on Will, who still hadn’t made his move on Freya in spite of having every opportunity. I was starting to think the idea of them as a couple would always be just that. An idea.

  “What if nobody comes?” I asked Freya, as I walked out of the bathroom. I’d chosen to wear the blue dress I wore to Alison’s wedding. Somewhere in the depths of my brain, I thought maybe the memory of that night might trigger Radleigh to … I don’t know … say something, anything to me that was more than the occasional grunt in passing.

  Freya, who was applying some lip gloss, turned to look at me. “Don't be ridiculous. It's your last night!”

  “Yeah, so? Most people here still hate me.”

  “No, they don't. You can count on me, Bree, Will, Jesse and Miguel as definites. Even if nobody else shows, isn't it more important that you spend the evening with the people who love you rather than a bunch of strangers?”

  I nodded. “You're right. I guess I'm just nervous.”

  “Nervous? Why?”

  With a deep sigh I said, “After tonight, it will all be over. This whole experience will have been like a really long dream and when I wake up I'll be at home, as if I ne
ver left.”

  It was just too Wizard of Oz for words.

  “Oh, Leah,” she said, coming over to hug me, “It won't be that way. We won't forget you.”

  “I know,” I replied. “I'm just going to miss you so much.”

  “Hey,” she said, firmly, although there was the slightest wobble in her voice. “Let's save the tearful goodbyes for tomorrow, okay? Tonight we are having fun!”

  When we arrived at the club, I was surprised to see it was already jam packed with people. Scanning the room, I took note of who had turned up – as well as trying to spot Radleigh in the crowd.

  I couldn’t see him anywhere.

  Freya immediately led me to the bar where there was a clamour of people offering to buy me leaving drinks. I took a cocktail from Will, then he, Freya, Bree and I found an available table and sat chatting for a while. My eyes kept drifting around the room, fully expecting to see Radleigh dancing with someone younger and infinitely less trouble than me. But as the evening wore on it became more and more obvious that he wasn't there.

  He wasn't coming.

  Whenever he popped into my mind, I danced. I spent the majority of the evening on my feet, drinking, and accepting the good wishes of almost everyone on the team. Despite the gossip that had been circulating about me for weeks, a decent number of people seemed sad that I was leaving, and wished me all the best for the future. If they had been so supportive a few weeks ago, I may not have made the same decisions.

  Don’t fool yourself. All the support in the world means nothing if you can’t get it from the one person you want it from.

  Obviously, it was time for another drink.

  I excused myself from the dance floor in search of another Cosmopolitan. Bryce Warren was standing at the far end of the bar and as I approached, he gave me a warm grin.

  “Hey, Leah. I was hoping to catch you tonight. I wanted to say I'm sorry you're leaving. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for back at home.”

  “Thanks, Bryce,” I replied, his dark eyes penetrating me. His gaze left me wondering if he was referring to my relationship with McCoy.