Winning the Player

by Leesa Bow

  ‘She looks —’

  ‘She’s nineteen.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. She won’t remember.’ Why couldn’t he understand?

  Hunter grabbed my wrist and I yelped. ‘Go home, Aubree. She’s not you. This is not happening to you. I’ll call you tomorrow.’ His breath reeked of beer.

  My throat burned. ‘You’re sending me home? Are you also going to behave like this tonight?’ I gave a single nod in Millsy’s direction.

  ‘That’s not even funny.’

  ‘I’m not laughing,’ I croaked.

  ‘The guys are just having fun. Christ, we’ve had a huge season and only get a few weeks off. There’s nothing wrong with going out and getting lucky. Do you not understand anything?’

  And in a blink of an eye my world shifted. ‘I understand everything.’ He yanked on my arm before I could walk away.

  ‘Call you tomorrow,’ he said again, and kissed my cheek. Mixed emotions ran through me as I headed towards the door. A sharp pain in my chest pushed me to walk faster. Like he was in a time warp, Hunter had acted like the man I’d despised three years earlier, and the memory cracked my heart. I no longer knew him, or myself.

  I deserved better than this.

  I made it back to my car before I started crying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I barely slept, tossing and turning, thinking about Hunter drinking with the guys and going into the city . . .

  While eating breakfast, an image of Hunter with a girl popped into my head. I pushed it out and hoped nothing like that had happened. Who was I kidding? Hunter and his football teammates, drinking and out on the town—the perfect recipe for attracting the opposite sex. Hell, most of my memories of Hunter were like that.

  For the next hour I checked my phone every five minutes, knowing he’d arrived in Melbourne around seven. No missed calls were registered. I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to call first. In my opinion, he remained in the wrong and I still felt mad, sad, disappointed—with him and myself.

  I wanted him to call yet didn’t want him to call. I wanted to know about his night yet didn’t want to know.

  What happened to Ellen?

  I threw dirty clothes into the washing machine and slammed the lid closed. Why was I wasting time thinking in a negative way? Last night, I’d decided to make a change for the future, my future, starting today.

  When the machine beeped I unloaded the clothes and carried the basket outside. Mum positioned her chair in the sun and watched as I hung out the washing. Now and then I caught a fresh freesia scent. Small birds chirped in the trees and bees hummed in the garden. I watched a white butterfly float down and land on a purple pansy.

  The crisp white colour jolted my memory to Gran’s theories about colours. She liked white, saying it was a sign of something fresh and new.

  New life, new beginnings. Maybe a sign? I glanced at Mum and noticed her gaze was fixed on the butterfly. I walked over to her and touched her shoulder. ‘It’s lovely.’

  Mum wiped a tear from her eye. ‘This time of year’s difficult,’ she said softly. ‘I look to my garden for strength and happiness when September’s clouded by sadness.’

  ‘No clouds today,’ I said in a cheery tone. ‘Nothing but blue sky. Your flowers are beautiful. You should be proud of how hard you worked to create something so wonderful. Even the butterfly thinks so.’

  ‘A white butterfly.’ She looked up at me.

  ‘I think Gran is trying to tell us something.’

  ‘It’s time to move on,’ she said, more to herself.

  ‘Speaking of which,’ I said. ‘I’m applying for university today, primary school teaching.’

  Mum reached out and took my hand in hers. ‘You of all people can achieve anything when you put your mind to it, Aubree. I’m glad you’ve committed to setting up your future.’

  At four in the afternoon I prepared vegetables to add to the lamb roast. I intended to be organised so I could hit the gym with Maddy while the meal cooked in the oven.

  Mum rested on her bed. I scribbled a note before leaving, explaining I’d be home to serve dinner. As I parked the car I heard my phone vibrate on the seat with two new messages. My stomach fluttered, hoping they were from Hunter. Then it dropped just as fast when neither was. I locked the car and read the messages as I walked. The first was from Maddy explaining she couldn’t make it to the gym tonight due to a family commitment. The second was from Rachel Bond.

  New business cards have arrived. Call me in a week to meet and plan next season. More players interested since you’ve come on board.

  I smiled, proud that I’d committed, and for taking another step towards moving on with my life.

  In a way I was glad Maddy couldn’t make it to the gym so I didn’t have to pretend everything was okay between me and Hunter.

  There I’d said it. We were not okay.

  It was undeniable. His silence after our little disagreement—knowing how strongly I felt about drunken sex—confirmed how little he cared about our relationship. The writing was on the wall and I’d just chosen to keep my head down.

  It really started a week ago with the late-night calls he took in another room. Then when we were together, he’d sit with me hardly speaking. But the sex had remained amazing. My heart sank further thinking how he’d acted about sex with his mates at the bar.

  His talent.

  Last night was the final straw of realisation. He preferred to be with the boys rather than me. The Hunter of old was back.

  After setting the timer on the treadmill, I played my favourite songs and for a while my spirits lifted, until the lyrics reminded me of Hunter. After a dozen songs I gave up and unplugged my iPhone. My gaze went to the television on the wall.

  What the . . .

  Hunter’s face, enormous on screen, looked back at me. I hit the channel button trying to change it on the treadmill. I slowed the speed arrow to a walk. I missed part of the segment, but the reporter had said Hunter was in Melbourne signing a new multimillion-dollar contract. A reliable source claimed Hunter had been in negotiations for the past week with the Koalas football team.

  I stumbled, grabbed hold of the bar with one hand and hit the emergency stop button with the other. A chill engulfed my chest as I recalled the late-night phone calls. I looked at his big blue eyes on the screen, the same eyes that sparkled when we were wrapped in each other’s arms. Suddenly, a new image flashed up. I gasped. My stomach plummeted at the same speed as the Giant Drop ride when I saw Hunter with Sabrina.

  Hunter and his mates were sitting on stools around a bar, and Sabrina was kissing Hunter on the cheek. He smiled, as if he was enjoying the attention. This was a recent photograph, as his head was shaved. I turned up the volume.

  Hunter Stone was spotted celebrating with his friends. They congratulated him on his decision to play with the Koalas in Melbourne and it is clear from our images that he’s a happy man. The Koalas and Hunter Stone were not available for comment. Hunter is expected to return to Adelaide within the next couple of days.

  I jumped off the machine, grabbed my bag and ran outside. I tapped Hunter’s name into my phone and waited for him to pick up. By the time I reached the car I was out of breath. The call went straight to voicemail.

  I inhaled deeply. ‘Hunter, what the hell is going on? Why didn’t you tell me you intended to leave? Is that what last night was about? Call me.’

  Inside the car I rested my head on the steering wheel, trying to make sense of everything. My throat burned and my head thumped with every heartbeat. My stomach ached as though someone had punched me fair in the centre. I blinked away tears, hearing Sabrina’s voice in my head.

  Hunter will never stay in a relationship and he’ll always run back to me.

  Yet that day on the beach he’d denied everything Sabrina had said. He’d even had tears in his eyes.

  I revved the engine and steered the car out of the parking lot, wishing I’d stayed overseas for a few more months.
Hunter would have been in Melbourne for preseason training. Our paths would not have crossed and I wouldn’t be feeling like my world had just ended, again.

  Now I understood what love songs meant about that empty feeling inside your heart: mine felt as though it had been ripped from my chest cavity.

  When I pulled up in the driveway I tried to call Hunter again. It went straight to voicemail. ‘Hunter, please call me,’ I said softly, before hanging up.

  Then I called Maddy.

  ‘Aubree,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Hey.’ Awkward silence.

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve seen the news.’ Her voice sounded apprehensive.

  ‘Yes. Did you know?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t,’ she said quickly. ‘No one knows anything. We don’t even know if it’s true.’

  ‘He’s in Melbourne,’ I said. ‘Caught the red-eye flight this morning. I haven’t heard from him since last night. I told you he’d been acting weird. And all the phone calls he takes in the other room.’ A single sob escaped my throat.

  ‘Have you called him tonight?’ Maddy asked.

  ‘Yes. He hasn’t picked up. He lied to me. He said he was going because of his suspension.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘We kind of had a fight last night. I’m not even sure if we’re still together.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, but it kind of adds up. He wanted to stay out with the boys. He’s drifting.’

  ‘No way. His mum doesn’t even know anything. I think it’s all bull.’

  ‘Well, call me if you hear anything.’

  ‘And you call me.’

  I ended the call thinking how Hunter had deceived everyone who cared about him. What was so important that he had to keep it a secret? Maybe Hunter wanted to move on, too. His football had always come first and the new team promised a big, no, a bigger future.

  I opened the front door to see Mum on the couch watching the television. Her eyes widened, then her face turned grave. She’d seen the news. With quick steps I crossed the room and collapsed next to her, rested my head on her shoulder and burst into tears.

  Mum put her arm around my shoulders. ‘Are you up to driving to Gran’s tonight?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The front porch light burned bright, attracting moths and other small insects. I lifted our overnight case from the boot and followed Mum towards the front door. Gran must have heard the car as moments later the front door swung open.

  Gran took Mum by the shoulders and studied her face.

  ‘I’m fine. Really I am.’ Mum turned her head, glanced at me and then turned back to Gran. ‘It’s Aubree.’

  Deep down I acknowledged Mum didn’t have the strength to handle my sadness. Gran radiated inner strength, so it was better that Mum and I stayed with her for a few days rather dragging Mum down to my emotional level.

  Gran looked over at me. ‘Does it involve the same man?’

  My chin tipped lower. Pathetic. I’d cried for over an hour and still wasn’t done crying.

  ‘Come inside. Put your bags in the front bedroom. I’ll make a pot of tea.’

  I followed Gran inside to the kitchen, stood there for a moment. I couldn’t do this. Not tonight. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said to Mum and Gran. ‘I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  I strode to the spare bedroom, pulled back the quilt and climbed into bed without changing my clothes. I curled into a ball, closed my eyes and hugged my knees. My body trembled, cold and empty. My chest ached. So many mixed emotions ran through my head. In desperation I reached for my phone, hoping Hunter had called or at least left a message.

  Nothing. I checked Twitter. No tweets.

  It was after ten. I searched for a reason for him not to message me. Nothing made sense. Hunter would know how I’d react to hearing the news, yet he still hadn’t called. It sent a clear message that he didn’t care for me as much as he cared for football. The game dictated his future regardless of whether he hurt people along the way. I’d become another casualty.

  I scrolled through tweets, ignoring comments about Hunter’s big move to the Koalas. Since he hadn’t returned my calls I expressed myself on Twitter, hoping he’d read them.

  @AubsTaylor: I trusted you, and then you lied to me #neveragain#learntfrommymistakes

  Then I sent Maddy another text.

  Heard anything?

  Minutes later she replied.

  Only that he’s in Melbourne meeting with the Koalas’ president but not sure if he signed anything.

  My stomach flipped. This practically confirmed he was negotiating his future. My chest tightened at the realisation of how little he thought of me, even as a friend. If he didn’t trust me to discuss matters like this, then realistically I’d never be part of his long-term plans. Was I just his fuck buddy?

  Tears rolled from my eyes. My phone vibrated in my hand and I jumped.

  Maddy’s name flashed across the screen.

  ‘Hey, Mads.’

  ‘I couldn’t talk before. I’ve just left the room. Are you okay?’

  I took in a deep breath. ‘No, not really. It just hurts. He could have told me.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, babe. That’s Hunter. You know I love him, but his football has always come first. But I love you more. You’re my best friend, Aubs.’

  ‘I know.’ I squeezed my eyes shut. ‘I’m sorry you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.’

  ‘Bull to that. I’m worried about you. I mean, I could tell you were starting to like him.’ She moaned loudly. ‘I don’t get it. He fought to get you and I thought he really liked you.’

  ‘So did I.’

  ‘I’ll come over. It can be like old times. I’ll stay with you until you hear something.’

  My eyes flashed open. I didn’t want her to know my whereabouts. ‘No. I’m fine, really.’ The sound of pity in her voice made me feel sick. She was right. It was just like old times. Pathetic me. ‘Mum and I have something planned.’

  ‘Aubree . . . don’t let this get you down.’

  I snorted under my breath. I hadn’t told her about the night out with his friends. There was nothing she or I could do to change things. I could, however, change the future and learn from my mistakes.

  ‘No, I’ll be fine. Really. It’s for the best. I knew what Hunter was about before I got involved with him. It was never going to be anything serious. I mean I’m not stupid, Mads. You used to tell me you never wanted your friends to get caught up with him because he’d only break their heart, and that would hurt you. I should’ve listened.’

  ‘Aubree, we were fifteen. He’s changed, so have you.’

  ‘He’s trying to change. There’s a difference.’

  Maddy didn’t speak for a few seconds. I couldn’t continue to bag her cousin. And I honestly was done talking about him. Every mention of his name sent a crushing sensation through my chest.

  ‘I’d better go, Mads. Talk to you soon. We should go out on the weekend,’ I said, my voice sounding higher, the last few words fake.

  ‘Yes. We should.’ She sounded equally unconvincing. ‘Call me if you hear from him.’

  ‘Sure.’

  I disconnected the call and noticed my phone battery was low. In the rush of leaving I’d forgotten to pack the charger. It would be some kind of miracle if Gran or Mum had one. No longer kidding myself about the possibility of Hunter calling, I switched off my phone to save the battery, rolled over and tried to sleep.

  My eyes fluttered open to white lace curtains embellished with daisies – not my bedroom. A pain gnawed at my heart, reminding me that the nightmare was real. I closed my eyes trying to wish away the pain, erase the image of Sabrina giving Hunter a congratulatory kiss. Hunter claimed he didn’t trust her, no longer liked her, yet he’d confided in her about his future – like a girlfriend.

  Sabrina had no reason to hate me, in fact she’d tried to warn me. When I thought back, I remember seeing a pained l
ook in her eyes, one of defeat and embarrassment that she’d always take him back.

  Is that what I really wanted for my future? A man I couldn’t trust? A quick ending without warning meant sharp pain for less time, like ripping off a Band-Aid. And Hunter didn’t seem the type to drag out matters, endure a situation he didn’t feel comfortable in. It certainly felt like we had come to the end of the road.

  My mother and grandmother had raised me to take the good with the bad, and deal with the curve balls life throws. I had to get through this not only for myself, but also for my family.

  The salty aroma of bacon cooking wafted into my room. My stomach growled, considering I hadn’t eaten since . . . I took a deep breath and headed to the kitchen.

  Light conversation over breakfast indicated Mum wanted to avoid talking about Hunter. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach when Gran suggested we meet in the garden for morning tea. There was no evading the fact that she was about to give me the talk.

  While Gran cooked scones, I showered. When I walked out of the bedroom then down the long carpeted hallway, I could see Mum and Gran through the flyscreen door, sitting under the pergola drinking tea.

  ‘They were very close,’ I heard Mum say.

  I swung the door open and walked towards them. ‘Scones smell good, Gran.’

  ‘Good. Eat up. Your mum just filled me in on the footballer who broke your heart.’ Gran’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  I smothered a cough. The way she put it made me sound like I was just another girl on a footballer’s long list of broken hearts. Someone I vowed never to become.

  ‘Sit down, Aubree.’

  My hands trembled. I no longer wanted food.

  ‘I’m not going to beat around the bush with you. What was it about this man that you thought you could change?’ She pointed to the plate of scones. ‘Eat.’

  I shook my head. ‘I believed he cared enough to trust me. I trusted him not to see other girls and we promised not to keep secrets from each other. I didn’t want to change him.’

  ‘Did he do those things before you? Was he secretive? Did he sleep around?’