33
Ryan
“Ryan?” Ian elbows me in the ribs. “Hey, what’s up with you?”
“What do you want?”
“Coach is calling you.”
I shake myself out of my stupor and look around.
“Are we lost, princess? Do you want a coffee? A magazine? Shall we paint our nails?” The coach is winding me up, and I jump to my feet a bit too quickly.
“What? Do you want to fight me, boy?”
I clench my fists tight and grind my teeth.
“Ryan,” Ian pulls me by the arm, sitting me back down.
The coach shakes his head and types something onto his tablet. Then I hear him mumble something about trust and dedication.
“What’s wrong with you today?”
“I just don’t want anyone to piss me off, okay?”
“Well maybe you should go and calm down.”
I suddenly stand up.
“Not now, you idiot!”
“O’Connor!” The coach calls me, but I pay no notice. “Jesus Christ, boy! Turn around right now or I’ll kick you straight off the team!”
I ignore him and storm inside, heading straight for the changing rooms. I grab the towel from my bag and jump under the shower. I stand there shaking under the cold water, until someone turns it off, bringing me harshly back to reality.
“Not today, Ian. Please piss off.”
“I can see today’s not the day,” he says, passing me a towel which I wrap around my waist. “I’ve been wondering what the hell happened.”
“Nothing, I’m just in a bad mood.”
“I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Shouldn’t you be at training?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
“I’m done for today.”
“It’s not up to you to decide.”
I push past him and over to the benches, grabbing my clothes from my bag, and start to hurriedly get dressed, without drying myself off.
“So? Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you really think I’d want to talk about it?”
“I’m not expecting us to cuddle as you tell me your deepest, darkest secrets. But I don’t like being ignored.”
