A grunt escapes my lips as I push my body to its limit. I force my mind to focus on my breathing and posture instead of the burning pain in my calves and quadriceps as I bend my knee. The lunge motion is a movement that is used multiple times by players throughout a game. Whether it's during defence or trying to attack out of a triple threat, a motion similar to the lateral lunges is used. It's a very useful exercise for the development of leg strength and flexibility in the hip and core area.
But I hate the sh*t.
However, the PT recommended exercise has helped with my knees and so far the lingering reminder of my accident is starting to be a thing of the past.
The guys are f*cking around behind me. Ryan and Wesley are play boxing and Sawyer's pretending to be the coach while Dante and Neal are 'judging' as they work with the dumbbells. I want to snap at them but I know they've all completed their workout and Riley wouldn't be giving us shit at practice tomorrow. Preseason games start this week and it's got the coach on edge as usual. Not that I blame the man. I'm back on the team and I haven't played in over a year.
I'm on edge.
Our first game for the preseason NIT is in less than 6 days and we've got another one barely 48 hours after. The NIT is a pretty big deal for college basketball teams as only 16 of the best teams gets invited to play. We never had to worry about getting an invitation. As long as Riley's the coach, UCLA will continue getting invited. The games are spread out throughout November with the semifinals and finals being held during thanksgiving week. Although everyone knows getting invited is as important as winning, UCLA has not lost in the last 6 years.
There will be a lot of eyes on me as soon as I get on that court. Everyone will be watching-judging. Every single error that would have been overlooked in the past will now be linked to my accident, planting doubts in the mind of NBA draft teams. They'll start doubting my capabilities. Am I going to be a liability? Is there an injury I'm hiding? Am I on f*cking painkillers? Am I juicing?
I was trying to avoid that shit when I kept my accident off the media a year ago. Of course, rumours went around campus, people saw me in a leg cast and I didn't attend classes for months or play basketball for the season and the media ate that shit up but my accident was never confirmed. Not by me. Not by Riley. And not by the college. My accident was merely a rumour and my father made sure it stayed that way.
But the sophomore didn't keep quiet and everything that I've worked for might be going to sh*t. It terrifies me. How am I supposed to own that court if all I can think about is that? If my head's not straight? The pressure of wanting to be perfect is eating me alive because getting drafted means a lot to me. It's all I've ever wanted.
"Murtaugh," Sawyer calls and I find myself turning towards him. The loud music that was playing in the background has gone down to a soft sound as I catch a glimpse of myself in the indoor gym mirror. The flimsy tank top I'm wearing is drenched with sweat.
Ryan and Neal are walking out of the gym laughing at a joke made by Wesley who's in tow. I glance between Sawyer and Dante who now have a serious expression on as the bunch shut the door behind them. Dante moves from where he's standing and sits on the bench press.
"What's up?" I ask walking towards my bottle of protein shake.
"Funny, that's what we were about to ask you." He adds. I take a long sip of the shake, not turning around to face either of them.
Dante and Sawyer have pretty much given me space since my interview and the shit that happened afterwards with Lorraine. I'm glad they did so without me having to ask. Coach on the other hand gave me a lot of sh*t about it. It was a malicious move to paint Lorraine out to be what she isn't. But I didn't expect her to write about my accident after she promised not to. For a while, the blinding anger made me believe I did the right thing but seeing what the trolls said about her made me realise otherwise. What they said was messed up.
No one deserves that.
I turned her into some sort of pariah. She stopped attending classes neither did I accidentally run into her at Starbucks or see her anywhere around school. Reaching out to her would have been pretty stupid so I did what I could do best. I ignored the situation and focused on playing ball.
And everything was weighing down on me.
My mum finally messaged me-not about coming back home but that her "work" would be taking longer and she doesn't know when she'd be back. Not only am I worried sick about her, I've also got a 5 year old on my hands who needs attention and is hoping her grandma comes home for thanksgiving. I've got classes to take if I want to graduate with my class, I've got basketball games and the draft to worry about. I've got an angry and hurt sophomore because of my own actions.
I was a walking, ticking bomb about to explode and Justin Locket just happened to be the one to set me off. When I heard what he said about her, all I saw was red. And Bradley had the audacity to call me a hypocrite. It would have led to another fight if the guys didn't pull me away. It made me angrier that he was right. It is hypocritical of me to get angry because of the result of something I said.
I turn to face my friends and I'm glad my expression gives nothing away "what do you mean?"
"You've been quiet since that damn interview. It's never a good sign when you're silent." Sawyer admits. His green eyes dance from me to Dante as if waiting for him to back up his statement but the dark haired boy stares ahead. "We want to make sure your head's right, you know, for your own sake...and the team's."
"Dude-" Dante starts but I cut him off before he can bash Sawyer for being insensitive. It should get me angry but it doesn't because I know Sawyer-that's the best the idiot can do to show he cares. However something else gets me angry. Two years ago nobody would have asked me that. And I was way more messed up back then than now but no one ever doubted me. Not my coach, not my friends. I never even doubted myself.
But an accident would change all of that.
"I'm fine," I spit forcing the anger into the pit of my stomach, "you don't have to worry about the game."
"If anything's going on with you, you'd tell us right?" Sawyer adds "I know I f*ck around a lot but I do care about you pricks."
I roll my eyes as if to say, like I don't know that. But there's nothing they can do to help. Plus we've all got our sh*t which means I can't dump my problems on them so I insist that it's pregame nerves and change the subject to the Halloween party happening tonight before we leave for campus in the morning. Sawyer's planned everything, except for the drinks and cups which he needs me to get because he's got a preplanned f*ck with Melissa. I accept to go buy the drinks mainly because I need to get out for a bit and clear my head and I don't want to be a cockblock.
After a sh*t breakfast made by one of the girls Ryan brought over to my dad's place, I slip away from the loud conversation about how basketball's better than football and make my way up to my room. I make a mental note to call the agency who normally comes to clean our sh*t up when we leave after Halloween. Although, I've only allowed a few people to crash at my dad's I couldn't stop the influx of people who came to the pool party and slipped upstairs to do whatever sh*t. The party was moved here from Sawyer's because this house has a bigger pool so the house would need thorough cleaning. I don't want my father calling me for any reason.
When I enter my room, there's a Lorraine shaped lump underneath the covers. She had a lot to drink last night so I'm not surprised she's still asleep. A persistent part of me goes around the bed to make sure she's breathing and the feeling that hits my chest at the sight of her laying in my bed surprises me yet again.
God, she's beautiful.
There's a softness to her appearance, a look of warmth married to that of comfortability. Eyelids closed, her breathing is relaxed and deep. She looks totally at peace, a contrast to the turmoil of the last few days. My eyes roam her body and I remember how flushed she felt against me. My nightmare is the only thing that keeps me awake but last night, it was her. The feel of her, the soft moan that escapes her when she stirs, the feel of her breasts when she's pushed up against me, her warms hands when they're searching to press against my chest to pull me closer.
Every minute I'm forced to remind myself it's the sophomore. If there's anything I'm sure of, it's the innocence behind her actions. She wouldn't know seduction if it hit her in the face but the boner I nursed all night seemed to disagree.
I march to the en-suite before I can let my mind stray too far. I spend enough time in the shower to clear my head. To clear the confusing way the sophomore is making me feel, to forget about every single thing on my mind.
By the time I'm out, my bed is empty and my phone is going off. I tell myself it's a good thing she's gone but I hate that I crave her presence. When I reach my phone, I stiffen at the number.
***
We were in and out. We because Sawyer decided to tell Bronte to join me. Not that I'm complaining, I haven't spoken to my best friend in weeks and I know she's mad. Her being here could only mean one thing-she wants to make up.
The shopping was quick-thanks to Bronte tagging along and soon we're hauling the bags back to my car in the parking lot. Well, I'm juggling the bags, Bronte's busy on her phone. "Are you not going to help me?" I question with a roll of my eyes but she does good to ignore me just as she has been since she got in my car. Scratch that, since she arrived two nights ago "Come on B. Are you still giving me the silent treatment?"
"I don't know," She glances away from her phone, angry eyes directed my way "I don't feel like talking to you."
"For why?" I question even though I have a rough idea why.
"I called you about a thousand times because your niece wanted to speak with you and you ignored all of my calls." I groan to myself wishing I didn't put my phone on silent for the day but a lot was going on post my interview and I needed to shut the world out. Even if it was for a day.
"I forgot to take my phone off silent," I admit truthfully. No point beating around the bush with Bronte. If anyone can fish out when I'm lying, it's her. The girl knows me almost more than I know myself and it's scary sometimes. I've known her as long as I've been alive.
We grew up in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools, have the same friends, went through everything together. When my dad left and hers got back from the military and started hitting her mum, when mum was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and hers ran away from home, when Robin left and came back with a baby and B came out, when Robin died and I started spiralling out of control. She never left and I'm thankful for that. No matter how hard I try to push the fiery redhead away, she'd remind me of the promise we made at the small age of 6 is forever.
"You also forgot to call me back when you saw my missed calls. Did you even listen to all the voice mails I sent you?" When I don't reply, she scoffs and I know that's pissed her off even more. "Do you know how hard it is to repeatedly lie to a child?"
"B-"
"I volunteered to stay with your niece for a day because it's freaking Halloween weekend and I didn't want her spending the entire family holiday with a sitter. All that I asked for you to do was to answer your phone. That's all I asked Charlie and you couldn't even do that or listen to my voicemails?"
As we get to the car, I turn around to face Bronte. She looks disappointed which isn't an unusual expression when she's around me. Before I can open my mouth to apologise, my phone buzzes loudly in my pocket. She raises her eyebrows and I sigh "Could you get that for me?" I ask which causes Bronte to scoff as she nods and looks away. "Well, my hands are kind of full."
Bronte walks behind me and fishes out my phone and car key from my back pocket before turning back to me. She's frowning at the screen when I turn to face her and I know who it is before she speaks. "It's your dad, " she says and I clench my jaw.
"Unlock the door please." Bronte does so and I shove the bags in the backseat before slamming the door shut. I try to ignore the continuous ringing of my phone but the sounds don't go away because as soon as it ends, he calls again.
"You gonna answer it?"
"No."
She doesn't say anything and we both get in the car. As soon as I start the car, a series of pinging sounds go off and I let out an annoyed sigh. "What the f*ck does he want?" Bronte hands me my phone and my eyes skim over the bunch of texts from him. I roll my eyes at the bullsh*t on the screen.
"What is it?"
"He wants to see his granddaughter for thanksgiving." I read out "he wants us to come to their lovely home in Beverly Hills."
"Are you planning on going?"
"I'm busy."
"Too busy to give Mila a little bit of family time?" Bronte shoots back and I throw her an annoyed look.
"He's not her family."
"Because he's not your father, yeah, yeah, you say that all the time. But he is-whether you like it or not. Mila deserves to know her grandfather. This vendetta against your dad shouldn't involve her."
"This isn't up for debate B, I'm not meeting him." The atmosphere in the car is tense and in the moment of the short silence, I let out another breath. Bronte has always thought there's something to be saved between my dad and me but there isn't. Doesn't make being a jerk alright "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Ignoring your calls and not listening to your voicemails. And for getting in a fight with Justin even though the d*ck deserved it."
"For saying the same thing you said? Isn't that a tad bit hypocritical?" She shakes her head "you can't defend her if you haven't apologised to her and then shove your tongue down her throat."
"She kissed me." I defend.
"She doesn't look like the type to randomly kiss a guy. You must have put her in a position where she thought it was okay to do so. Don't blame the girl."
"How'd you even know that in the first place? Please don't tell me you were hiding in the closet all night."
"I spoke to her."
Surprised, I glance at her "About me? About the kiss? What'd she say?" I hate that I'm desperate to know her reaction which cannot be good considering I left her. But 5 minutes forcing myself to think about anything other than taking her right there was torture. Regardless of what the sophomore thinks, it was the best decision that could have been made.
"Chill, Johnny Bravo. Not everything is about you." She rolls her eyes and I chuckle lightly "And she didn't tell me about the kiss, I figured it out because I know you. It's not unlike you to pull dumb sh*t like that. At least you didn't sleep with her-that would have been disastrous."
"She's into Rex." I announce still finding it odd that out of all the guys in UCLA, she chose the coffee boy. I personally had nothing against Rex until last night. Whatever he said to the sophomore really upset her.
"I don't see her sharing a room with Rex."
"We don't share a room." I can feel bronte's eyes boring into the side of my head as if calling bullsh*t. I glance towards her again and there's a smug look on her face like she knows something that I don't "Getting locked up in a room together hardly counts as sharing a room."
"No one forced you last night." She smirks and I groan.
"She was drunk, I was only trying to comfort her."
"With your magic penis?" She smiles at her crude joke and I roll my eyes.
"I'm done talking about this B?"
"You can lie to yourself all you want Charlie but you know something's up. I've never seen you leap so fast to save someone from drowning before. Not even yourself." She ponders on her own words for a few seconds before grinning "damn, that's deep."
"Why don't you focus on getting your girlfriend back from Shadé instead of worrying about min-me."
"You almost said mine."
"Jesus. Shut up." I defend immediately feeling my chest shift oddly at the possibility of Bronte's words.
I did almost say mine. What the f*ck is wrong with me? A girlfriend is not something I'm interested in. Not now. Not with everything else I've got going on. Basketball is the only thing I'm willing to commit to at the moment. A relationship would require time that I simply do not have. And who's talking about a relationship? The sophomore doesn't like me and I'm just confused for now. It's mere sexual attraction on both sides and nothing more.
"Ex-girlfriend." She corrects with a roll of her eyes "Speaking of ex-girlfriends, I heard yours is on the loose. She got here this morning and has been asking about you. At least she had the decency not to show face at your dad's house."
"Alexis is here?"
F*cking great. Just what I needed.
"You can't hide from her anymore Charlie." She echoes but I'm determined to do just that. "Call the sitter and speak to your niece. She's not able to go trick or treating and she misses you a lot."
"I'll do that."
"I'm serious Charlie. I'm not complaining about looking after Mila because I know you need all the help you can get but she is your responsibility and you can't keep picking and choosing when to be there for her." She pauses "I know it's hard juggling all this sh*t Charlie but it's time you start accepting Robin isn't coming back and with your mum gone, you're all that little girl has."
I drop Bronte and the drinks at Sawyer's and head over to my dad's to catch a bit of sleep before the party. I got zero sleep last night thanks to the sophomore and now all I can think about is falling asleep-right after I call Mila. Everyone's over at Sawyer's watching old basketball games and I'm thankful for the peace and quiet as I enter the house. I jog up the stairs and head straight for my room. As I walk through the beige corridor, I'm surprised to see a hunched figure on one of the Renaissance stools sitting in the corridor.
Lorraine raises her head at the sound of my approaching footsteps and a part of me ached to see her tear-stained face. She scrambles up and wipes at her face but the sniffing sounds I hear is enough to bring a frown to my face. "Hey," I whisper almost urgently as I step in front of her and cup her chin. Her puffy eyes are enough to make me want to smash someone's jaw. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing." She mumbles incoherently but the tears that slip down her cheeks and the quiver of her lips say otherwise. My grasp remains steady on her chin as I glide my thump underneath her eyes.
"You're crying."
"I'm not crying." She moves her face out of my hand, her hands wiping at her face furiously "it doesn't matter."
"It does to me," I say before I can stop myself. "If someone hurt you, I wanna know who."
"Why?" He eyes glaze over when I don't reply "I don't need you to fight for me Charlie, I can handle myself. I'm not a child."
"I never said you are." I'm getting a bit agitated "f*ck, tell me what's wrong with you."
"I don't want to." She releases a frustrated sigh and hugs herself before looking around "what are you doing here anyways? Shouldn't you be with your friends?"
My eyes stay fixated on the girl in front of me as my mind desperately tries to figure out what is wrong. But I realise she's not going to tell me if I push her so I leave it.
"I've got more important things to do."
"Like?"
"Call my niece and wish her a happy Halloween." And hide away from my ex-girlfriend who happens to be looking for me. I should have known Alexis wouldn't be able to stay away from this weekend even though she wasn't invited. What I don't understand is why the f*ck she's looking for me. "I've been a pretty sh*tty uncle lately."
"Mila..." a small smile graces her face "how is she?"
Feeling guilty for being the reason why Mila never got to meet Lorraine again, I bring up the worst idea "you could ask her yourself?" Lorraine eyes me and I can almost see her train of thoughts. I'm the same guy who told her a few hours ago to stop thinking about me. Yet here I am, asking her to speak to my niece. "She always asks for the girls in the pretty house. Plus, you'd be getting me off the hook."
For a second, it seems like she's going to say yes but fear flashes in her eyes and she shakes her head firmly "I don't think it's a good idea Charlie. I don't want any trouble." Of course she thinks anything I do would cause her trouble. I don't blame her. I've been such a douche "I have to go."
"Hey," I stop her before she can turn to leave. Her eyes are sad as she turns to me. I want to tell her not to leave but I doubt that would do any good. She's watching me expectantly and I feel myself let go of any doubt. F*ck it "I'm sorry about that interview." My eyes don't leave hers as the words leave my mouth. The apology shocks her more than me because her eyes glimmer and her lips part open. I take it as my signal to proceed "I could stand here and feed you a bullsh*t explanation but there's no f*cking excuse and -I want to propose a truce for tonight sophomore."
"What do you mean?"
"You and I, the Halloween party, just as friends."
"Charlie-" She starts to disagree but I cut her off.
"Didn't you say that I didn't defend you? Now I'm asking you to give me the chance to." Her eyebrows twitch in confusion as her eyes search mine. She's confused but so am I. I don't know what I'm doing but the thought of making it right with her matters more than I'd like to admit. I let out a relieved sigh when she slowly nods in approval and I find myself smiling a little "I'll pick you up at 9."
I'm so happy about this chapter because I have missed writing a Charlie's POV, plus there's a little bit of depth to his character here.