Page 110 of Unwritten Rules
“I’m fine.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I refuse to admit that my best friend is right. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
Sensing he’s fighting a losing battle—something he has been trying to fight me on all week—he sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of the puffer jacket. “You don’t want to talk about your feelings, that’s fine. But at least tell me everything is okay with Mia. You haven’t told me much about why she’s been in Sydney since Monday.”
“It’s a long story,” I murmur, bending at the waist to snatch my water bottle and towel off the ground where I left them an hour ago. “She’s got her own shit to deal with. All I can do is be there for her when she needs me.”
To say I was shocked to see Mia standing in the hallway outside my apartment is an understatement. I knew she hadplans to interview for a job in Sydney, but I had lost track of my days and all of a sudden, she was here. She’s staying with our parents, which is something I’m glad she’s doing. Mending her relationship with Mum is something that needed to happen sooner or later, so I’m glad Mia feels comfortable enough to take that next step.
When she told me about the drama with her neighbour Noah, all I could think was:we’re both fucking messes.
I’ve missed my sister since she moved to Barrenridge, so it’s been nice to have her back in Sydney. She has helped distract me from my churning thoughts when I’m not training, but when I’m alone in my bedroom… that’s when the chaos really begins.
“Do we need to drive to Barrenridge and knock some sense into the guy who hurt her?”
I shake my head and take a long drink from the water bottle. Once satisfied, I drop the bottle to my side and exhale a sharp breath. “I’ve got it under control, but if I need to hide a body, I know where to find you.”
“Good man.” Khai claps me on the back and guides me down the tunnel. “Let’s get you showered and dressed. Don’t you have a family dinner to go to?”
“I told Mum I couldn’t go because of training.” It’s a half-truth that I’m not willing to budge on. “Besides, things are still… rocky with me and my dad.”
We step into the empty change room, the rest of the team having left while I was out running laps on the field. I walk to where my gym bag sits on the bench in front of my locker, rummaging around for my phone. Disappointment deflates my chest when I don’t see a text from Tatum. The same as every other day this past week.
“You’ll have to talk to him eventually,” Khai points out, sitting on the bench beside my bag. “You can’t ignore him forever.”
“I can try,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. Tossing my phone into my bag, I reach for the towel hanging on the hook in the alcove space. “I’ve said my peace with him, which is something I never thought I’d do. But with everything going on with Tatum… I don’t have the energy to continue carrying the weight of his expectations.”
Khai nods. “I hear you. And look, if it’s easier to push it to the back of your mind for now, then do it. But don’t forget about it and hope it’ll go away with time, okay?”
My jaw ticks as I nod. I hate that he’s right—once again. As much as I would love to sweep this under the rug, never to be seen again, I know I can’t. Not when my dad is a huge part of my life—both personally and professionally. As a commentator and punter, Dad is deep in the sport, just as I am. It would be impossible to ignore him for the rest of eternity.
If Mia can make amends with Mum, I can do the same with Dad.
Facing the music is just not something I’m ready to do yet.
Khai stands and claps me on the shoulder, a smile touching his lips. “Go shower and I’ll see you at home. I’m ordering pizza, and there are beers in the fridge ready to go. You could use the pick me up.”
I would normally tell him that we need to watch what we consume so we don’t mess with our diets, but I could fucking care less about that right now.
“Pizza and beer sounds perfect,” I tell him, returning his smile.
“That’s the spirit!” He steps toward the door to the room, grinning. “See you at home.”
When he leaves, I head to the showers and stay under the hot water for far too long. By the time I step out, my fingers are wrinkly and I’m starving. All of that running has worked up an appetite, something I’m eager to sate with pizza and beer.
My eyes land on a head of brown and blonde ombre hair, hazel eyes following my movement as I saunter into the changing room. She’s dressed in a hoodie and black jeans, matching her reserved personality. Kind of like a black cat.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, voice tight. My hand reaches for the towel wrapped around my waist. Water slides down my bare chest; I couldn’t be bothered properly drying off when I got out.
Raya stands from the empty bench space beside my bag and waves me off with her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hit on you or anything. You’re not my type.”
I raise a brow at her. “Not your type?”
“Not even close,” she says without hesitation, eyes staying locked on my face.
“Okay, fine,” I relent, walking past her to my gym bag. Retrieving my clothes, I raise a brow at her, silently asking her to turn around. Raya rolls her eyes and spins, facing away from me. “Why are you here then?”
I drop my towel and begin dressing, sliding my legs into the holes of my black jeans.
Raya rocks on the heel of her shoes, hands clasped behind her back. “I overheard something today at practice that I need to tell you about.”
