Page 25 of Playing for Keeps
That was one memory I would never, ever forget.
I’d been so proud to have been chosen as one of the school’s prefects and going on stage at assembly to accept the prefect badge. After the assembly, Ethan and I had been tasked by our teacher to put all the seats away in the hall. We turned it into a game, racing each other for who could stack the seats the fastest. When we’d finished there was still ten minutes to go until the bell rang, so I retrieved a rugby ball from my bag and Ethan and I started throwing it between us.
Then I stupidly kicked the ball, intending to do a small chip kick straight to Ethan’s hands. But I struck it wrong and Ethan and I watched in horror as the ball sailed into one of the side windows, shattering the glass.
I stood gaping at the broken glass as the Deputy Principal stormed into the hall. My stomach plunged as I anticipated having to hand back my prefect badge. Was there a world record for the shortest amount of time someone was a prefect?
Ethan stepped forward before I could say anything. “Sorry, sir. It was my fault.”
The Deputy Principal’s face took on a resigned look. “Lewis. My office, now.” He looked over at me. “Hunter, you go track down the caretaker so we can get that glass cleaned up.”
I’d been waiting outside when Ethan finally emerged from the Deputy Principal’s office.
“You didn’t have to do that. I can tell him the truth,” I said.
“Nah, don’t want you to lose your prefect badge.” He’d shrugged, giving me his sunshine grin. “Besides, a few more detentions aren’t going to hurt me.”
“Your kicking’s…definitely improved,” Ethan rasped now.
“I still can’t believe you did that for me,” I said quietly.
Ethan sucked in a deep breath then let it out slowly before he replied. “That’s what friend’s do.”
His words created a ball of complex feelings in my gut. Before I could untangle them, the lights flickered back on.
Ethan and I blinked at each other. He was so close I could see the faint scattering of freckles over his nose that appeared every summer.
I slowly removed my hand from his back. Then I cleared my throat. “You okay?”
Ethan ducked his head. He raked his hand through his hair, messing it up. He didn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah. Fine.”
I scrambled awkwardly to my feet. “I should…ah…go back to my cabin.”
Ethan bit his lip. For a second my eyes were drawn to his mouth, those full, pouty pink lips I’d spent so much time as a teenager obsessing over. He finally raised his gaze to mine. “Thanks,” he said.
“No worries.”
Chapter7
Ethan
When I woke up the next morning, Jacob snoring lightly in the bed below me, the events of the previous night flooded my mind like a tsunami.
Fuck. It was pathetic. I was a grown man, a father, for God’s sake, yet I was still scared of the dark.
But last night my focus hadn’t been on my embarrassment.
Because Luke had come to me.
His low, deep voice had reassured me, kept me anchored so that my mind hadn’t spiraled into a pit of fear and panic, sending me back to when I was eight and the “quality” foster carers the state had paid to look after me had locked me in a pitch-black room for twelve hours. No windows, no light.
An excellent parenting technique if you wanted to inflict lifelong trauma on a child because they’d been a bit cheeky and compared your haircut to a mop.
I could still remember how I’d panicked in that endless soul-sucking blackness, feeling as if my lungs were being crushed, as if I would die.
Ever since, the same feeling had engulfed me anytime I was plunged into darkness.
I knew I should see a head doctor about it sometime. The problem was that if I started talking, a whole lot of other shit would come up. I’d be a real smorgasbord feast for any psychologist. Traumatic foster care issues, sick mum issues. And let’s not forget my father abandonment issues.
