Page 14 of Try Hard
“Tizer,” she mused, nodding her head. “I haven’t had one of those in… well, years.”
“Yeah, same. And, now I’m reliably informed it’s a fizzy drink, I suppose I can go text my former team and let them know.”
She shook her head and started walking again. “You don’t need to do that. But, if you correctly guess which car my dad’s is, I’ll buy you a Tizer.”
I followed after her eagerly. “Ooh, we’ve got some big prizes on the line now—although, do they even still make Tizer?”
“I have no idea, but maybe we’re about to find out. I doubt it, but maybe.”
“Hello, fighting words.”
“Just trying to speak your language, athlete,” she said, shooting a challenging look over her shoulder at me.
Ophelia Pendrick.Hilarious, attentive, ridiculous Ophelia Pendrick. God, I was in so much trouble.
???
We made it back to the others an hour later without me having successfully guessed what Alistair Pendrick drove. It just hadn’t occurred to me that the man would drive a Mini. Of course, he was fun and a little unexpected—and, apparently, had given his wife free reign over his latest vehicle and she’d always had a soft spot for them.
Fia shot me one last, seemingly fond look before we rejoined the large crowd still plane spotting and she slipped back into her shell. That was when I realised how much she’d come out of it for me. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been like that with Sophieback in school. Had Soph always known a different version of her than I had? Had I missed out on years of that sarcastic, insightful version of her?
I wasn’t sure we’d spent enough time together today to merit asking to stay in touch, but I was still going to ask. That was who I was.
“Ah, there you are,” Alistair called, waving a tartan Thermos in our direction. “Soup? It’s still hot and I am blessed with a wonderful wife who makes the world’s best soups!”
It was one of my favourite things in the world to see people be so very in love with their partners, especially after a long time together. Just the way those couples couldn’t help but gush, the way they appreciated the tiniest little gestures from one another. After my parents divorced, I’d come to realise it was the small things that kept a relationship together. They’d always been good at the big things—loud, impactful celebrations that other people had to see. Ones that were designed to demonstrate they were still together and they wanted to show it off to the world. Overly long, florid posts on social media for their anniversaries, just to tell the world they had the best partner ever. Except they never said that stuff to each other in private. They were going through the motions, and it seemed, in hindsight, like they thought they could convince themselves everything was good so long as they could make the world believe it was. They didn’t make each other soup or coffee or talk about each other because they simply couldn’t help themselves. It didn’t flow naturally like it did with Alistair and Lorraine.
It seemed to be coming easier for my mum with her partner now, and I was glad of it. She’d waited long enough. Of course, it was still relatively new and I was certain she and my dad had been like that in the beginning too, but, after years of marriage, two kids, and a divorce, I could only imagine you had a better radar for love that would last. Maybe Dad would find it soon too.
Fia turned to me, holding out one of those tiny handled mugs that came with Thermoses. “It really is good. Country vegetable. Totally vegan.”
She’d seen things about me online—paid attention on purpose, maybe—did that mean she knew I was a vegetarian? Had she read the articles in sports magazines that I’d done where they asked about my diet? I hoped she had, but I knew that was foolish. She’d been busy living her life. But one could hope.
I smiled at her, reaching out for the mug. “Well, it’s no Tizer, but I guess it’ll do.”
Something flashed across her face despite her efforts to stop it, that same amusement she’d had when we were alone. She really tried so hard not to give herself away, especially around others, and I couldn’t help but wonder where that came from. Her father was a man so readily giving himself away. His warmness was there, inside of her; I’d seen it, but she kept herself so contained around other people. Still, she let me in, let me amuse her, even with a crowd. Maybe that was the biggest win of the day.
“You didn’t guess right,” she pointed out quietly. “So, no Tizer for you.”
“I could just go out and buy some on the way home.” I watched the way she narrowed her eyes as I sipped the soup. Alistair was right. Lorraine really did make an incredible soup.
“You wouldn’t,” Fia said, sounding surprisingly certain.
“Well, you’ve given me the taste…”
“But it wouldn’t taste like victory if you cheated and bought it for yourself.”
“Oh, so I can only drink Tizer if I win it now?”
“Well… no. I guess not.” She pulled herself up straighter, glancing around at the others.
I moved beside her and nudged her lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m a good loser. I can wait until I earn it. However, you do realise that means we’ll have to stay in touch, even if only to give me chances to win.”
She looked down, her lips pressing together as she smiled. “Evidence suggests you haven’t had that many chances to practice losing.”
“Good job I was born a gracious loser then, isn’t it?”
She laughed, just for me. “That sounds awful.”
