Fragments (Running On Empty Book 1) Read online

  “Let’s fucking do this!” I pointed to the air, keen to get over to Coach.

  Jogging over to the others, I started swinging my arms across my chest, eager to get warmed up. I missed a few marks in our last game and Coach had drilled me for it. I didn’t want to let him down. He was a father-like figure to me, and I respected him. Jogging on the spot next to Robbie, I was determined to keep my mind clear. Today, I wanted to sweat it out. Bea ignoring me had thrown me off my game and I didn’t like it.

  We were the Mallees and our maroon Guernseys had a thick white V running down the front of them. We had also managed to pick up some local sponsorship, after winning the premiership three years running. It was epic being the town’s favourite.

  “Let’s get this bitch on, ladies! Hey, Coach!” I shouted, nodding over to him. The boys near me jumped from foot to foot in their spot jogging; eager to burst out into a proper run. I wasn’t the only one in the mood for blowing off steam.

  “Okay, fellas,” Coach started, “you know the drill. Let’s start stretching.” We stopped jogging as he proceeded to get us to work our stretches. No one said a word. It was our quiet time. After a few neck stretches, we then worked on our legs.

  As I bent over to touch my toes, our silence was broken when I heard an almighty howl.

  “Check out my baby’s arse! He has the best arse, EVER!”

  Oh, shit. Don’t tell me. Bending forward, I turned my head in the direction of the voice. Standing by the fence-line was Stacey and her two friends. Fuck.

  “She belong to you?” I looked back. Coach was staring at me. “Because if she does, I’d appreciate it if she remained quiet during our sessions. We don’t need distractions with the premiership coming up.” I externally cringed and sighed.

  “Yeah, sorry, Coach. That’s my girlfriend, Stacey. I don’t remember telling her that I was here. You want me to go over there?” I looked around the group and saw the boys grinning at me and wiggling their arses. Fuckers. I was going to get into trouble for head tackling today. Arse to grass. Ty was wiggling his arse most of all. Looked like his nuts needed another flick.

  “Yeah, laugh about it, Ty.” Lowering my voice to avoid the wrath of Coach, I said, “Shame your balls finally dropped as I’m about to kick them up your arse, choirboy.”

  We finished stretching and I hoped we wouldn’t hear any more from her, but anytime I bent over or stretched my arms up, we heard catcalls. Her claiming me in front of my brothers was a joke.

  Coach tipped up the ball bag and we paired up to handball them to each other. Normally, I was with Robbie, but he’d decided to pair him up with Liam. Jace and I were paired, and I was happy with that as he could handball straight. While we were tossing the ball back and forth, Stacey quieted down. Finally. Just as I was focusing on drilling the ball, Jace’s voice piped up.

  “Hey man, I hate to say this, but you do know your girl has banged a few of the guys on our team, right?”

  I continued to pass the ball back, saying,

  “We don’t talk about each other’s pasts, mate. You know I’m no saint.”

  We kept handballing the ball, but I started thinking back to his comment. It didn’t surprise me. After all, she did screw me pretty quickly. She was eager to please, and at the time, I guess that distracted me. Flicking the ball back and forth, my eyes travelled to my teammates. Wondering who she’d banged on the team, was not good. Sure, we had a few chicks in common, but the way Jace said it, now made it sound dirty.

  “Okay, boys, time for the shuffle trials. You need to pick up speed from Tuesday.” We continued shuffling, but my session was constantly interrupted by Stacey’s inane shouts outs of, “Go baby! Go!” and her whistles. Her distractions proved too much when I momentarily lost concentration and half tripped in my step, losing my momentum. The beep sounded, and I narrowly missed the target. For fuck’s sake! Stomping the ground, I was pissed that I wasn’t in sync with Robbie, like I normally was.

  “Hey mate, tough break out there.” Robbie approached me, offering me a water bottle.

  I grabbed it and nodded in thanks. “Yeah, can’t believe I missed that. It was so close. She distracted me. Coach is going to kick my arse.”

  Robbie laughed and patted me on the back. “Oh, but what a fine arse it is, according to Stacey.” He winked. “She is a wild cat, bro. You sure she’s not a bit crazy too?” Oh she was crazy, all right. Why in the hell am I with her again?

  “Yeah, she’s loud, too,” I snapped. “I didn’t tell her I was here; does she have a GPS on my arse or something?” We both laughed, and headed back to the group. By now the trials had finished.

  “Reynolds!” Coach bellowed. Oh shit. I knew what was coming. “Seeing as you lost focus out there, how's about you gain some by giving me ten laps of the oval to remember what you’re here for? That should give you enough thinking time.” My teammates roared with laughter while high fiving each other.

  “The rest of you boys split up; let’s have a scratch match. Losers have to run five laps. Let’s go!”

  I jogged to the perimeter of the oval and began my hard slog. As I got closer to where Stacey was, her eyes lit up as she started laughing. So much for pitying my laps.

  “Oh poor baby! You got in trouble! That’s hilarious!” She giggled alongside her friends. Her phone was in her hand, and she texted someone.

  “I’ll see you after you’re done, baby, and make you feel better.” Fuck that. No matter what distraction she gave me, I was not spending time with her now. The boys were already going to rip into me about this for weeks. Dammit.

  After training, we headed to the gym to shower and get organised for next week. Coach gave us a quick pep talk about the team we were facing in a week’s time, while reminding us to wash our Guernseys. I showered quickly, eager to get out of here. The boys gave me flat-out shit about my arse while we showered, and I wanted to go before I pushed someone’s face into a wall. Once I dressed, I saluted the boys with my middle finger and headed out.

  I didn’t make it far out of the door before Coach called out to me. I hung my head, ready for his lecture. Before he started, I couldn’t help but mutter, “I’m so sorry, Coach. I really didn’t know she would be here. She’s a pain in the arse. It won’t happen again.” I adjusted my duffle bag on my right shoulder and looked up at him.

  He sighed heavily. “Reynolds, I’m not here to lecture you. I just wanted to see if everything was all right. Your overexcitement made you look ready to start a war out there today. You okay?”

  I looked up, shocked that he had noticed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine—just a few personal issues. I was just eager to burn off some steam. But I’ll be sorting them out soon. Next week, you won’t even notice at the match. So, it’ll be fine. Um, thanks for asking.”

  He patted my shoulder and headed towards his car.

  Stacey was fast approaching me as I headed in the direction of the late bus.

  “Baby, I missed you!” she squealed, jumping into my arms. I held her hips for a moment before pushing her down and away from me.

  “Not now, Stace. I’m not in the mood,” I barked, stomping away.

  “Oh baby, I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. I was just, like, so excited to see you out there. You looked so hot!” She giggled. That giggle! How had I not noticed it before? I kept walking to the bus stop, but she followed me.

  “Why are you even here? I didn’t ask you to come. It’s just for the boys and me.”

  She laughed and smacked my shoulder, saying, “I wanted to see you, dummy. I didn’t realise you had some dumb bromance thing happening.” She gripped my forearm, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Aren’t you glad to see me?” She frowned. “I thought you‘d be happy that I made the effort to care about your interests.”

  I sighed and look at her. Her forehead wrinkled as she stared back at me.

  “Look,” I said gently, rubbing her face. “It was nice of you, but sometimes I just need me time. It’s
nothing against you; it’s just me. I have things I need to do by myself.” She stiffened at my touch and glared at me.

  “What do you mean, you need ‘me time’?” she said, using her fingers to emphasise her words. “I thought we were building something. We should be hanging out more often.”

  Her eyes squinted as she glared at me.

  “Oh, my God! You’re talking about spending time with that bitch Trice, aren’t you?” she screeched.

  I stood back, frowning at her. Where in the hell did that come from?

  “Trice is my friend, Stacey, but that’s not what I mean. Football training is my time. But now that you reminded me, I’m catching up with Trice on Sunday. I need to talk to her about something, so I won’t be around until after footy, because I’ll be seeing her just before.”

  Stacey huffed at me, unimpressed.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to hang out with another girl! I wouldn’t do that to you!” She crossed her arms, her voice getting louder. I shushed her and tried to touch her face again, but she turned away.

  “Stace, babe, it’s nothing. She’s just a friend. I promise you. I’m seeing you Saturday night, remember?” In an instant, her eyes changed from irate to calm. She nodded and then leant up to kiss me.

  “I’ll see you later. I have to go before I miss my bus.”

  When I got home, the ease I felt from training began to curl into a ball of tension. Walking up to the front door, I heard the telltale signs of another greyhound-gone-wrong night, with the sounds of my mother screaming, and ferocious shouts from my father. I am just so tired of this shit.

  As I entered the house, my father let go of my mother and pushed her back. His nostrils flared as he stomped towards me. Growing up with this, I have learnt the signs. Tonight, his consumption had been heavier, so I knew his balance was off. I stood still and braced myself for an attack, and he didn’t disappoint.

  “What’s wrong with spending time with your mother and me? What about your study? Who’s keeping you away and spending time with your ugly, worthless arse?” The countdown until he would go to the local had begun, so of course he had started on the booze early.

  “Oh, maybe …” He put his hand on his chin. “… it’s that little slut neighbour you hang out with. The one who prances around?”

  Up until this point, the alcohol normally didn’t make me care too much as he spun bullshit. But the foul way he referred again to Bea? No fucking way. I grabbed his shirt and drew him close to my face.

  “Look, you piece of old, drunken shit, say what the fuck you like about me, I don’t care. But, if you ever, ever talk about Bea like that, I will end you. I will bury you. And not in a nice place like Pop. I will bury you in the depths of hell, where you deserve to rot.” I threw him back and headed to my room, shouting over the top of my shoulder, “Piss off to the dogs. No doubt you’ll be forgiven by Mum by the time you get home.”

  I walked into my bedroom and slammed the door.

  Chapter Six

  “My soul is in suspense much more with fear

  Of the torments which are in the circle below,

  For even now the load there weighs upon me”

  Purgatorio XIII; lines 136–139

  Trice

  One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Over and over, the movements to my solo performance ran through my head. I felt like a marionette puppet, being pulled and pushed in every direction to the beat of the song. It was only a couple of days out and I couldn’t wait.

  I was robotic around my friends as the stress I felt twirled around me. If I wasn’t at the dance hall bugging my mentor after school, then I was pushing all our storage boxes to the side of the gym equipment in the garage and dancing in there. At recess and lunch, our school dance teacher let me use the theatre so I could practice. And practice I did.

  This was the one time I wouldn’t allow my family to watch my dance. I didn’t want to see their eyes as I tore through this song. I was doing something different this time around.

  The gala was to take place over several hours on both Saturday and Sunday. I was lucky to be part of the first few performances on Saturday—it meant the scout would be watching with fresh eyes. The only downside was that we performed to an audience of friends and family as well. I had decided to tell my parents that I had a simple performance while using the excuse that it was just a practice run for the real thing. I hated lying to them, but I didn’t want the added pressure.

  By Friday, I was twitchy and irritable. I had put on concealer to hide the black marks under my weary eyes. I knew that once I was on stage that it would come naturally. I just hoped I could convey what my character was feeling. I had my costume sorted and Trin was an excellent advisor—she’d seen my dance and loved how I was stepping away from the norm. I just hoped the risk was worth it.

  We both had science practicum for the final double period of the day, and my palms sweated thinking about going. My tense shoulders were one thing, but the grip I held onto my books with was sure to break them. This was the subject we shared with Stacey and her Mole Patrol. We didn’t sit near each other during class, but they often ended up near us during practicals.

  Heading into class with Trin, we spotted Hazel by our table. She had been glued to her phone this week.

  “Hey, hon,” I greeted her as we approached. She looked up from her phone with a startled expression on her face and quickly put her phone away. Interesting. We took our seats and waited for our teacher, Mr Niles, to tell us what we were doing today. He was one of our least favourite teachers; he taught science and physical education and was a complete knob. He had a creepy vibe that I hated. A girl just didn’t feel comfortable being near him by herself. Plus, he had no balls. Even though he had seen me being bullied numerous times, the arsehole had never done a thing.

  Today, we were doing a heart dissection. The specimens were divided into tubs for us, while also having the scalpels, forceps, probe, and a funny looking plastic tube near them. Putting on our lab coats, we took the tubs to our workbench and began the experiment.

  While we poked and prodded and wrote the findings down, we chatted aimlessly about all sorts of things. It was nice to relax a little and give my mind a rest. Trin was telling us about Theo’s latest amazing art project. Every time she spoke about his achievements, her face lit up. Today, though, she wasn’t her usual perky self. I moved closer to her and whispered, “You all right, chick?”

  She stopped slicing up the heart and looked around, then muttered so only we could hear, “I think Theo has a girlfriend. I never see him much anymore.” Her lips pressed tightly together as she stared sadly at her the dissection.

  I frowned and questioned her further. “What makes you think that? You spend every weekend together hanging out.”

  She shrugged and continued to cut into the heart. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it, but I nudged her arm anyway.

  She huffed, but continued. “Okay! So, there’s this girl in our class, Claire, and she has been lingering around him recently, and he isn’t shy around her. In fact, he lets her look at his portfolio and then they end up talking about neo art shit for ages.”

  “Trin, even if that girl was interested, does it matter? Do you have feelings?” I whispered the last part, not wanting anyone else to hear. She blinked hard and clenched the scalpel tightly.

  “I don’t know, Trice,” she stumbled. “Sometimes I think we’re just mates, and then this shit happens and I get confused.”

  I wanted to put my arm around her, but there was no way that I was putting my bloody gloves there. Hazel piped up softly, “I think you should ask him about her. Feel out the situation and go from there.”

  Our Hazel was always the voice of reason. Trin was the voice of balls, and I, well, I just lent a shoulder if needed.

  Our class continued, and the pungent smell of blood no longer lingered under our noses. The scalpel cut smoothly into the tissue
as we calmly measured and documented the chambers. It felt like we were CSI investigators or something.

  “BANG!”

  We turned our heads to the other side of the room. One of the groups, while blowing up their lungs, had used the scalpel to pop it, smattering blood all over their faces and the bench. Disgusting, but hilarious!

  Mr Niles was not impressed, and while he marched over to deal with it, we continued to laugh our arses off. Our activity was done, so we put all of our instruments and the dissections in the tub and I took it up to the front desk. Shortly afterwards, I was in the back room after Trice and Hazel left the taps, washing away the gunk and disposing of the gloves, and I turned from the sink to dry my hands. Just as I went to grab a paper towel, my left arm was grabbed and I was pulled away sharply.

  Stacey and her two friends, Kristen and Brit, were standing in front of me, while Stacey gripped my arm. She pulled me to the side of the door where the class couldn’t see me.

  “Listen here, bitch,” she hissed in my face. “Stay the fuck away from my boyfriend!”

  I tried to pry my arm out of her grasp, but her hold was too strong. “What are you talking about? He’s just my neighbour.”

  She sneered at me, as Kristen slapped me hard against my right cheek.

  “You’re a fuckin’ liar. We know you want him.”

  I held my other hand to my cheek as tears stung my eyes.

  “No, I don’t. He’s just my fucking neighbour. What is your problem?” I screeched. Looking directly at Stacey I thought, stuff it, why not?

  “Why? You feeling insecure, Stacey? Well, don’t. I wouldn’t go there anyway, even if he was interested—especially after he’s been with you.”

  Kristen grabbed onto my other arm, her hold tightening, as I tried to wrestle both away from them. She looked across to Brit and said, “Keep an eye out.”

  My eyes widened and my pulse quickened as I stared at the both of them holding me back. My heart raced, not knowing what they were going to do. They dragged me across to the wall and Stacey got in my face.