Page 47 of Oar Than Friends

She tried so hard to stop the snort of laughter, only didn’t get there quick enough and ended up in a coughing fit which had her doubled over gasping for air. I opened one of the bottles of water I’d brought and passed it to her.

‘See, the Yankee Doodle I met is trying to get out.’ Ismirked, though was careful not to let her see it just in case she started snarling again. I probably shouldn’t admit that it kind of turned me on; it would only make things worse.

She took several gulps before replacing the lid and setting it to one side by the bucket I’d also brought along for us.

‘You’re going to talk all day unless I stop you, aren’t you?’

‘Probably.’

She rolled her eyes, shook out her black bag, reached for a rusty can with her mechanical grip, and dropped it in. ‘Oz, why did you want to be in a pair with me?’

‘I told you, I wanted to talk to you. And you won’t reply to my messages.’ I bent down and picked up an old plastic bottle, throwing it into my own bag.

‘Why though? We’re on opposite sides of two teams who want to do nothing but beat each other. It was literally the first thing I was told when I had my orientation:“do not fraternize with the enemy”,’ she mimicked. ‘Get good grades and beat Oxford. I’m not even sure which they put more importance on.’

‘Oh, it’s definitely to beat Oxford,’ I chuckled.

‘Then why all this? Nothing good can come of it. We both have a ton of work …’ she peered over at me with a wry smile, ‘well I do, and it’s a distraction we don’t need.’

I put my black bag down and turned to her. ‘Because we’re more than our coursework and a boat race, and because six weeks ago I met a girl I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.’

I tried to hold her eyes, tried to show her how serious Iwas, but she turned and picked up a pink sweet wrapper in silence. I watched a tugboat pass us while I waited for her to say something, until it became clear she wasn’t going to.

‘A question for a question?’

‘I don’t have any questions. And it looks like I’m the only one working here,’ she added, tying off her full bag and pulling a new one from the roll.

‘Okay. Then I have some.’

She let out a deep sigh. ‘What?’

I moved around her and picked up a discarded shopping bag, stuffing it into the bag, ‘Why haven’t you replied to my text messages?’

‘Told you. There’s no point.’

‘That’s the only reason?’

‘Yes, what else would there be?’ she replied, but from the way she turned her body so she didn’t have to look at me it was clear there was more. We both knew there was more, and it didn’t have anything to do with my presidency or coursework and everything to do with the unwarranted reputation I’d steadfastly denied, especially when she changed the subject. ‘The water is really low here, huh?’

‘Yes, it feels lower today than usual.’ I pointed over to the wall where the tell-tale sign of green moss illustrated the depths the tide usually hit.

‘Oh.’ She carried on in silence, then … ‘What’s it like to row on?’

‘You mean compete in the Boat Race?’

She nodded, ‘Yes.’

I never told her I’d competed in the Boat Race before, and hid my smile at the thought of her talking about memore than just in regards to my father, or whatever tabloid trash had been spreading lies this week; that perhaps she’d been researching my achievements just like I’d been doing for her. And hopefully she’d seen something to persuade her that I was more than tabloid column inches, because while her argument about the Oxford and Cambridge rivalry was valid, I was certain my unwarranted playboy reputation was what was really keeping her away.

‘The Boat Race is the most intense twenty minutes you’ll ever experience. More than the Olympics, more than the World Championships …’ I dropped my head as I nearly added ‘more than sex’; I knew full well that was a one-way ticket to receiving the silent treatment, ‘it’s like nothing else. Two hundred and fifty thousand people lined along the four miles of river on both sides, half screaming for you to win, the other half screaming for you to lose, while millions more watch you on the television. I hope you’re ready for it.’

‘Me?’ she blinked up, each blink turning the bright green greener. It almost rivalled the fresh moss clinging to the huge pebbles underneath our feet.

‘Yeah, you’ll be coxing for Blondie.’

‘Oh … oh, no,’ she spluttered as the realization hit her that she’d be here in little under six months. ‘No. That’s not been decided. I’m training with the crew, and I’ve won a couple of races but I’m not the only cox they’re considering. And I have no experience of rowing on a tideway, so I’m sure I’ll be back-up cox for Blondie at best. I doubt I’ll be picked, especially as this is my first year. But I’m enjoying the challenge.’

‘You’ve never coxed on tidal water?’

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