Page 21 of Blindsided By You

“Life in Cluanie must be pretty tame by comparison. Not bored with it already?” she asks.

“No, there’s enough to hold my interest.” I catch Jenna’s eye, and she seems to read the underlying message in my words. I see no sign of it disturbing her.

“How about you?” I ask. “Any stories to tell? I know a little of it, given your dad’s name was in the papers every other week. And yours sometimes.”

She winces. Clearly feeding the media is one thing, but being in it is another. Probably best I don’t reveal my week of internet stalking Jenna MacDonald. What started as an innocent Google search the morning after the party—coffee and painkillers in hand—has become a daily habit. I catch myself doing it on tea breaks. On the couch next to Mum and Dad in the evenings. It’s moved past idle curiosity.

Jenna offers me a similarly condensed version of her life beyond Cluanie, leaving out of course, her near-marriage to that tosser, whose name I’ve found out is Adam. She gives me the lowdown on a couple of scandals—what really went on behind the scenes. The stuff people like her prevent from making it to the public.

“There’s not much call for sports PR in Cluanie,” she finishes, “but I can do that sort of work anywhere when it’s not tied to a team.”

“It’s going well?”

“Yeah, not bad. Better than I expected.”

Too modest by far. I heard her father talking to Grant Darby the other night. Two more high-profile rugby players signed with Jenna this week. While I hope her success only grows, I also hope that it doesn’t push her so high she’s completely out of my reach.

“I thought I’d see if I could get one or two clients of my own, while I’ve got this time away from the Highlanders, and now I’ve got eight.”

I only hear two words: ‘time away’ and my heart sinks. I thought Jenna had left the Highlanders for good, but ‘time away’ suggests she’s going back to the team. To Glasgow. Leaving Cluanie. There’s a sick, hollow feeling in my stomach. I’m sure I heard her correctly, but still I make myself check.

“Time away from the Highlanders?”

“Yeah,” she says. “They gave me a year’s leave. I’m meant to rejoin them in November. Not sure if I will, though. If my own business takes off, I might turn down the offer.”

I already wanted Jenna’s business to do well for her sake. Now I’m praying it does for mine.

My phone lights up, and I glance down at it. A text from my sister.

Rachel:What the fuck, Geordie?

My sister’s in an extra grumpy mood this morning. What the hell have I done now?

Me:Good morning to you too, dear sister

Rachel:I saw the picture

Me:And your point is?

Rachel:I saw your face

Me:You have a problem with my face? You don’t like my morning face? Have I developed resting bitch face overnight?

I can’t resist winding her up some more. I wait for the explosion.

Rachel:I SAW THE WAY YOU WERE LOOKING AT HER

Me:?????

Rachel:Please tell me you’re not hitting on my friend Geordie MacDonald.

My full name. Now she’s really pissed.

Me:What if she hits on me?

Rachel:In your dreams. She’s not that stupid.

Me:Harsh

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