Page 14 of Playing Rucking Hard

When she follows me back to the bathroom so I can collect the population of wet towels, she opens and slams bedroom doors.

“You really want to do this?” I turn off the audio and spin around to face her. At least I’ve heard enough to finish the assignment tonight. “Really? You want to argue with me?”

She opens and slams the door, glaring at me as if I’ve done her wrong.

“This should be fun,” I taunt. “Remember all those times you used to scream over the top of me … loud enough to get mum and dad’s attention?”

She still glares, but her bottom lip trembles. It should be enough to stop, backtrack, and remember that we are the only family we’ve got left. But I don’t. Sue me. I’m not perfect. I’m tired and grieving and … I think Dylan left me a note that needs a response.

“I can’t do this right now,” I say, waving my arms in surrender. “The dryer will be finished in two hours. The towels need to go in the washing machine. If you put them through now, they’ll be ready to go in the dryer when your clothes come out. Remember to change the filter, and … just … I can’t do this on my own.” For the first time in forever, I allow Sage to see my tears ... that I don’t have all the answers. “I need you. I need you to do this with me.”

Her eyes soften, look away, and then her face tilts in a plea. My sister doesn’t need words to speak to me. Her face is an open book, if I’m willing to take the time and read it.

“I love you,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. She wraps her arms so tightly that I feel like a bitch for yelling at her. “I love you and we’ll get through this, okay?”

She’s the first to kiss my cheek. I’m the first to pull away. I leave for cheer training with three perfect black origami dragons and a gold gel pen. Now, if only I knew what to write.

Life is too short for bad coffee, poorly steeped tea, or regrets. What’s the last thing you regret?

I’ll leave the dragon in my locker. If he could sneak into the locker room to leave me the swan, then he can damn well go back and get my reply. But what name should I sign off as? I get why he used a number. I still don’t know what it means, but what it does mean is that if anyone else found it, they wouldn’t be able to accuse me of fraternization with a player.

The number is anonymous.

I need something equally as cryptic, and anonymous.

Thinking back to the night we met, what did we talk about? Can our conversation give a clue? We talked about music and movies, travel, and the joy of doing nothing on a weekend while hiding away from the world. I love to garden—even though I can kill plastic pot plants without trying.

We talked about Greek mythology. Dylan loved the way a company claimed the Greek word for victory as more than their brand—turning it into a verb. We talked about how language can adapt and integrate into normal speech and how we don’t even think about the background or context.

It hits me. Greek mythology ?? secrets ?? relationships ?? emotions. The logical choice is Aphrodite, but I’ve never been keen on the obvious. No. Nyx has always been associated with secrets, goddess of the night, she sees all, including hidden emotions.

Life is too short for bad coffee, poorly steeped tea, or regrets. What’s the last thing you regret? Nyx

I leave the dragon on the top shelf of my locker. If he walks past, he’ll see it.

I regret the opportunities not taken. There’s no point in regretting things I’ve done. You? #13275

His reply is the wrong question to receive after another night of nightmares. If I’m honest, I regret chasing the scholarship to the States. Life is filled with sliding door moments, and what if Ihad stayed? Would my family have been in the car at that time? It would only have taken someone wanting a bathroom break, or delaying the trip by a minute, and the accident wouldn’t have happened.

Is it my fault my sister is trapped inside her head?

Three days pass, and I don’t leave another dragon until after the Mavericks’ next game.

It’s easier to look back and wonder what if, than look forward and see the what could be. Nyx

Dylan’s response appears within hours.

There’s six seconds on the clock. Hail Mary pass? Go for field goal? Or trust yourself? #13275

Using the last dragon before I need to make another stash, I give him a glimpse into me, using a sheet of paper and folding it inside the dragon.

Depends on the score, whether the opposition is set or disrupted, where I am on the field and whether my team trust me to be a hero or to be a team player. What I will do is make each one of those six seconds count because I’ll never get them back again. Nyx

For the next week, we exchange origami in my locker until the other cheerleaders stop asking why I have them on display. Sports people are generally superstitious and all I need to say is “for good luck,” and no one bothers to dig deeper.

The morning of the next home game, two swans appear—one pink and one black. I read the pink one first.

If I could meet anyone in your life and immediately know everything I need to know about you, who would it be? #13275

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