Page 117 of Game Point
‘I’m not serious?’ she said, twisting my words. ‘What exactly is your problem?’
‘I don’t have a problem with you. I don’t want you to get in anyone’s way,’ I said, lowering my tone as somebody passed us. In the corner of my eye, Jasmine Carter moved past us and my heart stopped in my chest, wondering if she’d overheard our conversation.
Avery stopped too, her eyes tracking the player out of the room. Her attention turned back to me, her arm pulling out of my grip. ‘Well look, now I’ve missed her.’
I shook my head. ‘She has a big match, it’s for the best.’
She tsked. ‘You know, sometimes I wonder how things would be different if I was the one that had turned pro.’
‘What?’ I said in shock, trying to figure out where all of this had come from. All I’d done was stop her from going to disrupt another player.
‘You’re an embarrassment, Dylan. Honestly,’ she struck out, trying to hurt me. But she missed, her anger incorrectly aimed. Normally, she could make me feel like shit,remind me of everything she’d missed out on, tell me I was doing it for the both of us. But now? She had to see this wasn’t my fault.
‘What the hell is your problem?’ I asked, my teeth gritted. I could feel the eyes in the room focusing on us, this argument all too public.
‘My problem?’ she spat. ‘I’ve had to sit here, see you living out my dream, and I’m forced to watch you waste it.’
My jaw locked at her words, at her thinly veiled insult. I tried to remain strong, trying to find the spark of anger that would normally rage against this kind of behaviour. But instead, I found a fault ignition, doused by the fact this was my oldest friend saying these things.
I inhaled deeply. ‘You don’t know anything about what it is like to play at this level, Avery. The pressure out on that court, even back here. It’s crushing.’ I wiped a hand at my brow; it was still sweaty from the match. I wanted to shower, to cool down and relax, not get into a big fight. I needed Oliver.
‘Why did you even take me back here? Did you want to show off? Rub it in my face?’ Avery said, raising her voice again. More eyes directed on us, a burning gaze of intrigue and annoyance at our argument.
‘You asked to come here!’ I hissed, keeping my voice quiet, running out of patience. She was trying to make herself the victim, and I was too tired to pretend like I didn’t care. Then, I remembered Mum’s words, when we visited them, her version of Avery’s crash.
‘She recovered, didn’t she? Fully, from what I remember. Next time you talk to her, ask her.’
My own eyes narrowed in on Avery, pushing back ather as I cracked and asked, ‘What even happened? With your injury?’
There was a flash of dread across her face, her mouth opening in shock.
‘W-what do you mean?’ she stuttered, searching for words. ‘I was in that crash.’
‘What happened after?’ I pressed. Years had passed and I felt like I didn’t know the full story. She’d spent years throwing it in my face, telling me I was the lucky one, listening to her pull me apart even when I was already at my lowest. And now with my mum’s words ringing in my head, with Avery’s own jabs still stinging, I dug.
‘Don’t turn this on me,’ she said, her defences going straight up. ‘You think you have itsotough. With your sponsors and your first-class travel, your fancy matches and hotels. But you never ask about me. How I’m doing. You don’t care about me.’
‘Of course I do,’ I snapped back. ‘You’re trying to change the subject, but I care about you, Avery, I do.’
‘You don’t act like it,’ she said with a gasp, flicking her hair over her shoulder before defensively crossing her arms over her chest.
‘I’m sorry I’m distant, Avery. I really am. It’s hard sometimes, to want to call back home, and you are the one to make that effort,’ I said, trying to meet her halfway. But there was something there, and maybe it was just a half truth, but she didn’t get to keep talking to me like shit and then throw her injury in my face. With a deep breath, I went back to my original question. ‘After the car crash, after your injury. What happ—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Dylan,’ she cut me off, eyes narrowed.‘Of course I didn’t quit because of the fucking injury. It wasyou.’
I barely blinked as I tried to comprehend her words. ‘Me?’
‘Don’t pretend like you don’t know how much I struggled when you left. You abandoned me.’
I shook my head. She was trying to hurt me, turning it back on me. But I was too desperate for the truth now.
I kept my voice level. ‘I kept in contact. I talked about you constantly to Imogen, trying to get her to give you a shot. Then, when we came back, you weren’t playing anymore. You said rehab had stopped, you couldn’t play. Was that even true? Did rehab fail … or did you quit?’
‘Do you know what it’s like to be the one that everyone forgets about? I had to watch you get picked over me, every single time. We were a team. We trained together, played together, travelled together. And at the first opportunity, you cut and run. You should’ve stayed, helped me get better. If you had, God knows, maybe I could be the one playing alongside Scottie and Jasmine. But no, instead I have to watchyou.’ She tried once more to make me feel sorry for her. But I was already done. I’d held onto her friendship for too long, telling myself I needed her, this link to home. But all along she’d been pulling me down with her, constantly drowning me in her negativity.
‘I had a career, Avery. I did not cut and run.’
‘Besides, you aren’t better than me,’ she sneered, her eyes narrowing, her voice low. ‘I mean, fucking your coach. Really Dylan? What will people say?’
