Page 1 of Full Court Crush

Chapter 1

Keira

LoudmusicintrusivelyinvadedKeira’s bedroom. Groaning, she pulled the cerulean duvet further over her head, cursing the person blasting ‘Eye of the Tiger’ this early in the morning. She sighed, realising she was cursing herself; the music was her alarm. She reached out an unwilling hand and fumbled blindly for her phone before ripping the duvet away from her face and blinking the room into focus. It was strange sleeping in her childhood bedroom after so many years. Posters of a pop group she had obsessed over as a teen still adorned the walls, even though they had disbanded years ago. The once plush fawn-coloured carpet had flattened in places, marking a triangular path between her not-quite-long-enough single bed, the door, and her rickety desk with a maths book wedged under one leg. It was a stark contrast to her old apartment in America.

Finally finding her phone, she silenced the alarm and resisted the urge to lie back down, knowing she would drift straight back off to sleep. Instead, she dragged her body upright and swung her long legs over the side of the bed. She yawned and stretched her arms high above her head, her spine and neck clicking in percussion. Her whole body felt heavy.

The house was quiet, other than noise drifting in off the city street; early commuters were making their way to work and the occasional dog barking. Keira quietly changed into a loose blue vest top and black shorts, and crept down the squeaky stairs, carefully avoiding the loudest treads with practised precision. Her running shoes sat next to her father’s dusty, neglected work boots in a bookcase-turned-shoe rack. The wallpaper in the front hall was peeling, and the laminate flooring bore scars from a lifetime of people trundling in and out.

Keira stepped from the dark hallway into the early morning sunshine, squinting into the light, and gently closing and locking the front door behind her. She stretched on the pavement, greeting her elderly neighbour as he ambled by her on their terraced street, morning newspaper held firmly in his hand. She didn’t have a route or specific distance planned; her need to leave the house and the looming start date for her new job had fuelled a need to move.

She inserted her earbuds and started a slow jog down the road, heading towards the local high-street. She ran past Prince’s bakery and café, visits to which had been a childhood Sunday morning staple for her and her father after her mother died. The aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted into the street, drawing people in, seemingly entranced. But Keira kept running. As her muscles warmed up, she picked up the pace, the rhythmic thudding duetting with the punk rock music filling her ears. Cars rumbled past. Keira’s skin became sticky with salty sweat. Turning a corner, she caught sight of what was once her favourite book shop as a child; a quaint building within which she would choose a new book with the same care she had named each of her stuffed toys. A coffee shop chain owned it now. Later in the day, it would undoubtedly be filled with teenagers enjoying the freedom of the summer holidays. For now, a handful of people within worked on their laptops. She quickly looked away and ran on.

A few buildings down was the small, family-owned Italian restaurant where she had taken her very first date. Its wooden veneer looked freshly stained a rich, deep red, with gold lettering on the signs. She recalled being so nervous she’d knocked the water jug over and forgotten to tip the waiter, having rushed back later to do so. Her lips twitched into a smile as she remembered how catastrophic it had seemed at the time.

Keira’s feet carried her to the large park by the hospital. It had been her favourite childhood playground, so much bigger and with more equipment than their local one. They would visit every time her mother had an appointment at the hospital. For those hours, her family existed in a bubble. Her mother was no longer sick. Her dad wasn’t working all the time to keep them afloat. And she was just a regular child, running around carefree. The memories were bittersweet.

Running past the football pitch, she headed towards the playground. She decided to loop around the park before she headed back home. Her body felt lighter than it had in weeks, despite the growing tiredness in her legs.

Her improvised route took her into a densely vegetated area of the park, providing some welcome shade over the tarmacked path. Some of the trees’ lower leaves were still damp from the previous night’s summer storm. The early morning sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Vegetation rustled as Keira rounded a corner, and she watched a squirrel hopping through the undergrowth. A sudden impact echoed with a thud. She stumbled, almost losing her footing, only staying upright by grabbing a low-hanging tree branch.

“Shit.”

Keira looked at the forlorn figure on the ground as she regained her balance.

“I’m so sorry!” she said in shock. Ripping out her earbuds, she looked down in horror at the crumpled woman. The other runner inspected her hands and then brushed off the grit. Her leggings were splotchy with water from the shallow puddle where she’d landed.

“At least watch where you’re going,” the other runner muttered. She wiped her hands on her leggings before looking up. Keira’s voice temporarily stopped working. Mesmerising sky-blue eyes, the kind that felt like they were looking deep into one’s soul, contrasted the runner’s dark brown hair, which was half-falling out of a messy ponytail. Her ivory skin drew Keira’s attention to her lips, which twitched in a slight smile. It was only then that Keira realised she was staring.

“Sorry,” she mustered, before offering the other woman help up. The woman grasped her offered hand and rose to her feet. The calluses on her fingertips made Keira’s skin tingle. Something about the woman seemed vaguely familiar.

“Are you okay?” the other runner asked once fully upright. When her gaze scanned Keira’s body, she suppressed a shiver.

“Me? I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Keira dismissed. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

Sky-blue eyes crinkled as the woman chuckled.

“Please don’t worry, I’m fine. You’d be surprised how many times a week I end up on my ass. This is par for the course.”

The laughter made the other woman’s face light up. Sky-blue eyes turned aquamarine as a sunbeam fell across her face. Keira wanted to ask more, to keep the enigmatic woman here, and talking, but the words got stuck in her throat.

“Well…if you’re okay, we’ve both got runs to finish.” The other runner smiled.

“Yeah…yes, of course.” Keira awkwardly smiled back before moving aside. The other runner jogged off, and it took all of Keira’s self-restraint not to watch her leave.

Keira finished her run and returned home, showered as quietly as their temperamental old boiler allowed, and went into the kitchen. She switched on the kettle, watching the blue light illuminate the small rectangular space, bouncing off the white backsplash and brown laminate. Cabinets filled one long wall, and a small white breakfast table with two matching chairs pressed up against the other. Keira dropped into one of the seats and pulled a shoebox full of tablets towards herself, her legs aching satisfyingly. The contents of the box rustled in protest as she rummaged through it, swiftly scanning the unpronounceable medications. She stifled a yawn. The yellowing fridge-freezer hummed in the background, and the kettle turned off with a click. Looking between the medication and the kettle, she decided it was probably best to get her caffeine fix before setting out her father’s medication.

She made her coffee, black and strong like always, and leant back against the counter, blowing on it softly to cool it. Her mind drifted back to her ill-fated run and the woman with the enthralling eyes. In another lifetime, she might have asked for her number.

She sighed. In another lifetime, she’d never have needed to return to Wales.

A creak from upstairs alerted her to her father getting up. She took another sip of the scalding coffee, then retrieved a second mug from the cupboard, placed it next to her own, then added a tea bag and hot water. The spicy aroma of ginger combined with the earthy scent of coffee as she returned to her seat and grabbed the first box of medications. She checked the label, then popped one pill into each ‘morning’ slot on the pill caddy. Slowly, she filled the caddy with pills of different colours, shapes, and sizes. If she squinted, they almost looked like sweets.

Her father’s footfalls crossed the landing now, then the bathroom door closed. She grabbed her coffee and stood, taking two steps over to the fridge and peering inside. There wasn’t much there; some ham, questionable cheese, a carton of eggs, and a bag of spinach she’d scrounged from the reduced section, and some milk that would need to pass the sniff test before being used. Half a sandwich, covered messily with cling-film, sat sadly on a plate; the remains of her dad’s lunch from the day before.

With a sigh, she gathered the ingredients for an omelette. The scent of sizzling spinach, ham, and eggs infused the kitchen as the sun crept around the side of the house.

“Something smells good.” Her dad shuffled into the kitchen and sat down at the table.