Page 76 of Full Court Crush

"Doofus? Really?"

"Don't avoid the question."

Keira huffed.

“I think…I think I could love her, if she’d let me,” Keira admitted quietly. “But she’s made it very clear that’s not an option, so…” She shrugged, trying to downplay the sharp pain in her chest as the reality of what had happened washed over her. Amelia wasn’t just some fling. It was never just a passing crush.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Sonia asked.

“There's nothing I can do about it.” Keira put down her phone and picked up the controller again. Sonia’s face was closely framed in the phone; she was not giving up. “Look, all I can do is be there for her, as a friend, without expectation.”

“And?”

“And…if she ever stops worrying about what other people would think, then…” She shrugged. Sonia stared at her a little longer, but Keira refused to meet her gaze. She was done talking about it. Talking about it hadn’t got her anywhere good. Thinking about Amelia being off-limits would never not hurt.

“Okay,” Sonia said before unpausing their game. The pair quickly slayed several more waves of zombies, before coming up against the big boss fight, for the eighth time of trying. This time, however, they got their timing just right, and a few minutes later they defeated the boss. Their characters celebrated victory on the screen.

Chapter 22

Amelia

Thehotairballoonof joy Amelia rode for a fortnight after visiting her sister slowly deflated the closer the clock ticked towards her parents’ arrival. The rain outside picked at the windows the same way her parents had picked at her mistakes. Each drop was a sign of the deluge about to arrive. Amelia rearranged the scatter cushions for the fourth time, and dusted the dustless bookcase again. She was halfway through getting the vacuum cleaner out from the under-stairs cupboard, having spotted a singular speck of dirt under the coffee table, when a sudden loud knock came at the door. It made her jump, banging her head on the low doorframe.

Shit, they’re early. Hastily, she stuffed the machine back under the stairs. She smoothed out her jumper, tucked her hair behind her ears, and took a deep breath.You’ve got this.

“I thought you were going to leave us standing out in the rain forever.” Her mother waltzed past Amelia into the hallway. Her father collapsed his umbrella and stepped inside, propping it up in the corner.

“Hi, how was your drive?” she asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Awful. The M4 can barely be called a motorway, with all those lanes disappearing and reappearing again. And don’t get me started on those blasted tunnels.”

Her parents simultaneously, almost as if they had rehearsed it, pulled a pair of slippers each out of their bag, dropped them in front of themselves, and changed out of their outdoor shoes and into them. Amelia’s mother stared pointedly at Amelia’s bare feet and tutted.

“Tea? Coffee?” Amelia ignored the silent admonition and headed to the kitchen.

“Coffee, please,” her mother responded.

“Same, but not if it’s that instant stuff,” her dad added.

She disappeared into the kitchen, her blood pressure already rising, and turned on the coffee machine. She circled her fingers over the back of her hand, taking slow, deep breaths.

Once she’d made the three drinks, she carefully placed them on a tray with a small ramekin of sugar, a small jug of milk, and two teaspoons. When she returned to the living room, her mother sat bolt upright on the couch, as if trying to minimise her contact with it. Her father had lazed back, legs crossed, and was perusing the titles on Amelia’s bookcase, as if surveying his kingdom.

“Still doing that basketball thing, are you?” her father asked gruffly, looking towards the team photograph on the wall.

“Yes, Dad. That’s why I keep inviting you to come and watch a game. We’re a professional team, now.”

Her mother scoffed.

“Anyway,” her mother said. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard, have you? You remember Julia’s daughter, Tabitha?” Her mother continued without giving Amelia a chance to actually respond. “Well, she’s pregnant. No word on a marriage, or even a fiancé.” Her mother’s tone was simultaneously gloating and disapproving.

“Good for her,” Amelia said without thinking, which earned her a glare from her mother.

“I’ve never forgiven her for the way she led you astray, so I’m not really surprised.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. She’d snuck out to Tabitha’s sixteenth birthday party with Clara, and Amelia had had a singular, barely alcoholic drink while she was there. Her father, upon discovering his daughters’ absence, had hauled them out of the party in front of all their friends and grounded them for the rest of the summer. Clara, only a few months shy of eighteen, ignored the rule, instead barely coming home. Their parents just…gave up with her, and became twice as strict with Amelia. She never saw Tabitha outside of school again.

Her mother took a sip of her drink, and Amelia used that as a chance to change the topic.