Page 33 of Going Overboard

You know what? I know this is a pre-wedding cruise, and I’m part of the wedding party, but does there really need to be so much stuff?

I love Kelsey, and Neil, and spending time with Al and Kira, and even Brody, it turns out, is a delight to hang out with.

But do we really need to spend so much time together and, if we do, do we always have to be competing?

Anyway, I’m here, I’m on Brody’s team, he seems to be good at actually everything, and I’m told that having Al on the other team is also an advantage, because his arms are only good for throwing fridges over HGVs and looking great with a tan.

Personally, if this were my wedding, I would be keeping well away from literally anything that could see me getting hurt – I once gave myself a black eye pulling up my tights in a public toilet, so truly, nothing feels safe.

But sure, why not, let’s have a game of four-a-side. Let’s throw hard balls at each other. See what happens.

‘Right,’ Al says with a clap of his hands, because the man cannot turn off his competitive nature for a moment. ‘Let’s do this. I may be hungover, and I may not have played this before, but I came to win.’

He’s on a team with Kira, Todd and Nikki, leaving me, Brody, Kelsey and Neil on the other side.

I’m happy with that. Kelsey was on the school netball team, so those skills must translate, Neil is sportsy, and Brody is Brody.

Todd likes watching sport, Al is made of marble, Kira hates physical activity, and Nikki screamed during the warm-up when Todd threw a ball to her.

I like my odds. The only thing wrong with our team is me, I’m the weak link, but I’ve advised everyone to refrain from passing me the ball unless it’s absolutely necessary.

I’m happy to be on the winning team, of course I am, I just don’t believe I’m capable of doing anything to help us get there.

My help would hurt, without a doubt, but apparently this is supposed to be fun… ? So I’ll try not to overthink it.

‘A relaxing day of trying not to get hit in the face by balls,’ I say with a sigh. ‘Although I suppose you’re used to it.’

‘A day of trying not to get hit in the face by balls?’ Brody repeats my words back to me and, fair enough, they were a poor choice.

‘You know what I mean,’ I say with a roll of my eyes.

‘I’ve got your back, don’t worry,’ he reassures me. ‘If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s throwing and catching. I’ll be fine with bigger balls.’

I purse my lips. Now it’s his turn to phrase things terribly – then again, knowing Brody, he probably did that just to make me laugh.

‘I’ll body-check Al, if I have to,’ he adds. Yep, he has to be kidding.

‘Body-checking Al would be like body-checking a Boeing 747,’ I reply.

‘And I’d do it – for you,’ he continues.

I snort.

‘Let’s hope it never comes to that,’ I reply. ‘But how very gentlemanly of you.’

‘I try,’ he says with a wink.

It’s an outdoor court – of course it is, the ship is endless – surrounded by a safety net that presumably stops balls going overboard, or hitting the other guests. Knowing myself, I’ll find a way to breach that, if not with a ball then with myself.

‘Todd and Nikki are staring at us again,’ I tell Brody quietly, through gritted teeth.

‘Shall we give them something to stare at?’ he replies.

‘Yeah, do that really horny thing you see in the movies, where men teach women sport and basically hump them,’ I reply.

‘You want me to… hump you?’ he replies, smirking, one eyebrow raised.

‘I want them to see you humping me,’ I reply – phrasing! ‘I mean, I want them to see us humping… to see you and me, you flirting with me, or whatever. Honestly, men are usually much quicker to accept general invitations to do stuff like this.’

‘My reputation is bad enough,’ he replies. ‘And I don’t want to get put on a list. But, go on then, seeing as though it’s you. I’m sure it works better for golf, snooker – even cricket, if you’re batting. But basketball…’

‘You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out,’ I reply.

Our laughing and joking always seems to edge into flirtatious and it’s like I’m getting so into character, my brain starts to think it’s real, which isn’t ideal for me, but it’s great for the performance we’re putting in.

As I try out my grip on one of the balls (everything sounds dirty now), Brody sidles up behind me, his hands finding my waist with ease as he presses his body up against mine. His chin rests on my shoulder, his warm breath tickles my neck.

I knew he’d be good at it – just not this good.

He adjusts my arms, gently guiding the ball into position.

‘Try to relax your wrists – and everything else,’ he tells me. ‘Bend your knees a little. Yeah, just like that.’

I do as I’m told, which only makes me back up into him even closer. I know, I know, it’s an act, I asked him to do this, but it’s very confusing for basically every sense I have.

It’s a game. It’s all pretend. This is for show – for them, not for me, I’m not getting anything out of this except smug satisfaction. I remind myself of that on a loop as I feel every inch of him pressed against me.

If this weren’t for show, if he really was flirting with me, this would be so, so hot.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, get a room!’ Al teases us, shielding his eyes dramatically. ‘This is a basketball court, there’s no fourth base here.’

‘We’ve got a room,’ Brody calls back. ‘This is just the warm-up.’

‘Yeah, except you’re sharing a room with us,’ Nikki snaps. ‘And I think we’ve both had enough of your little… sexploits, thanks.’

Sexploits.

I’m not even looking at her but I can feel her glare burning holes in me. If looks could kill, I’d certainly be dead.

‘Ignore them, focus on me, my body guiding yours, and make the shot,’ Brody tells me .

I focus on his body a little too hard because I miss the basket so spectacularly, it was probably technically closer to going through the hoop at the other end of the court.

‘It wouldn’t be fair, if you were hot and good at sport,’ he tells me, very much for our audience’s benefit.

‘But you are,’ I reply.

‘Lucky you,’ he says with a smile.

I don’t even care that I missed – and that I’ll probably miss every shot – because this isn’t about scoring points on the court, it’s about scoring points off it.

Whether we win at basketball makes no difference, we’re winning the ex wars, and that’s the only battle I care about.

Todd looks so miserable and Nikki looks so angry – if it’s just a taste of how they made me and Brody feel, it’s a fraction of what they deserve.

‘Okay, let’s play, before this turns into an orgy,’ Kira jokes.

We start playing and I’m surprised how fast-paced and chaotic it is.

Everyone is moving like they’re fighting for their lives, and yet it’s so unserious, and so much fun.

Well, it is until it isn’t. Todd is getting more into it, playing like a man who has something to prove, and while playing the game might be child’s play for Brody, most of his effort is going into thwarting Todd’s.

They’re using Al like a sort of goalie, having him stand by the net, ready to reach up and bat the balls away, so it takes speed to get around him, but between Brody and Kelsey, they’re running rings around him.

I’ve touched the ball a couple of times, never for long before I offload it, but even I’m having fun. Perhaps I should have paid more attention, when Brody was showing me how to throw, but I think he was giving me a fake horny lesson, rather than a real one.

The ball comes to me and I panic, flinging it towards Brody, but making it almost impossible for him to catch .

‘We’re aiming for the basket, not the sea,’ Brody teases me.

‘Sorry, I was just so distracted by your big… arms,’ I reply with a grin.

‘Makes sense, that’s why I’m so good at cricket, I distract my competitors,’ he replies jokily. ‘But my eyes are up here. Focus.’

I snort with laughter.

‘I’ll do my best,’ I reply.

He runs past me, fingers grazing my waist as he goes, and it sends a silly little shiver down my spine.

We’re winning – not by a landslide, and not that it has anything to do with me, but enough to get under their skin (well, Todd and Nikki’s).

I catch Todd staring again. Not glancing. Staring.

He’s got that look on his face, like he’s trying to do a cryptic crossword. It’s like he just can’t make sense of what’s happening. Like all of the pieces of the puzzle are here, but he can’t quite fit them together.

Al calls his name and passes him the ball, but Todd doesn’t react in time, he’s too busy looking my way. The ball bounces off his shoulder with a loud boing, ricocheting straight into Nikki’s face.

It happens so fast I almost don’t register it.

One second she’s flipping her hair and shouting at Kira to at least make an effort, the next she’s clutching her nose and making that noise.

And it’s so familiar. A high-pitched, almost yodel-like cry.

I’ve heard that cry before and… oh my gosh…

it’s her… Nikki is the crying girl from the toilets at the wedding where Todd dumped me…

the crying girl from the wedding where Todd dumped me is Nikki.

‘Shit,’ I blurt to myself.

‘Are you okay?’ Brody asks me as everyone crowds around Nikki to make sure she’s okay.

But it’s like I can’t really hear him. I’m right back in that cubicle, replaying my conversation with Nikki, trying to remember what she said, what I said.

How could I have known it was her? I didn’t know her, she didn’t introduce herself, I didn’t even see her face.

But she was talking about Brody and I… I told her to dump him.

I said that if she wasn’t happy, that wasn’t enough, she should find someone who made her happy.

Ha, and then she found Todd, so that serves me right for getting involved in someone else’s business, but I was just trying to be nice and supportive and a girl’s girl and… shit.

I can’t believe I told her to leave him.

That was the night that changed everything.

It can’t be a coincidence that she dumped Brody and Todd dumped me.

I wonder if they were talking about getting together, or already together – I wonder if I gave her the push that made her give Todd the ultimatum that made him dump me.

The fallout zone just feels so huge, and it feels like me who dropped the bomb, who got us dumped, who got Brody bad press. Even if I didn’t technically drop the bomb, I helped build it, or detonate it, or something.

I drag my mind back to the present. Kira is checking Nikki over – Nikki who looks fine, but is definitely milking it.

What am I supposed to do? I could say something, I guess. I could connect the dots out loud, for everyone to hear. I could confess. Explain. Apologise… if I need to? I sort of feel like I do need to, for indirectly messing up Brody’s public image, with one poorly timed pep talk.

Or… I could stay quiet. Let it go, pretend I haven’t pieced the puzzle together.

Well, Nikki didn’t see me either, she doesn’t know it was me who encouraged her to pull the trigger.

Everyone’s getting along well enough. Brody and me, whatever we are, it’s working.

It’s fun. It’s helping us get the closure we need.

And I’m not crying over Todd any more – I know for sure that I don’t want hi m back, Brody doesn’t want Nikki, the plan is working. It has worked.

Perhaps this is what moving on really looks like – choosing to leave the past where it is. Not because you’re running from it, but because it’s no longer chasing you.

Brody jogs back over, wiping sweat from his brow, his eyes scanning mine as he tries to work out where I went.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asks. ‘Nikki is fine, don’t worry.’

I look at him. Really look. And then I smile.

‘Yeah, I’m good,’ I tell him. ‘Great, actually.’

His smile matches mine.

‘Don’t look quite so pleased she got hit in the face,’ he whispers.

I laugh.

‘That’s not why I’m smiling,’ I insist.

‘I’ll believe you,’ he replies. ‘Let’s get back to it then.’

The game picks back up – Nikki still sulking, Todd glaring harder, Kelsey yelling strategy like I’m even listening, Al being huge and Brody being Brody.

He looks so happy, like he’s having a blast, and he really doesn’t seem all that bothered about Nikki.

Telling him the truth might hurt him, and allowing myself to wonder about the details will only upset me. I just need to let it go – and let go of any guilt I might have too.

For the first time in ages, I feel happy, and that’s nothing to feel guilty about… right?

Let’s not rock the boat now…