Page 11 of Try Hard

Terrance was a good guy and I didn’t want him thinking he was an outsider in the family.

He wasn’t. Sure, he and my mum hadn’t yet been together for decades, but he’d slotted in perfectly.

He made her happy. He was good to me and Soph—and Herc.

He was a good guy. A bonus parent in many ways.

Not a replacement for our dad, but another guy who came in and loved all of us fiercely. That was what mattered to me.

He grinned, standing on the other side of the breakfast bar. “You’re allowed to keep good things for yourself, Eve.”

I looked down. “I wouldn’t want to ruin anything for Soph…” That was essentially an admission, but what difference did it make? He’d already seemed to know what was going on.

“Sophie is perfectly fine. And, besides, you’re the one Fia is in touch with.”

“Only by default,” I said, more to myself than to him.

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s a reason for it. You deserve good things.” He grabbed his bag and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, the building site calls.”

My head shot up. “You’re working on a Sunday morning?”

He chuckled. “Only for a couple of hours. Hence the protein.”

I nodded and bid him goodbye a little slowly. And then I was left alone, with my breakfast and Hercules. At least he wasn’t going to give me a hard time over Ophelia—or, he wouldn’t so long as I didn’t stop petting him to reply to her.

I’d been excited seeing Ophelia yesterday, excited giving her my number, excited when she messaged me, but the truth was, from the second I’d realised Soph had a crush on her, I’d felt like I couldn’t.

Like I never should have had one in the first place, which was ridiculous when you really thought about it, but Soph was my sister.

I wanted her to be happy. And, it was undeniable that she and Ophelia had had a connection back in school.

Had it ever been romantic? I didn’t think so.

Surely Soph would have said so last night even if she hadn’t before.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled quickly to the conversation with Ophelia. Do you want Sophie’s number?

After I sent it and took a bite from my toastie—no longer hitting quite the way I’d hoped it would—I stared at the message. Perhaps I should have opened with a greeting; something, anything that led into the conversation rather than just diving right into the point, but here we were.

I’d expected to have to wait for a reply. Sure, she’d been up early for the plane spotting yesterday, but it was a Sunday and most people weren’t waking up at the crack of dawn to run like me. Maybe Ophelia was more of a Herc, more of a Sophie…

The typing dots appeared. Like she’d already been up, alert, and ready to receive messages.

I’m good. Thank you.

I grinned. She was so… her.

Of course, that meant I didn’t know if she was just being polite. However, I couldn’t just give her number to Soph and find out that way. I didn’t go around giving out other people’s numbers. I’d only offered Soph’s because she’d practically begged me to give it to Ophelia last night.

You’re up? I replied. I was so sure it was just me creeping around at this hour on a Sunday

The immediate recurrence of those three little dots had my heart doing somersaults.

I am, she replied quickly. Though I’m definitely not ‘creeping around’.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew there were a million people who would have been put off by her short messages by now, but I was not one of them. She was funny, she was replying. In her own way, she was letting me in. And I was not letting that go.

What are you doing? I asked, wondering desperately whether she’d tell me.

What are you doing? she countered quickly.

Eating breakfast after my run, hanging with Hercules, just finished chatting to my mum’s boyfriend, Terrance… You know, all the usual Sunday morning stuff!

I knew she’d never send a laughing emoji or type ‘lol’, but I hoped she’d laugh or be amused. Even in that small, hard-earned way she had yesterday. I liked earning her amusement.

And asking me if I want your sister’s number, she added. I was just swimming. The pool opens early and I like to go when it’s not busy.

Something electric pulsed through me. She wasn’t a runner, but she wasn’t Herc, either. She got up early on a Sunday to workout. And she was giving me information. I could have screamed.

Instead, I carefully typed a reply that wouldn’t scare her off. I just figured since you two used to know each other…

Our dads hang out basically every weekend. If I’d desperately needed her number, I think I’d probably have been able to get it before now.

Ophelia was right. She’d had ample opportunities to get it.

Although, had she known our dads hung out before yesterday?

I hadn’t. And… she didn’t exactly strike me as the kind of person to go around asking for people’s numbers.

Was she just being polite? Did she only accept them when the person in question was offering?

If she wanted Soph’s number, I wanted to give it to her. Soph wanted her to have it—Soph wanted her, apparently. I couldn’t hold them both back if they wanted to talk.

Although, Ophelia didn’t exactly give out the energy of wanting to talk to anyone, really.

Well, you know, I texted back, floundering with the unfamiliar feelings coursing through me, now that we’ve run into each other, you might have been curious how she’s doing, wanted to catch up, and stuff?

I’m sure we’ll run into each other at some point. It’s not that big of a town, and it seems our families can’t stay away from one another.

What did that mean?

I scrubbed one of my eyes. I was never like this. I was cool and calm and collected, and now I was… having a breakdown over whether someone I had a crush on wanted to talk to my sister?

Ugh.

I wanted to take her at her word, but I knew I hadn’t earned her trust, her honesty yet. She was such a closed book, but the kind of book worth the effort to open, to read the beautiful prose inside.

God. I was a lost cause.