Page 6 of Try Hard

Fia

M argot claimed all of Eve’s attention shortly after we’d returned to the group, while I stood back, watching my dad in his element.

If I’d had any lingering questions over whether Margot had been flirting with Eve before our walk, I definitely didn’t now.

And, honestly, I had to respect the confidence.

In front of a whole group of her friends and acquaintances I could only imagine she saw frequently at these gatherings, she was being very obvious about coming onto someone.

And not just anyone. The daughter of one of her friends—which was a little odd—and a sporting celebrity. The woman had guts.

Eve was clearly used to it, and I knew from her earlier comments about her whole outlook on the situation, but it was still interesting to see it in action.

She smiled and laughed and was engaging.

She readily followed Margot’s request to explain rugby to the uninitiated in the group, talking over and over about how a goal was called a try and what her position, a tighthead prop, did.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how much of a confidence boost people got from her when they finally walked away.

And, yet, from an objective position, it was clear she wasn’t flirting back.

She was friendly, not flirty. Even if, in the months that came after meeting her, I could imagine people telling themselves Eve Archer had flirted with them.

And, if Eve Archer hit on them, then they could flirt with anyone they wanted.

Damn her. She had a point.

I snuggled deeper into my coat and watched my dad chatting to the online watchers with Jeremy.

I didn’t know how he did it. Sure, the stream didn’t show them—it showed the planes—but it was still him, live and relatively unfiltered and real.

On the internet, for everyone to see. Sure, I wrote articles for a living about my experiences, and little pieces of me undoubtedly slipped in, but I couldn’t do that .

If little pieces of life weren’t in my writing, the whole thing would become dry, boring, and impossible to sell.

However, I’d mastered the art of saying a lot without giving much about the real me away.

Not Dad, though. Not Jeremy. Not any of them.

And I didn’t think it was because they worried less about the internet and its risks.

I think they just relaxed in a way I didn’t.

Were you still supposed to learn stuff like that from your parents as an adult, or was your time up?

Had I already decided who I was? Someone who didn’t put themselves out there for everyone to see?

It felt like that, and I was okay with it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a little odd watching my dad in his element, wondering whether I was supposed to be more like that.

After all, we lived in the digital age, and if I didn’t want a real digital footprint, would I just get left behind?

A plane took off and the whoosh shook me out of my oddly emotional reverie. Maybe I hadn’t gotten enough sleep after all. The last thing I’d been expecting this morning was to have some kind of digital existential crisis.

“So, we’ll be here for about another twenty minutes,” Dad told the internet. “But, don’t worry, we’ll be back again next week, usual time, and we look back to seeing you all then.”

A whole community of regulars, of friends, of people who spent their Saturday mornings watching my dad stand in the cold to show them planes.

And it had become this odd little ritual for my parents, too.

My mum refraining from coming out but being fully engaged in preparing for his trips—making soup and helping pack up the gear, and dissecting the trip at the dinner table on a Saturday night.

For all the ways the internet accidentally exposed your parents to people calling you Daddy , it also did some wholesome shit.

I watched my dad for the final twenty minutes, a few more flights being called and discussed as they took off and landed, and I tried not to think about how much my life was the transitory part, the planes taking off, while his was this part; stationary, present, solid.

And, when everything was wrapped up and I was helping coil up some of the wires the group had out, I found myself near where Margot was still gushing to Eve.

Eve was completely absorbed in the conversation.

Her expression reminded me of when we’d been at school where, no matter what time of day it was, she’d always had a smile on her face and engaged with others.

This time, though, her gaze flickered quickly from Margot to me and I felt a twist in my stomach like I’d been caught, as if I’d been eavesdropping on their conversation.

She smiled but quickly refocused on Margot, making the glance at me seem like a random glance away that happened in conversation. The amusement in her smile didn’t feel like that, though.

I ducked my head and wound the cable I was holding faster. Not fast enough, however, to avoid overhearing Margot say, “So, will you be joining us again next week?”

Eve laughed pleasantly. “I’m actually not sure yet. But, I can tell you that I’ve had such a great time today that I’m sorely tempted to return.”

Margot would take that to mean Eve wanted to come back to see her. Maybe she did. I didn’t know her well enough to make that deduction. They’d been talking for over an hour now, that was plenty of time for Margot to potentially win her over.

“Oh,” Margot said, sounding a little flustered and informing me my read on her had been correct at least. “Well, we’d love to have you back. I’ll be here, so you’ll definitely know someone.”

“My dad will be too, I imagine,” Eve said, and I fought a wince on Margot’s behalf. I wasn’t sure why I even cared, but it was one thing to be let down, but to be let down by being reminded that you were friends with the father of the person you were hitting on? That had to sting.

At least she was closer in age to Eve than to Jeremy. Or, so I assumed. I was pretty sure Jeremy was around my dad’s age.

Margot, however, did not have the same concerns or read on the situation I did. She giggled, and, even looking down, I could see the way she leaned into Eve. “Of course! He’s always here, talking about you.”

And Sophie?

Maybe Margot didn’t care when he talked about Sophie—or anything else in his life? She was clearly very taken and fixed on Eve. Understandable, maybe, but still.

“I could give you my number, you know?” Margot told Eve.

“Send you all the details of the gatherings. That way, any time you want to attend, you can just show up. And it doesn’t have to be just when you’re visiting your dad.

London’s right there, and I’m sure Big Jezzer would love to see you at more of these. ”

I really couldn’t fault the woman’s confidence. That wasn’t even a bad excuse. I could, however, hear in her voice how little her wanting Eve to have her number had to do with plane watching.

“Oh, sure,” Eve replied easily. “You never know when I might have a free Saturday morning.”

They exchanged numbers and I was genuinely starting to wonder whether I’d misread Eve’s interest in Margot.

“I hope you took note of that,” Eve’s voice said, quiet but right in my ear.

I jumped, straightening up and almost dropping the equipment in my hands. I shot her a wide-eyed look. The whole group would murder me if I started breaking their gear. “What?”

“My number.” She looked deeply amused as she gestured to my full hands. “I didn’t see you typing it into your phone, so I hope you’ve got a great memory.”

“Was I supposed to? You were literally in the middle of a conversation with someone else.”

“I said it nice and loud, just for you.”

I shot her a look, less panicked now that I had a good grip on everything. “So, you just gave all of Gatwick your number? I hope you’ve been looking to get a new one.”

She laughed. Everything with her was so easy going. “I have multiple numbers so it’s not the end of the world if that one gets out and I have to write it off.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“A whole host of reasons, but, you know, having been in different countries, then for business, and just…” She seemed mildly uncomfortable for the first time. “It was suggested to me once as a security and privacy measure.”

“Oh, right.” I hadn’t thought of that, but it made a lot of sense.

I was reminded of my earlier thoughts about my dad putting himself out there on the internet and one of the many reasons I didn’t.

Sure, people weren’t clamouring for my number like Eve’s fans were clamouring for hers, but I still didn’t like the idea of giving up parts of my privacy, of running the risk of things about me getting out.

Eve smiled again and glanced around before leaning in. “Don’t worry, though, I’m planning on giving you my private number.”

I glanced at Margot, who was positively glowing as she helped pack up the laptops. “Isn’t the number you gave Margot private?”

She shrugged easily, moving to take some of the gear from me. “Kind of, but it’s not the one I reserve for close friends and family.”

“We’re not family,” I said, really meaning that we’re not close friends but somehow unable to say that.

“I’ve known you since we were eleven. I think I can trust you.”

Something twisted in my stomach again. “I could have become a criminal in the interim.”

“A criminal who collects people’s numbers and hands them out?”

“Yes.”

“Did you?” she asked, looking deeply entertained.

“No.”

“So, there we go then. Safe.”

I hummed. I seldom felt as off-kilter in conversation as I did right now. “I guess so.”

“Thank god I don’t have to ask Big Jezzer to adopt you before I can give you my number,” she joked and I couldn’t help but shake my head.

“Is that how you’re planning on referring to him moving forward?”

“Obviously. But not all the time. I’m saving it for the most opportune, impactful moments.”

“Of course. Got to… make a scene with it.”

“For sure. The man’s an internet celebrity now, gotta give him that experience of fame.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked between Eve and her dad. “You’re not worried he’ll start pulling the same thing on you?”

She snorted. “He’s been doing that for years, so this is fair game.”

I grimaced. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t start commenting on the whole, ‘Choke me, Daddy,’ thing in revenge.”

She looked mildly sick at the notion for a moment but recovered quickly. “That’s basically the username of one of my most… ardent fans.”

“I’m aware,” I said as I dropped the equipment I was holding into the folding trolley it had come from.

When I turned back to Eve, she was grinning delightedly. “Are you, now?”

“What?”

She moved around me, dropping her extension cord into the trolley too, before she grabbed my elbow and led me over to the side, away from listening ears. “I would love to see what your For You Page looks like.”

“Come again?”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “You said you’ve seen bits about me online, but here you are, knowing the usernames of my fans.”

I felt myself blanching, cold spiking through my body that had little to do with having spent hours outside Gatwick Airport. “I know one username,” I pointed out, as if that helped.

It wasn’t even true. I knew at least three others. But, in my defense, they came up frequently, and it wasn’t exactly difficult to remember that there was an Instagram account named EveArcherr or EveArcherFans or EveLovers or… Okay, maybe I knew more than three.

She watched me pointedly. “And the one you choose to know is ChokeMeDaddyEve?”

“No! I didn’t choose anything. If you saw a username like that talking about me, don’t you think you’d remember it?”

“Most definitely.”

“Well, there you go. You, me, anyone we went to school with. It’s just… a noticeable account.”

She laughed. “They’re definitely trying to be, I’ll give them that.”

“Right. So. There you go.”

She bit the corner of her lip like she was more amused than she was willing to let on, but it was written across her face. “Remember Timothy?”

I cast my mind back. “No?”

“Really shy guy who sat next to me in our English class in year ten. Said about five words out loud all year.”

“Oh, yeah, I do remember him,” I said, suddenly able to place the memory. I’d only ever had English with him.

Eve nodded. “Imagine if there was a fan account out there for him with that name. I guess I’d remember that.”

“I would too, if only because saying ‘Eve’ in an account for Timothy is odd.”

She laughed and poked my shoulder gently. “Okay, snark. You know what I mean.”

I did indeed. Which had actually been my point, but it didn’t matter much, so long as she wasn’t fixating on weird reasons I knew her fan account names. What mattered was that I was right: you didn’t forget when someone had a choke me, Daddy account in their honour.

“Fia?” my dad called, and I turned, honestly a little grateful for the interruption. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one day. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” I called back before shooting a quick look at Eve. “Well, this has been… an experience.”

She laughed freely and held out her hand, palm up.

I looked down at it, puzzled, and, awkwardly, I brought my own hand up to give her a low five.

Before I’d even done it, I regretted it, but I especially did when her eyes lit up and she looked at me far too fondly.

“What?” I asked, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing.” She shook her head, keeping her hand out. “I was actually looking for your phone.”

“To check my feeds?”

“No. You don’t need to worry. To give you my number. It’s going to be hard to stay in touch without it.”

“I thought you wanted me to remember it.”

“Actually, I think you’ll recall me telling you I was giving you the friends and family number.”

“Oh, that’s not the one you gave Margot?” I asked lightly, even though I didn’t feel light at all.

She shook her head with narrowed, bright eyes. “Trouble. Now, shall I put my number in or do you want a business card?”

“You have your private number on your business cards?”

“I do not. So, then, you’d have to go through my office and explain to them that you were trying to deliver a Tizer to me, and they’d have so many questions.”

I shot her a look. “So much confidence in this Tizer despite the fact that you’ve failed to win it thus far.”

She leaned in and the full force of her dark blue eyes was overwhelming. “I don’t give up after one attempt. I will win that Tizer.”

I nodded slowly, fully believing her like she was hypnotising me.

She grinned. “So, do you want my number?”

Yes. I wanted her number a ridiculous amount for someone I’d only just reconnected with. I wanted to know how she was planning to win that drink, and I wanted to know if she would.

I bit my lower lip, pulling it into my mouth, and handed her my phone.