Taking My Penalty

16: Under the Influence

REECE

The whole way home was like a dream.

I was drunk off a weird static feeling that shot confidence through my veins.

A bloody confidence that made me talk so much.

Way too much.

She made me feel some way that let go of every single thing that was stopping me from thinking about all the reasons why I should just shut up and leave her alone.

You know, like what I'm supposed to be doing.

I was only driving her home.

I asked to leave class early to get her.

I jabbered on like a bloody talk show host.

I begged an apology.

I gave her my fucking jumper.

I couldn't even count how many times she caught me staring.

Like, fuck.

I. Couldn't. Keep. My. Eyes. On. The. Road.

I was so blatantly obvious. I might as well of told her I drove slowly just to spend a little more time talking.

That was my best friend's fifteen-year-old, off-limits, only-a-friend-to-me cousin and I was delusional for her.

It felt like an honour just to stand beside the double doors of her three-story house, which I knew I should have never belonged anywhere near. I stood there,  fully convinced I was face to face with an angel.

I was in deep.

I was fully fucking consumed and drowning in every minute of her presence as I drove home.

I drove fast, trying to beat the clock running out to academy practice tonight.

Plus, Dad would be pissed if I was late home. I could already imagine the questions.

He would be in an extra shitty mood today because he had a meeting for work to miss so he could take Zoey to chemotherapy.

Apparently, not being able to converse with a tired company is worse than your chronically sick daughter so it was expected he'd be grouchy.

I dreaded coming home to that.

If I had known I'd be running late to drop Natalia off, I would have taken my stuff for training in the morning so I could just go straight to the academy. Instead, I was driving in the rain at the speed of a madman.

The water droplets were pounding the windscreen as I made the last five-minute stretch home to the other side of London, arriving on my not-so-fancy street in comparison to Natalia's.

I pulled up to the slither of a path outside my house, switching off the engine and taking a breather to check the time I was at.

5:10 pm. I had just under an hour to get my shit together and get to training.

Thinking of what to do, I ran my hand through the damp hair on my head from standing out in the rain.

If I'm ready quick enough, I could avoid seeing or speaking to Dad at all.

I grabbed my keys and got out of the car, getting re-soaked, before getting my bags from the boot to run for the door.

The sound of the television running last night's football could be heard as I opened the door.

Dad was downstairs.

The downside of my house was that it was small enough that everywhere downstairs was connected so every angle was in clear view for everyone.