Nightwalker

Two

Riordan

''You can't be serious right now.''

''I'm as serious as I can be, Coach.''

I can just imagine what I looked like from his point of view: Riordan Roche, a disheveled ginger twig shaped like a fucking clarinet reed, is still panting from doing a singular lap around the rugby field. And yes, we have a field designated for rugby. Welcome to the unnecessarily overpriced private school called Cyrus Dean.

''This is your fourth time within the first hour of practice. You better fuckin' hold it, Roche.''

''I promise I'm not using this as an excuse to ditch--you know I have a bladder the size of a pea.''

The first lie I've told all day was probably written all over my face, given that I had to share my bathroom with my brother, Sean for the past month while his bathroom got renovated. You'd think because he's a boy, he'd even skip the whole shower process, but the kid takes as long as a girl getting ready to go to her boyfriend's house.

I've learned to wait my turn to use the bathroom, even if my bladder wants to unleash its unholy wrath on who over crosses my path.

''We're having a team meeting after practice--so you can't leave the school.''

Watch me.

''What for? Are we letting people off the team?'' I fought to hide the desperation in my voice.

At the beginning of the year, Martie told me that extracurriculars could help me stand out in college applications, and what stands out better than girls rugby? Exactly. Nothing.

I tried out for the team, half hoping that I wouldn't make it. Somehow Coach Crosse saw something (I'm still yet to figure out what the fuck that is) in me and welcomed me on the team.

''To your disappointment, no. I'm announcing the new Captain and Co-Captain of both the girls' and boy's rugby team at the meet.''

Something I definitely don't need to be here for.

''So are you gonna grant me another three minutes of bathroom time before I piss myself or what?''

Coach Crosse's lazy eye focused on the ground while his normal eye pierced through my soul. I knew he was slightly pissed but never seized to be amused whenever we had a conversation.

''Hurry your ass up, Bambi.''

''Thank you, thank you, thank you!'' I sprinted straight through the school doors hoping to get to the girls' locker room without tripping over my loose laces.

My legs wobbled and popped awkwardly as I made a short stop at the water fountain. Unsurprisingly, I wasn't built for rugby at all. My mother used to play it when she was my age and my father encouraged me to join the school's team.

Deep down, the only reason I'm playing on the team is to feel a bit closer to her. Sure extracurriculars were an added plus but I revel in the moments where my father smiles after I tell him about practice. He's connecting with my mother through me. I know just how much he misses her.

I've always felt like quitting would be a selfish take on my part, so as much as it seems like I'd admire the choice, I won't ever go through with it.

''Could you not drink for so fucking long? Other people have places to be.''

I pulled myself out of my thoughts to face the impatient dude behind me.

He seemed alarmed at my demeanor--or maybe it was the troll face I acquired from rugby practice. Whatever it was, I couldn't bring myself to care.