Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Conrad has just chewed them out, including laying down the rules for the next few days, and the mood’s somber. So laughing and joking around in the locker room is not really an appropriate thing to do. But of course, my twin brother has never cared about what’s appropriate or not.
I’m about to do what I always do, remove myself from the situation, when Ledger calls out, “Hey, Stellan, a bunch of us are going for a couple of drinks to get over the disappointment.” He raises his hands up before reassuring me, “Nothing crazy. We know the season’s on. We’ll just get Kombuchas, I promise. You wanna come?”
No is at the tip of my tongue.
I don’t like get-togethers—never allowed myself to like them; too many people and too much stress.
And stress is an obvious trigger.
Lots of things are a trigger for me and I’ve always tried to keep away from them. Things that threaten my control. Things that make me angry. Things that have the potential to turn me into a threat to my promise. I keep away from any excitement, any thrills. I keep my head down and stay away from everyone.
Growing up, I kept my head down and focused. On my studies. On my books. On soccer, on chores around the house. Besides, me doing my chores was the only way I could be there for my siblings. My entire energy, my entire attention was taken up by leashing this thing inside of me that I never had the time to be there for them any other way. Helping them with materialistic things was the only way I could contribute.
Not to mention, someone like me—a ticking time bomb—didn’t deserve any sort of comradery anyway.
All this to say, no I won’t be going out with them. I don’t like to drink even if it’s Kombucha. And at the end of a long, grueling day at a job I don’t like very much, I’d like to get back to the hotel and unwind. But before I can say it, someone else answers for me.
“Forget it, Ledge. He’s never going to say yes.”
As always, my twin’s voice has a provocative quality to it. It’s because he likes to provoke. And he likes to provoke me the most.
My twin brother is my biggest trigger. Probably because we’re as different as they come. He likes to be in the spotlight while I like the shadows. He likes to be loud and abrasive while I like to keep my head down. He likes to fight while I like to keep the peace.
In any case, I’ve learned to ignore him. I’ve learned to ignore our differences. I’ve learned to keep myself at a distance, withdraw into myself from time to time so I can be around him without posing a danger to him.
Although sometimes I do wonder.
What it’d be like to get to know him.
What it’d be like to have a real relationship with him.
But I don’t have the luxury for that.
“Thanks for answering for me, Shepard,” I say.
He shrugs. “You’re welcome, Stella. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”
Stella is a silly nickname from childhood. It’s Callie who coined it because when she was little, she couldn’t stay Stellan and so Stella it was. While she doesn’t call me that anymore—of course—my twin uses it to provoke me.
Ignoring it as always, I give him a short nod. “I appreciate that.”
Again, I try to leave, but he has more to say. “I mean, it’s not as if the head coach will ever fraternize with the lowly players.”
Head coach.
Yeah, that’s me.
I’ve recently been promoted. Actually, it came through at the beginning of the season a couple of weeks back. It’s not something I wanted and for the longest time, I kept turning it down. I was happy where I was. I didn’t want change. Change is not a good thing for a man like me. I need equilibrium. I need routine, structure. I need boundaries.
Besides, I would have liked someone else to get the job. Someone who was more passionate and driven. Passion and ambition are not the luxury I can afford. That’s why I’m in soccer in the first place. It’s safe. It’s predictable because I’ve played it all my life. And it comes to me easy.
But that’s not the reason I won’t hang out with them. And if I’m being honest, it’s not also because I don’t like to hang out all that much.
The reason is something else entirely.
Before I can answer, though, again Shepard gets there first. “But then again, you still act like you’re Con’s errand boy, so”—he shrugs—“what do you say, wanna hang out with us?”
Suddenly, the atmosphere gets tense.
It was somber to begin with, but now there are currents of discomfort.
As I said, Shepard likes to provoke and this isn’t the first time he has done it in front of the team. In fact, he’s been doing this a lot, especially over the last year.