Chapter 184
Tamara POV
Confused, I hurried over to the beachball practice area. The beachball practice area was set in a spacious park, just a short walk from the main campus. It was an open, flat patch of grass near the edge of a sandy field. The ground was smooth enough to keep the ball bouncing steadily, but there were a few patches of uneven terrain. A large net stretched across the field, marking the boundaries of the practice area. Laughter of the team as they tossed the ball back and forth sounded as I neared them.
On one side, a few benches lined up where some of the team members gathered. Some of them sprawled out on the grass, chatting idly, while others stayed focused on warming up or stretching.
Coach Dana stood in the center, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. As soon as she saw me, her expression hardened. “Tamara Vaslof?”
I nodded. “Y–yes. Good afternoon.”
“You’re late,” she snapped, glaring at me. “Do you have an explanation for that?”
I swallowed, pulling out my phone and showing her the message from the coach. “I received this two days ago from you. I thought it was real,” I stammered, my hands shaking as I handed her the phone.
She read the message, and her frown deepened. “This isn’t from me,” she said flatly, throwing the phone back into my hands. “Who did this? Why would you try to mess with the team like this?”
I froze, not knowing what to say. “I–I didn’t—”
She cut me off, her voice cold and sharp. “I don’t want to hear it. You think this is some sort of game? You think you can just waltz in here and make a joke out of the team? You’re wasting my time, Tamara.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I fought them back. “If you haven’t sent me the message, then who sent it from your number Coach Dana?”
“How am I supposed to know?” she said, getting impatient.
Dread ran down my spine. The thing was turning mysterious by the minute. But one thing was there—someone was messing with me big time. And I had to find out who that was.
“Get in line, and don’t ever do something like this again,” Coach Dana grunted. “Do you know I can report you for accusing me wrongly?”
I walked over to the side of the court, joining the other girls. They looked at me with judgment in their eyes. A couple of them whispered to each other, and I could hear the snickers. “She’s such a mess. She is accusing the coach of such a huge issue,” one of them muttered. I tried to ignore them, but it felt like the world was closing in on me.
The practice dragged on, and every time I missed a pass or messed up, I could feel their eyes on me. They weren’t kind eyes. They weren’t the eyes of teammates. They were the eyes of people who thought I didn’t belong. And maybe they were right. I so wanted to get out of this place.
I fumbled with the ball again, my hands slick with sweat. I could feel my face turning red, and I tried to shake off the embarrassment, but it stuck to me like a second skin. “Come on, Tamara,” one of the girls muttered, “Try to keep up.”
I wanted to scream on them, but instead, I just focused on the ball, pretending I wasn’t hearing them. My mind was spinning. Everything was going wrong today. First the situation with Tulip and Matt, then the message, then the way the coach had looked at me, like I was some kind of failure.
After practice ended, I grabbed my things and rushed out of the park. I needed to talk to someone, figure out what was going on. But ! wasn’t sure who to turn to. The idea of facing the coach again made my stomach churn.
I made my way to the admin block, hoping to get some answers. When I arrived, I was directed to the office for the athletic director. The office was clean, sterile–too cold explaining a lot about the person who sat here. I knocked on the door and waited for permission to
enter.
“Come in,” a shrill voice sounded.
When I opened the door, the director, a woman with short gray hair, glanced up at me. “Can I help you?”
1/3
“1-1 hesitated, unsure of how to even begin. However, mustering up the courage, I told her my issue. Then I requested her, “I wanted to ask if I could switch from the beachball team to the basketball team. I’ve had some trouble with practice lately, and I think basketball might be a better fit for me.”
She raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “We don’t usually allow mid–season switches. You’ve already committed to beachball. You need to see this through, Tamara.”
I felt my heart sink. “But I had applied for basketball in my college application form.”
The director frowned. She went to her computer, asked me for details and checked my particulars. Taking a deep breath she looked at me with a touch of sympathy. “I understand your frustration, but you signed up for beachball. It’s clearly written here. If you want to try basketball next season, we can discuss that. But for now, you need to stay with your commitments.”
I left the office in a daze, my frustration bubbling over. Nothing was going right. I was lost in a world of confusion, and it felt like no one could help me find my way. I needed to talk to Brad. Or Matt? No, not Matt.
By the time I got back to my dorm, I was furious. Furious at the coach, at the other girls, at myself and furious at Matt for God knew why. “Why is this happening?” I muttered to myself, slamming my door behind me. I walked to my desk and sat down, trying to focus on my assignments. But even as I did the work, my mind kept wandering back to Matt, to Tulip, to Coach Dana and the events of the day. It felt like I was chasing shadows, trying to hold onto the short end of the stick.
And
on top of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about Matt. The way he looked at me, the way he seemed so distant. “Why does he treat me like that?” I asked aloud. My heart ached, but I didn’t know why. Was it because of the bond we shared? Or because he’d been avoiding me for the past few years? Either way, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was missing.
‘He is our mate, Angel sighed in my mind. ‘It’s impossible to resist him.’
‘No, I will reject him soon. In fact I will reject him tonight!‘
‘No, Tam, no. Please…’ she whined. ‘Give him a chance.’
‘I am in this constant turmoil because of him!‘
I finished my assignments as quickly as I could, but my mind still wasn’t at ease. I glanced at the clock. It was almost time for dinner. Just as I was about to leave, a knock came at my door.
*Tamara?”
I froze. Matt. I wasn’t expecting him. He was suddenly standing at my door. Well, good. The moment I see him, I would reject him. I strode to the door with a mission in my mind and opened it rather furiously. “Matt Erikson!” I growled, staring into his eyes, and then every word that was in my mind, vanished.
He lifted his hand, showing me that he was holding dinner. His usual easy smile was replaced by amusement. “I thought you might want some food.”
I stood there, staring at him. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. Finally, I stepped aside, allowing him to enter.
“Thanks,” I muttered, still unsure of how to act. I wouldn’t reject him today because I was really hungry. Maybe tomorrow.
As he set the food down on my desk, I felt like going and hugging him. But that would be so stupid. Hugging him? Never. I think it was my mental state which was making me such a putty.
He turned to look at me and I realized that I was standing too close to him. I craned my neck up to look at him. And immediately I was swept in this crazy tsunami of attraction. My lips parted when my gaze landed on his lips. Goddess, hoot how to brew could one have such full and firm lips.
I was so captivated by him, by his scent that I forgot how to breathe. He brushed my cheek with his fingers as we stood there in silence. His fingers came to my lower lip, which he touched softly. “You look tense,” he said in a low voice. His fingers reached my neck to the point where my neck met my shoulder, where he would put his mark on me if I- What the hell was I thinking? I stepped away from him, and the moment shattered.
I walked past him and walked to my desk to take the food out. “I’m back in the beachball team, and I hate it!”
“How come?” he said as he sat on the bed.
2/3
I handed him his container and a fork as I took mine and sat on the chair. He had brought Chinese noodles and dumplings. As I ate it, I told him everything. He listened to it with rapt attention.
“That’s strange,” he commented. “I’ll try to find out about it.”
I sighed. “Nah, leave it. I’ll play beachball…” We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I felt better, relaxed. It wasn’t because he was here, but because I shared my anxiety with him. A smile tugged at my lips. “Any news about Tulip?”
He tensed. “She was given a warning by Dean Smith, but he didn’t take any action on her. Probably because of the institution’s reputation.” He rolled his eyes. “Buttt-” he said, leaning forward with a smile. “I’ve bought a house near campus. I hate seeing you staying in a dorm this small.”
