Page 16 of Blurred Boundaries

Says the best friend of a pro footballer

Touché

So, pick you up Saturday by midday?

I’ll be ready

Dress to kill

Who are we killing?

I forget you’re ancient sometimes

Bye, Taj.

I had no idea hockey was such a big deal here.

The Sportovní Hala Fortuna arena is already buzzing when we walk in, and the game hasn’t even started. The air inside is cold the second we step inside, not really different from the winter chill outside, but no one seems bothered by it. People are bundled up in thick coats, their scarves pulled high. They’re standing around with cups of hot wine in their hands. Every time they breath out, it turns into a little cloud in front of their faces.

I pull my jacket snug around me and glance around. The players are already on the ice. From where I’m sitting, I can see them stretch, sprint, and glide. Some of them look like they’re twerking. Taj says it’s part of the warm-up.

Taj, meanwhile, has delivered on his promise. Not only are we in public, but he also brought Lukáš and Angelika along as chaperones. And if they find it weird that their lecturer is hanging out with them on a weekend, they don’t mention it. We take our seats; the plastic is slightly cold as I settle into it. The arena is filling up, sounds rising in layers, a symphony of footsteps and chatter.

I let out a small breath and turn to my companions. “Don’t expect a boost in your grade for hanging out with me,” I tease, trying for lightness. I chuckle, but there’s a part of me that means it.

They all laugh. “We don’t need it anyway,” Lukáš says.

And he’s right. They’re all outstanding students. I wasn’t surprised when I saw Taj has been sitting comfortably in the top five since his first year. If whatever we did ever gets out, at least it won’t look like I traded good marks for sexual favours.

A few minutes later, a woman settles into the seat beside me and smiles. It’s polite, something to be expected in such a packed arena where everyone is squeezed together. I smile back automatically, but she looks away just as quickly, turning her attention to the ice. I blink at that, then turn to Taj, ready to ask if I have something stuck in my teeth, only to be met with his scowling face.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“She’s flirting with you,” he says flatly.

“She’s not. She’s being polite.”

Taj gives me a pointed look. “You don’t know the effect you have on people, do you?”

That makes me pause. The tone he just used is similar to Rita’s whenever someone so much as smiled in my general direction. Back then, I thought she was exaggerating, making a mountain out of absolutely nothing, that she was being dramatic for the sake of it. I didn’t understand until the same messages I labelled ‘harmless’ became full on stalking. Then there’s the eventual burning of her car. In the end, she left . . . or maybe ran. I’m still not entirely sure which word fits better.

Now, I’m sitting here, staring at a woman who has only been polite, and I find myself wondering if I should’ve even smiled back. Not because I think she has done anything wrong, but because I don’t want to invite anything that grows teeth later on. The thought of anyone getting obsessed to the point where they’ll try to harm Taj makes my stomach churn. I clear my throat and force the thought down, deciding it’s not where I want my thoughts to go.

I change the topic. “Which one is your friend?” I ask Taj.

His expression eases immediately. He lets out a small chuckle and looks back to the ice. “Isn’t it obvious? The black one there.” He points, shouting, “Hey, Kingsley!”

“He’s so hot!” Lukáš says, almost drooling.

Angelika nods beside him, her eyes fixed on the ice.

I swear I didn’t see a single black player when I scanned the ice earlier. Now that I’m looking again, I notice him stretching near the boards, rolling his shoulders. At the mention of his name, he looks up and his face breaks into a wide smile directed straight at Taj.

He cups his hands around his mouth, gloves still on, voice loud enough to cut through the noise. “Don’t leave without seeing me!” Then he turns and skates off with the rest of the players.

Something hot curls in my gut. I don’t even know what to call it. I shouldn’t be affected by something that simple. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, or maybe I’m a masochist. Because the truth is, I know exactly what I want when it comes to Taj. That part has been clear for a while, whether I’ve admitted it properly to myself or not. The problem is everything else that comes with it, the fact that I can’t have him in the way I desire. I tried stepping back, but it only made me miss him, more than I ever expected to.

But staying close to him feels like I’m being torn in two directions. What does all of this actually mean for me? I’ll watch him flirt with other people, knowing I have no right to stop it. Knowing at some point, he’ll take one or even all of them to bed. Will I just be expected to be fine with it? I’m not sure I’m built for that. The alternative is distance, and I already know how that feels. So, I end up stuck somewhere in the middle, which is possibly the worst place to be.