A Search for Balance

Chapter 10 - Falling

The first days of boot camp were spent practising, strategising, and then practising some more. The schedule Ethan had designed for them was strenuous but effective; there were shared practice matches in the mornings and individual sessions where they worked on fitness, strategy and agility until well into the evenings.

Once the first emotional shock of her return to Jersey had passed, Lizzie trained with such fervour that she would pass out as soon as her head met the pillow. She was too exhausted to even think about Orion, but it didn't matter either way. As sceptical as she had been about it, Orion's behaviour towards her was friendly but not overly familiar, and gradually, Lizzie found herself relaxing in his presence.

On the first day, she had missed Matthew terribly. Her longing for him had lessened bit by bit, and by nightfall of the second day, Matthew had felt further away than the hundreds of miles between Wigtown and Jersey. It bothered Lizzie that they had parted on a bad note, but with their training requiring all her focus, that sentiment began to fade as well. Zooming along the beach and over the glittering waves was like a much-needed breath of fresh air after staying in a stuffy room for too long, and it slowly dawned on her just how little she had been laughing in the last couple of weeks.

But Lizzie wasn't the only one who felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; there was a growing sense of togetherness among the team like there hadn't been for a long time. Even Skye, who was usually more taciturn, was eager to discuss their day when she and Lizzie were getting ready for bed.

"Dad's training's tough as an old Quidditch boot, but you can't say it ain't working," she said, pulling at the skin of her heavily blistered hands. "The team's progress is mental. We're gonna pluck the Magpies head to tail this year, just you wait."

Lizzie didn't reply; she was busy tapping her finger on the angry sunburn on her forearms, watching the white fingerprint fade immediately after.

"Boot camp really tickles the best out of everyone, don't you think?" Skye went on, not minding Lizzie's silence. "Take Yarwood, for example. Wouldn't have thought she'd be able to make a straight shot in a century, but she got that bloody Quaffle past Porter more times than I can count."

Lizzie glanced up from her burnt arms. "Morgaine's not a bad Chaser, Skye, else she wouldn't have filled in for me. You two just don't get along."

"She's rash and ain't got your instinct," Skye snorted, "but if she keeps it up, she might give you a run for your money. I don't care whether I've got to drag an English or an Irish gal along, the handicap's the same."

Rolling her eyes, Lizzie grabbed her pillow with her left hand and threw it over her shoulder in Skye's direction. When she heard a muffled sound, she knew she had hit her target.

"Ouch," Skye complained, "looks like your Reverse Pass is almost back to normal."

Skye was right, Lizzie realised. The Reverse Pass - where the Quaffle was thrown over the Chaser's shoulder without looking - was a technique Lizzie had been struggling with ever since her injury. She was doing fine with her right hand, but with her left - the one she had broken - she had found it hard to hit her mark without being in pain.

Lost in thought, her fingers closed around her wrist; come to think of it, it hadn't hurt at all since they had left Wigtown.

***

For the last session on their third day, Ethan had decided to split the roster into groups: he paired the Beaters and Seekers to improve their aim and dexterity, while the Chasers and Keepers were in for additional target practice.

It was already late in the afternoon when they took to the air again. The sun was burning down on Lizzie and the others, and despite the wind blowing landwards, their backs and foreheads were soon covered in sweat.