“No, but—”
Blake grins, ushering me towards a run-down looking shed, it’s once duck egg blue paint peeling, patches flaking. He jambs his thumb into the keypad on the side, pulling the creaking wooden door open for me when it unlocks. It’s so dark I can hardly see my own hand in front of my face, relying on the grip of Blake’s palm on my hip to guide me.
“Mind your head, sunshine. There should be a string in front of you, give it a yank.”
I do as he asks, plunging us into a jarring amber orange light.
It flickers, threatening to give out, but it gives me glimpse of the old shelves, packed to the rafters with old gym equipment, skipping ropes, punctured footballs, and half strung tennis rackets.
Flinching at the large spider scrambling about its web between two empty first aid kits, I watch Blake grab an armful of bright blue cones, a football pump and silver whistle threaded onto a black rope.
I toy with the idea of pressing Blake up against one of the shelves. I wonder if he’s ever bought a girl here before? An ex-girlfriend perhaps? Or one of the other women I saw standing about outside?
But then the spider moves, and I throw my idea out of the door. Literally.
Yelping, I scurry away, back into summer sun, ignoring Blake’s amused laugh. “I’ll just wait for you out here.”
“I won’t be a minute!”
Already, I’m beginning to feel warm. The summer sun blazing down, baking the grass until it crunches under my trainer clad feet.
What I wouldn’t do for a drink of water right now.
Shoving my sunglass back onto my face, I glance backover to the football pitch. The boys are still kicking about the football, showing off to one another, but the group of parents seems to have grown. Six camping chairs already line the edge of the pitch, and somebody has even set up a makeshift table, although from here I can’t quite make out what they have atop of it.
“Could you get the door?” Blake returns, arms full.
I pull it closed, wiping the slivers of paint that flake off in my hands on the front of my jean shorts.
“How many people are you expecting?” I ask, nodding to the growing group, some of which, I notice, are watching us walk towards them.
“It’s eleven a side, plus wives and girlfriends… like yourself.”
I like the sound of that.
We meander back to the pitch, gaining even more sets of intrigued eyes.
“Grab yourself a drink and bite to eat if you want.” Blake tips his chin to the makeshift table surrounded by chattering women, some of which have babies and toddlers balanced on their hips. I can just make out the water, juice and bowls of fruit covering the tabletop. “I’m just gonna re-inflate the football.”
Pecking a kiss to his lips, I flounce off, sliding into a free space to grab a bottle of water. I crack it open, taking a swig and ignoring the hushed chatter and side eye glances aimed my way.
I’m glad for the distraction of a large car pulling up, another handful of men, these ones wearing blue jerseys, piling out onto the field.
Grabbing an orange slice, I take a seat on the grass, just beside the sidelines, my eyes fixed firmly on Blake. The veins in his bare forearms bulge as he pushes the plunger,pumping air into the football before pulling the plunger back out and restarting.
Who knew something so simple could be so hot?
“He’s so fit,” I hear a willowy brunette, standing not too far away from me, gush. I know she’s spoken her words aloud for me to hear, when we clock eyes, her swollen filler-full lips twisting into a smirk.
I simply smile back, wide and toothy, because don’t I know it.
That thought stays front and centre as I watch Blake bend to place the colourful cones onto the field in a row, each an equal distance away from one another. I have no clue what they’re for, but I don’t draw my eyes away, nonetheless, watching as Blake and his friends begin to run, zigzagging in-between the cones.
“It’s Calla, right?”
I peer up at the sound of my name, finding two young women, both not much older than myself, staring down at me. The blonde repositions her grip on the baby carrier in her arms, a soft smile playing about her lips
I nod wordlessly.
