I genuinely liked soccer and I enjoyed it more when there was no pressure of ladders and winning in the mix. Another reason I joined was because I knew there was no chance Taylor would, because he’d rather drop dead than play a sport for fun, rather than to win.
I changed in my dorm prior to the first practice, because I still had bruises around my nipples —fucking Taylor and his fucking mouth— and couldn’t let any of my new teammates spot that in the change rooms. I showed up to the field early and decided to kill time by stretching my hamstrings when someone called out.
“Archie!”
Behind me was a familiar, freckled face, and big brown eyes. The guy was short, only coming up to my chest. Like me, he wore cleats and high socks with shin pads underneath.
“Matty.” He pointed to himself. “We got wasted together.”
Right. Taylor had invited a bunch of friends over and we’d played Never Have I Ever.
I quickly looked over Matty’s shoulder. “Are you here with Taylor?”
He laughed. “Nah, he said he’s gonna play for the uni team. I’d rather chill, you know?”
My shoulders relaxed. “Same. I didn’t know you played.”
“That’s how I met Taylor.” He tilted his head. “You guys are friends from high school, right?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘friends,’” I muttered.
Matty, for some reason, found this funny, and joined me to warm up. We did lunges while we talked about soccer, how we were finding our lectures, and the various parties being held that upcoming weekend.
For a moment, I was worried that Matty, being a friend of Taylor’s, meant that he’d be a wanker, but he was alright. Better than alright, actually. He was laid back and easy to talk to and fast on the field, despite being one of the shortest guys in the group.
We played a practice game at the end of the session (Matty and I were on the same team, which we celebrated with a high-five). It had been so long since I played, and I walked back to my dorm with a smile. Which slid right off after I stepped inside.
Taylor was at the stove, stirring something with a spoon. He looked at me, eyes dragging over my gym shorts and long socks. “Where’ve you been?”
It was the first thing he’d said since our conversation in my bedroom, four days ago now.
“That’s your business, how?” I asked, walking straight past him.
More days passed and the more I ignored Taylor, the more annoyed he got. The few times we were in the living room together, I could feel his eyes tracking me, the permanent frown he wore as he watched me cook a meal before heading to my bedroom to eat with the door closed.
Whenever we ran into each other on campus, I pretended I didn’t see him, despite sensing him in my periphery, staring with his arms folded. On Friday evening, I thought the dorm was empty. I stood in the bathroom, the door open, as I wetted myhands and pushed them through my hair. A finance club was hosting a party at a bar, but it was a button-up shirt and free-flowing wine sort of party, so I wanted to have fun, but I also wanted to look good.
Taylor’s bedroom door opened suddenly, making me jump. In the mirror’s reflection, I saw him pause, then lean against the doorway. “Why do you look like an accountant going through a midlife crisis?”
I continued to push my fingers through my hair. The slicked back look was actually turning out well. “Thanks.”
“Where are you going?”
I dried my hands with a towel.
“Archie.” There was a slight growl in his voice.
My gaze met his in the mirror. “Why do you care?”
His jaw tightened. “You look hideous.”
I was grateful my face didn’t show any reaction. “Thank you,” I said tiredly, keeping my eyes lowered as I patted my slacks to make sure I had my phone, wallet and keys.
“What time will you be back?” he asked as I walked to the door.
I left without answering.
There was possibly a chance I drank too much, too quickly, in an attempt to distract myself from my interaction with Fuckface. The main thing, though, was that I was having fun. A lot of fun. If I thought a bunch of commerce students crammed in a bar with mood lighting and wooden floors would’ve been a stuffy, awkward affair, I was mistaken. Wine was powerful. And it tasted good, after the first two or three glasses. And it was free.
