“I think you should do it. Don’t stop the momentum you’ve got right now.”
“How do you know Spain isn’t asking too? Or Colombia?” Leo asks.
“You’d’ve told me,” Oliver says quietly, realizing it’s true as it comes out of his mouth. Leo’s eyes soften like he knows it too. He starts to step away, but Oliver waves toward the room behind them.Tell them,he mouths. Leo nods, smiling now as it sets in. You only get this kind of call once in your career, if you’re lucky enough to get it at all. It’s special.
“Hey!” Leo shouts. “Guess who just had an interesting conversation with Terence Morgan?”
The room explodes—everyone is cheering and reaching over for hugs and arm slaps. Oliver clocks a few traces of disappointment, but few and far between. There’s little doubt the team rates Leo as a player and a friend, and no doubt at all that he’s made the case to earn it. Willem first subbed him in less than two months ago and he’s already completed the most passes of any Camden player this season, breaking another one of Oliver’s records. And they’re all hungry for some good news.
Anthony drifts over from his locker to stand next to Oliver, snapping at him with the wet end of a ratty towel.
“Jealous?” Anthony asks.
Oliver shrugs. “Not like I could take a spot right now anyways. I’m happy for him.”
“Very diplomatic,” Anthony says, goading.
“Shove off,” Oliver laughs. “He goes out there and charms Terry now, I get better, then the England midfield is coming up Camden. It’s good news.”
“Iknow that. I also know if I tried to tell it to you, you’d knock my teeth in.” Anthony has a shit-eating grin on.
Oliver hates him, but his retort dies in his mouth when he hears Carda talking across the room, holding court in his tiny underwear:
“My question is this: How is it that you are not getting any, Davito?”
Leo, red as a beetroot, tells him to shut up, then something else in Spanish that sounds ugly.
“I’m serious!” Carda presses on. “We might be a nightmare, but you’re the talk of the whole damn league. For the rest of our sakes,hombre,please do not waste this moment. Or at least send some of the girls my way.”
“It’s insane to me,” Ahmed weighs in. “You should see this man operate. When we were in the academy, there was a nonstop stream of birds in his DMs, likemad,I’m telling you. He was converting one hundred percent of the time too. Made it look easy.”
Oliver feels ill. He’s rooted to the floor, watching the interaction unblinkingly.That’s the game, isn’t it,he thinks.Goals get the girls.All this time he’s been reimagining one song’s worth of a moment, but Leo probably took someone else home. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Oliver is the fool for dreaming, even a little bit, about it going differently.
“Don’t be gross,” Leo says, pushing Carda down from his wide-legged stance up on the bench.
“Sex is a natural part of life, my sweet,” Carda replies, “sweet” sounding likethweet.
“I don’t want to talk about this with all of you, thanks!” Leo’s tone still hints at joking, but it’s rising in pitch. “I’ve been focused on my game, on theseason,which I happen to think is slightly more important than girls, unlike some of you.”
“Yes, you’re very noble,” Carda says. “But if someone snuck herself in here in a laundry cart and begged you for it, would you say no?” He shimmies his shoulders at Leo suggestively, running one finger down his chest and trying to flick at his nipple. Everyone is watching now, half-laughing and half-listening.
“I’d call security,” Leo says defiantly, throwing up his fingers in a vee when the lads start to boo.
“You are as bad as Harris,” Henri pronounces, tragedy in his voice. Oliver doesn’t even think to protest; the locker room suddenly sounds tinny and far away while he processes Leo’s vehement devotion to celibacy.
• • •
When do you leave?Oliver texts, after they’ve trudged back to London and gone their separate ways, allowing the gremlin in his brain to ask for what it wants, which is for Leo to come over and be near him, all the time, even if he knows better.
Wednesday morn x, Leo replies immediately, even the short text radiating giddiness.
Free Tuesday? I can cook something warm. No salad
No salad???
Special occasion.
I’ll be there. With an alarm set so I don’t forget to pack.
