Callan’s gaze settles on me. “Ma thinks my new friends aren’t good enough.”
“I did not say that!” Outrage underscores her tone. “What I said is it’d be good for you to have friends who aren’t footballers.”
“Ma.” Callan sighs. “Stop interfering.”
“Your mom was telling me you hope to play professionally someday,” Mom says. “I hear you did trials at Liverpool when you were fifteen. That’s amazing.”
“I did,” he says in a clipped tone, divulging nothing else. A muscle pops in his jaw as his eyes lower to the table, and he flicks the bottle cap between his long fingers.
His mom audibly swallows, and her smile is brittle when she says, “Callan is very talented and very driven. It’s always been his dream to play professionally, and we have every faith in his ability to realize his dreams.”
“Sounds like someone I know.” Mom waggles her brows and smiles at me because it seems our mothers just can’t help themselves.
“The meat looks done. I’ll get the salads.” I hop up, anxious to escape before more embarrassing shit comes out of her mouth.
“I’ll help.” Callan jumps up, apparently equally as anxious to avoid the cringe-fest.
“Oh my god,” I mumble as we walk off. “My mom is so embarrassing.”
“Glad it’s not just my mum. It’s like they can’t help themselves.”
“Truth.” I hold the door open for him as I step inside. “I suppose it’d be worse if they didn’t care.” Gwen’s mom springs to mind, and I instantly feel guilty for denying my mom the opportunity to gloat about me. It’s nice that she cares, even if it is over the top at times.
“Yeah, maybe.” He tosses his head back, flinging strands of dark hair out of his eyes. They seem more green than brown today, but those little amber flecks are still there.
“Doing trials at Liverpool is a pretty big deal though,” I say.
Callan props his hip against the counter while I open the refrigerator. “Nothing came of it, so it’s not exactly something to brag about.” His jaw clenches again as his gaze drops to the floor. It’s not hard to see it’s a touchy subject, so I don’t pry any further, even if I want to argue that it so is.
“Bennington Turo is a local D1 university with a great soccer team,” I say, not sure if he’s aware. “They offer full scholarships and have excellent facilities,” I add as I take various bowls out of the refrigerator. I made all the salads earlier while my parents were at mass with the girls. Usually, I work Sunday afternoons, but I took today off when Mom asked. So, I didn’t mind doing the food prep this morning because I have the luxury of an entire day to myself.
“So, I hear,” he mumbles. It appears any discussion of soccer is a touchy subject for Callan, and I can’t help wondering why.
After setting the last bowl on the counter, I shut the fridge door and turn to face him. “Want to talk about it?”
His head whips up. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever is bugging you.”
“I’m that obvious?”
“I’m observant.” I shrug.
Air whistles out of his mouth before he tips his head back, staring at the ceiling. I quietly remove Saran Wrap from the salads while I wait him out.
“I didn’t want to move here,” he admits a few seconds later, meeting my eyes again. “I was happy with my team, and it’s easier to achieve my goals if I’m in Ireland. I had already impressed with some games I’d played for the senior team, and there was a strong possibility they were going to offer me a contract.”
“To play professionally?”
He nods. “Ultimately, I want to play in the English Premier League. Getting signed to the Irish Premier League would give me more exposure, and I know if I was playing well, there would be English clubs interested in me.”
“You can’t do that from here?” I inquire, retrieving some serving spoons from the drawer.
I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to soccer. Sure, I’ve heard of some of the big English and European soccer teams, and it seems the entire country went crazy when Lionel Messi was signed to Inter Miami a couple of years ago. I’d have to be living under a rock not to know who he is and what his history is. Every media outlet was reporting on the story at the time. But apart from that, I’m pretty clueless.
“It’s not impossible, but it’s harder. I played against a couple of guys from Ireland who got signed by English clubs, but Ican’t think of anyone my age in the US who got signed in recent years.”
“Staying in Ireland wasn’t a possibility? You don’t have relatives you could’ve stayed with?”
