We’d done these lines a ton of times before. “It’s so sad, you know? Nicky and I don’t speak. He refuses to talk to any of his family now he’s a big name footballer.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I thought he was this cute guy who helped charities and visited little kids in hospital? Like the sort of guy you’d really want to be on your side. Nicky always seemed like he’d always be like, there for you and really look after his girl.”
To give her credit, she was doing a really good job of looking heartbroken.
“No, it’s me who does all that. Nicky likes to make it look like it’s him, you know, with us being identical, like.” I couldn’t resist the like at the end.
Kitty was trying not to crumple with laughter. She put the takeaway cups with the drinks Susan had ordered down on the counter. “You could drink these over at the training ground. Rowan Reeves and Jesse Sullivan are helping the little kids who are there for summer school.”
“Oh, yeah, that’d be good. Thanks for telling us.” Susan handed over her card.
“Rowan Reeves is going out with that girl footballer, so there’s no point seeing him. I think he’s pretty into her.” One of Susan’s wannabe clones said with a scowl. “I knew we should’ve gone for lunch in Alderley instead.”
“We need to learn more about the sport, and we agreed this was the best place to start.” Susan pouted, her lips looking very duck-like. “I’m happy to go watch Jesse and Rowan on my own – I’ll get more interest that way, so you can both go to Alderley if you want.”
I started to tune out, happy that I wasn’t their focus of interest anymore and Susan had stopped going on about pumpkin spice syrup. The fridge where Kitty kept the fresh juices needed restocking from the fridges in the back, and I knew there were a ton of protein bars to come out of the cool room too.
This was how I was spending my summer break. Most of my teammates were away on holiday, or holidays in Jude’s case. Rowan Reeves, our big-name midfielder had come back from somewhere hot and beachy in time to volunteer on the kids’ summer school. Jesse Sullivan, our captain, hadn’t gone anywhere as he had community service hours to do after losing his licence speeding. I had three essays to submit and a reading list to get through and going on holiday with Jude or Matty would mean having to fend off girls in bikinis who just wanted a night with a footballer, or half a night, or twenty minutes down an alleyway.
“They’ve gone,” Kitty said as she came into the kitchen. “Thank you – there are two sets of protein bars to go out. We’ll end up with a ton of the kids coming in after the soccer school and parents seem to like those bars.”
She’d stopped telling me off for helping her about two years ago, around about the same time that my teammates stopped teasing me for helping her out too. Kitty had started this with the student loan she’d managed not to spend during university, where she’d studied food and nutrition. She rented the shop and the flat above, and for the first nine months it was just her. Now she employed eight people, and no longer had to work every day. She reminded me of my mum in some ways, who’d been a single parent to me and to my brothers – who were actually her nephews (and my cousins) she’d taken in on a special guardianship order pretty much straight after they were born – because of how hard she worked and how determined she was.
In other ways, she was nothing like my mother. Thankfully.
“On it.” I picked up a tray of the bars and paused, Kitty was watching me like she was bursting with curiosity. “What is it?”
“That girl’s come in. The one with the long blonde hair and cute glasses. She looks at you like you’re a god but she’s too shy to say anything. She’s always carrying at least two books.”
“Oh.” I froze. I knew who Kitty meant. “She did one of my modules last year.”
“Maybe you should ask what her name is? You know, give yourself something – or someone - to do this summer apart from hang out round here every day.” She waggled her eyebrows at me.
I looked away, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Nicky, she doesn’t seem like a WAG-in-waiting. Have a chat with her.”
I shook my head. “I need to focus on getting my degree. I want to graduate next year.” It was half the truth.
Kitty frowned at me. “Okay. But if that’s the case, get the hell out of my kitchen and crack on with that essay.”
Three hours later and the bones of the essay were done. The blonde-haired girl was still there, staring at her laptop like I’d been, her brow creased with frustration or annoyance or something else that wasn’t enjoyable.
Kitty was right. I should go and speak to her, if for no other reason than to make her take a break from staring at her screen.
I headed over to the counter where Kitty was, looking through something on her phone.
“Can I have a green juice and whatever the blonde girl’s been drinking?”
Kitty grinned and put her phone down. “Finally. It’s on the house.”
My heart sped up as she made the drinks, my palms starting to sweat at the thought of approaching a stranger.
I could face a top of the table opposition with fewer nerves or attend a press conference after a bad game and not feel this much fear.
I picked up our drinks and walked over to her table, putting down the iced coffee.
“You looked like you needed a break.” It might’ve been lame, but it was the best I could do.
