Henri is in complete awe, and Miguel’s just about ready toburst with anticipation, until his attention abruptly shifts … to Shantal Mangal and her iced coffee.
She’s just on her way out through the atrium when Miguel, the fool, shouts, ‘Hey, Shantal!’
She turns and doubles back to join us, slightly warily. ‘Uh-oh. What’s going on over here?’
‘Nothing, don’t worry. Well, except football … what? Tomorrow?’ Miguel glances at each of us in turn, and Henri and I both nod.
‘Tomorrow,’ I echo, and I’m not sure what kind of spirit has possessed me, but I’m pulling out all the stops in prayer that she’ll say yes. I swallow hard. Shantal, a head and a half shorter than me with a voice like a Disney princess’s, has me off my game. ‘You should come. I know we’ve been busy since last week, but I just wanted to apologize for the Cantagalo chaos – the car and everything—’
‘Darien.’ Shantal looks exceptionally guilty as she holds out a hand to stop me. ‘No, it’s okay. I made you take me. It’s my bad.’
Henri and Miguel watch us with eyes ping-ponging back and forth between the two of us. I clear my throat and shake off the fact that glimpsing the momentary chink in Shantal’s armour has just completely fazed me. ‘Really?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘So this means we can stop rehashing the whole André thing?’
Her expression quickly morphs right back to a scowl. Ah, how easily she freezes me out. ‘Never.’
‘Anyway,’ Miguel cuts in. ‘He’s an idiot, but he’s right about the fact that youshouldcome. You’ll enjoy it, we’re just playing for fun. It’s nothing serious at all, right?’
Shantal gives Miguel an apologetic smile.He’sgetting smiles? Definitely on her good side. ‘I’d love to. But I have work to do on the numbers I picked up with Darien.’
‘Maybe just pop in for like, an hour. Please?’ I try anyway. I meet her eyes while waiting for a response. Please, please, please.
‘Okay,’ she finally gives in. ‘I used to play, but that was a while ago. And you are all scary good at football here.’
I wave a dismissive hand, even though she’s right, because most kids in Brazil who have a penchant for the sport practically learn to dribble and walk at the same time. ‘You’ll be just fine.’
I hide the relief I feel immediately after the word ‘okay’ leaves her lips. And I try not to think about why I’m already so obsessed with the specialist who’s going to leave in just a few months’ time.
Chapter Fourteen
Shantal
Ididn’t lie. I haven’t played football for ages.
Part of me wonders if Darien intends to truly humiliate me in the presence of all these football pros, so I enter the Leblon indoor field gingerly. It’s a welcome change from my room in the Ring, though, where I’ve now brought all my things with the intention of staying week-round. In the coming days, I’ve got to finish with all my work and simulation programs, so we’ll be ready for the first run on the modified practice track next week. I set the room up like some sort of MI6 headquarters, with monitors surrounding my laptop on my desk and wires every which way. It’s all I’ve been stressing over since we got here. A bit of physical activity outside my roost won’t hurt. Just not physical activity with the guy who is currently the biggest distraction in my life.
I decide to focus on the familiarity of the synthetic grass beneath my feet. I’ve put on a pair of studs for the first time since university; it’s just a pair I picked up that morning, butlike my original club studs, they’re neon orange and black. My teammates would call them my ‘tiger claws’, not only because of the colour, but also because of the cruel scratches and bruises their plastic spikes would leave on other girls’ legs. I was far too hot-headed and stupid back then. I will never disclose how many red cards I earned, but it’s not a number I am proud of.
‘Saturday football!’ Darien’s excited voice breaks through my bubble. A bag is thrown to the benches behind me. He comes from my left, bobbing his head to whatever he’s listening to through his black headphones. For once, his T-shirt and football shorts match the occasion. ‘Shantal, you came!’
‘Well, it’d be rude to stand you all up,’ I reply with a smile, adding that littleallto make for a slight stab – I’m not just here because he asked. My wary response also hides any excitement at being on the field again that might be woven into my voice.
He grins. ‘All right, chivalry. Nice cleats, too.’
‘Thanks.’
‘No, like, actually. Those are club-level.’ He gestures to my studs. ‘I’m definitely invested now. Don’t tell me, I want a surprise.’
‘I see.’ It’s almost frustrating howeasyhe is with everyone. He looks so at home on the turf, too.
The others flood in soon enough, toting their own bags and strapping on their boots. Alongside Miguel and Henri, Darien introduces me to a few of his friends from around here: Luciano, Tomas, Paulo Ricardo, and Giovanni, all of whom are exceptionally fit and exceptionally good-looking. What are they drinking in Brazil? This is going to be the most difficult scrimmage I’ve ever played.
‘So I assume you all like football?’ are my first words once Darien has acquainted me with the group.
‘Love,’ Darien corrects me.
‘Love football.’
Tomas nods. ‘We do this every week. It’ll be fun to play with some new faces this Saturday. Luce, actually, has just gotten some good news for us. Go ahead,irmão.’
