‘What do you mean you don’t know my name?!’
Quicker than I can blink, she’s off the mattress and on her feet, grabbing at anything she can reach and hurling it across the room. Bye bye, laptop. See ya later, lamp. I know it’s a stereotype and not at all true to say hot girls are always crazy, but damn if this one isn’t trying to reinforce the narrative. I’m actually grateful my dad refused to buy me that PS5, there’s a limit to how much important stuff she can destroy.
‘Okay, good to meet you, but like I said, I’m running late so yeah, leave your name and number and I’ll give you a call.’ I raise a hand as I shove my feet into my shoes, snatch up my cleats and my kit, and grab a stick of gum from out of my jacket pocket on my way out the door. ‘Or don’t, totally up to you.’
And I can still hear her yelling when I bolt out the front door of Carpenter House thirty seconds later.
‘Well, well, well, here he is. We were about to send out a search party. Ethan Taylor, I presume?’
Clive Woods didn’t make much of an impression on me during our conversation on Zoom but then I wasn’t paying that muchattention. Average height, average build, he was a player for a middle-ranked club before he started coaching, according to my very rough research, but it turns out you can’t always get a good read on someone through a computer screen. In person he seems taller and way more intimidating. He still has a striker’s build, narrow torso and strong legs, and yeah, maybe he’s a little old in the tooth but there’s a fire in his eyes that I do not want to mess with.
‘Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.’ He crosses his arms against his chest, glowering from under salt-and-pepper eyebrows. ‘Would you like to tell me where you’ve been?’
‘Sorry, Coach.’
It’s getting to be a habit, beginning all my conversations with an apology.
‘The directions to the training centre are on my phone.’ I hold up the useless device as evidence but he remains unmoved. ‘I forgot there’s no cell service.’
He looks me up and down, completely impassive. I have no idea whether he believes me or not and when he opens his mouth, I’m half expecting him to tell me to fuck off back to the States before I’ve even kicked a ball.
‘Everybody gets one chance to drop a bollock. This was yours. You’re with Baral. Don’t show up late to my practice ever again.’
His tone is gruff but reasonable and I bite back the urge to apologize again as he turns his attention back to a group of players turning hip circles. My whole body expands, lungs burning as I let loose the breath that’s been caught in my chest.
‘Drop a bollock?’ I say to Assad as I fall into line with his guys, my arms out in front of me and kicking upwards until my foot connects with my hand.
‘One chance to fuck up. I wouldn’t test him if I were you.’
‘Wasn’t planning to,’ I grunt, already sweating. ‘Dude, what was in those drinks last night?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Which drinks? The beers were just beers, but Christ only knows what you were mixing by the end. Word to the wise, stay off the squadka the night before training.’
Squadka? Even the sound of it makes me feel queasy.
‘You think Coach knows I’m hungover?’
‘I think he’s got eyes.’ Assad jabs a gentle elbow into my ribs. ‘Don’t panic, I covered for you. Said the jet lag hit you hard. Best thing you can do right now is follow my lead, and whatever you do, don’t throw up.’
I avoided the mirror this morning, but I can smell myself and feel the clammy sheen on my skin. I don’t need a visual to know how bad the situation is.
‘Grapevines!’
Coach yells out the order and we all turn sideways to start the new drill. The ground is softer than I’m used to and when I lurch forwards, Assad grabs the back of my shirt to keep me upright.
‘Okay?’ he asks, looking truly concerned.
‘Okay,’ I reply. ‘Or I will be, thanks.’
‘On to more important matters. How did it go with Bethany?’
‘Bethany!’ I let my head fall back, eyes closed for a second. Bethany. Iknewit began with a B.
‘And from that answer I will infer the answer is “not well”.’ He chuckles at the despair on my face, and I reflexively cover my crotch, managing a tepid smirk.
‘Usually I would remind you that assuming only makes an ass out of you and me, but in this instance, assume away, my friend, assume away.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much, there are plenty more where she came from. No end of froupies at Hemden if that’s your thing.’
