‘If you can smell colours, you’ve officially had too much. Anything else I can get you?’
‘Lemon chicken panini and a Coke?’
A few taps onto the screen in front of him and he gives me a thumbs-up.
‘Okay, but please know the Coke is pushing it.’
I return with a salute and tap my card after adding the generous tip he so richly deserves from my father’s bank account.
‘Go and sit down, I’ll bring it over.’ Declan pulls a can of soda out of the refrigerator behind the counter and tosses it my way. ‘We’re just doing a fresh batch of chicken, should be ready in five minutes.’
Over in the corner, my favourite spot is open, right by the fireplace, not lit right now but still so stinking cute. So adorable, in fact, I am thrilled my old teammates can’t see how much I love it because they would never let me live it down. But it’s the best seat in the whole place. An old saggy sofa sandwiched between the window and the wall, bookcase behind you in case you need something to read while you eat, the whole world in front if you’d rather people-watch. And the people-watching at Hemden is almost enough to make up for the lack of cell reception. Life at Marshall always moved so fast. I was so caught up in what was happeningtome, I didn’t stop to pay attention to what was happeningaroundme. It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I already feel changed, maybe even in a good way. But I’m probably not the best judge of that.
Another thing I love about this place, the weather changes faster than green grass through a goose. When I walked over, the sun was shining but now it’s pouring out and The Snug is really living up to its name when Michael, my goalkeeper, walks in, brushing rain off his short hair. We exchange manly nods, he goes to order a coffee and I wait. Compared to the rest of the team, he’s kind of quiet, reserved in that stiff-upper-lip-British kind of a way witha bone-dry sense of humour. I heard he’s related to the royal family somehow but if that’s some kind of story he pulled out of his ass to get more girls, I wouldn’t be surprised. Royal or not, he’s cool enough as far as I’m concerned.
‘Captain.’
Cup in hand, he climbs over the back of an armchair next to the sofa and slouches into it without spilling a drop of coffee.
‘You know you can call me Ethan,’ I tell him, wiping my hands on the feeble single paper napkin that came with my sandwich. One is never enough.
‘Where’s the fun in that? Captain feels right. Or General as you’re trying to kill us in training. Admittedly, we’ve never been this sharp as a unit.’
‘Thanks, man, appreciate it.’
I take the semi-compliment readily. Clive isn’t big on positive reinforcement, preferring to chew us out when we fuck up and only acknowledge good work with a grudging nod. I’ve heard a rumour that if we win on Saturday, he might grace us with a smile, but I’ll believe that when I see it.
Someone knocks at the window, and I see a couple of the girls from my course waving, but not at me. When I look back to Michael, he’s beckoning them inside and I’m immediately antsy because I don’t just recognize them from my classes, I’ve seen them both with Mia, and friends of hers are unlikely to be fans of mine. Even after the trip to the medical centre, even after I straight up asked for a truce, nothing has really changed.
‘Michael,’ the first girl says, throwing herself down into his chair even though there isn’t really enough room. ‘Ethan.’
‘You know each other?’ Michael asks and they both nod, raindrops shimmering in their hair.
‘Everyone doing psychology knows each other,’ the second girl tells him, taking a seat next to me. ‘It’s a small group.’
She’s not wrong but if I have to guess their names, I’m fucked. It’s honestly shocking because both of these women are hot, the one draped over Michael tall and gorgeous with long braids that brush the chair and dark brown eyes that would make anyone melt. The other one has short red hair and the kind of wicked smile that makes you want to know exactly what she’s thinking. Not that long ago, I’d know their names, their phone numbers and their measurements after two weeks of school but they’ve barely even registered with me. After Bethany and Lauren, I’m staying clear of anything that could pass as even vaguely romantic. Even if I have found myself thinking about Mia once or twice when I’m alone late at night. I must be a masochist, or maybe it’s because I know she would rather join a nunnery than touch me with a ten-foot pole, so she’s a safe fantasy space. Look at me, putting my education into practice. Like my dad always says, first time for everything.
‘I’m Alice, that’s Jenna.’ The redhead points to herself and then her friend, saving my ass. ‘Just in case you’re bad at names.’
‘He is,’ Michael confirms. ‘But we let him get away with it because he’s so pretty.’
‘And you’re hilarious,’ I say, and Alice returns a dazzling grin. She really is cute, but I don’t feel a thing.
‘What’s going on?’ Jenna slips out of Michael’s lap and pushes him across the chair until they’re both wedged in, side by side. ‘Strategizing?’
‘Kind of, we have a game tomorrow.’
‘We know!’ Jenna is instantly excited, something I’ve always liked in a girl. Enthusiasm is an underrated personality trait. ‘We’re coming, aren’t we, Al?’
‘If I must.’
The three of them start to bitch each other out in a way only old friends can, when the door opens and a girl in tight jeans and an old-fashioned raincoat walks in, hood up.
‘Mia!’ Alice exclaims. ‘Well now the gang’s all here.’
‘What are the chances?’ Mia pulls down her hood and approaches the sofa warily, like she’s walking up to a strange mutt.
Hmm. Is it me or does she not look psyched to find us here?
