Page 6

5

Ten years ago…

I stood on the football pitch beside Harry, Mike, and a couple of other guys from the team when I spotted her. Emily, my best friend’s sister, the very sister he warned all of us to stay away from. But I had no plans to listen to that.

I watched from afar as her pencil danced across her paper. I couldn’t help but wonder what captured her attention so completely. The way she furrowed her brow in concentration was mesmerising, and every now and then, she would pause to brush a stray auburn strand behind her ear, revealing a delicate profile that I couldn’t help but stare at.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she relaxed into one of the seats in the stand, she had her feet resting on the back of the seat in front, looking so at ease and comfortable. I wanted to know what she was sketching. Was it the vibrant scene around her, the players on the field, or something from her own imagination? My heart raced at the thought of striking up a conversation with her, but I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her creativity. Still, the urge to find out more about her was growing stronger by the minute.

“Put your eyes back in your head. That’s my sister you’re staring at,” Harry grunted, whacking me in the back of my head and bringing me back to reality.

“Keep those hands to yourself too, new boy.” Mike scoffed before booting the ball into the empty net.

“I wasn't looking at Emily, alright?!” I snatched a ball from the ball bag and began working on my drills.

“Sure you weren’t, buddy.” Harry glared, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I focused harder on my drills, letting the rhythm of the ball help drown out their teasing. But even as I practised, my mind kept drifting back to Emily.

So what if I was looking at her?! She was fucking beautiful and admired by many guys at school. I was just another one in the never-ending queue, which pissed me off no end. I’d never let another boy go near Emily. I wanted her for myself and not just because she was beautiful but because she was the first girl I’d been around that made me feel alive and I’d only just met her.

That girl was mine. She just didn’t know it yet, but she would soon enough.

Once training was over, with half the guys in the shower and the other half already gone, I saw my opportunity and took it. I swiped Harry’s phone from where he left it on the locker room bench, which luckily had no password protection. With sweaty palms and a racing heart, I found Emily’s number and added it to my own phone. Sliding Harry’s back on the bench, I mentally punched the air, my triumph drowning the slight guilt of deceiving my best mate… but I didn’t feel guilty enough to delete her number.

Emily

I sat on the supporter’s stands, sketching the cake idea I had in my head on my pad. I felt so at ease when I was baking or sketching new and exciting ideas but today felt a little different. A pair of eyes lingered on me and not familiar ones–-no, these were anything but familiar. They belonged to Beckett Ashmore, the guy I had just met.

As I sketched, the tension in my chest grew with every sneaky glance in his direction. He moved on the field with such intensity, weaving through the drills, completely in his element. Each time our eyes met, a spark ignited deep in my belly.

What would Harry say if he knew I was even thinking about one of his friends like I was? The guilt that came over me at the idea of defying him was unmatched. But still, I couldn’t help but admire the way Beckett played. He commanded the field, effortlessly dodging his teammates and responding to their banter with a playful grin.

As the session wound down, I snuck glances at him, hoping for one last chance to catch his eye. When our gazes met again, something in his expression shifted, a hint of curiosity mixed with determination perhaps. Could he feel the same pull I did?. Before I could dwell on it for too long, my brother called me from the sidelines.

I quickly averted my gaze, feeling the weight of Harry’s presence looming over me. I had to remind myself to stay grounded, but for a brief moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to talk to Beckett without any barriers in the way. Or one that looked a lot like my brother.

“Meet us at the car,” Harry called.

I packed up my belongings and slowly made my way to the car, not daring another glance at Beckett on my way.

That evening as I laid in bed, my phone vibrated on the bedside table. Reaching for it, I saw an unknown number in my text log.

Are you awake?

Who is this?

Someone who can’t stop thinking about you.

…

It’s Beckett.

Present day

I stood in the middle of the pitch as I let the rain wash away my thoughts. I had arrived at the kids’ training early, wanting to get out of the house. I loved my parents, but they were completely overbearing since I arrived home.

“Shit weather, ain’t it?” Daniel joked from behind. “Bet it ain’t like this in Spain!”

“You can say that again.” I stepped beneath his umbrella before he handed me a takeaway cup of something warm. Probably coffee.

“You alright? You seemed pretty out of it a minute ago.”

“I’m good, mate. All good.” I didn’t know how much of that sentence was true, but I’d roll with it until I had no other choice but to give it attention.

As we turned back to walk to meet the kids, I came face to face with little Liam, who wore a scowl, his face like thunder.

“Are you still here?” He scoffed, obviously he hadn’t done enough talking yesterday.

“You back then?” I teased, hoping that today would be better than the previous one.

“Wow, aren’t you observant?” Liam tutted on an eye roll.

I reared back, his words acting like two tiny palms that slapped me in the face.

“Liam, are we going to have a repeat of Monday?” Daniel sternly asked. He wasn’t taking any shit from him today.

“How about we try and get along, and you listen to the advice I plan on giving you?” I offered.

“Erm, no thanks.” Liam grabbed a ball from the ball bag, dribbling round the cones with ease.

“Looks like he’s staying on the bench then?” I asked Daniel as Liam worked the ball like he had years of experience behind him.

“Too bloody right he’s staying on the bench. I ain’t having it.” Daniel sipped his coffee. “So, when does the cast come off?”

“Hopefully next week, then I can start my physio and see how long that’s going to take.”

“You going back to Spain for it?”

“I don’t know. The team has arranged it that way, but they also understand why I want to stay elsewhere while I work on getting my fitness back.” I was thankful they understood. Many teams wouldn’t have.

“If you need anything, I can give you a hand.”

“You can?” I was taken aback. I didn’t know Daniel much at all.

“I’m a physio, that’s actually my day job. This is just something I enjoy on the side.” Daniel smiled.

“I might just take you up on that offer, especially if you can get me back on that pitch in record time.”

“One step at a time, and I promise the comeback will be worth it.” And with that, I believed him. I truly felt as though he wanted to help me. Maybe it was the way he spoke that made me feel like I wasn’t as alone in this as I thought. “Right, let’s get this session out of the way and we can go for a pint and discuss the next steps.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Daniel let me take control of the session. The rain didn’t bother the team as they started working on their drills. Helping them made me feel as though I was doing something good, something right.

“Liam, are you not training tonight? You’re just gonna sit on the sidelines, mate?” I called to a drenched kid sitting on a ball, sulking. “And what’s that face for?”

“Shut up,” he sneered, rain droplets running down his face. “Just go away!”

“Liam, if you want to play on Saturday, you’re going the wrong way about it.” I tried to reason with him but he just continued to scrunch up his face.

“I don’t want to play if you’re there, so go away.” He turned his head away from me, throwing his water bottle into the mud.

“Then you won’t be playing.” I sighed.

Daniel appeared by my side, blocking Liam’s pathway onto the pitch.

“Training is over, Liam. Go and dry off. Kayla will be here to get you soon.” Daniel wasn’t messing around.

“Coach—”

“No, I told you what I wanted from you if you wanted to play and you have failed to do so.” Daniel turned his back to him, calling out new drills to the team.

“This is your fault!” Liam shouted, glaring at me.

“I don’t see how it’s my fault, mate, you’re the one who has bought an attitude to the pitch every single time I’ve been here.”

“I’m not your mate!” Liam’s face was a storm in miniature as he stalked off toward the changing room, his small body practically vibrating with anger. His cheeks were flushed bright red, the kind of flush that came from being so mad he couldn’t even control it. His tiny fists clenched so hard that his knuckles had now turned white.

“I think you definitely need that pint,” Daniel joked.

“I bloody think so too.”

After training, we pushed through the heavy door of the pub, the familiar scent of beer and food wrapping us in a comforting embrace. The low murmur of conversation blended with the clinking of glasses, creating a lively backdrop. We found a spot at the bar where the bartender greeted us with a nod, already reaching for two glasses and filling them with the popular beer tap option.

The walls were adorned with faded photographs and memorabilia, each piece a testament to the pub’s storied past. We sank into the well-worn stools, the kind that seemed to mold to our bodies, and took a moment to savour the first few sips of our beer. It felt nice to relax after the night’s challenges while laughter spilled out around us.

Between gulps, we watched the regulars engage in their spirited debates. It was easy to see that this wasn’t just a pub; it was a sanctuary, a place where time slowed down, and worries faded, if only for a few hours.

“So, you’re really not letting Liam come to the match?”

Daniel shrugged. “He didn’t do what was asked of him, so no.” Daniel finished off his pint before holding up his hand to order two more—one for him and one for me.

“He’s your star player, though.”

“The lack of respect he had towards you is not something I want around the other players. These kids are young and impressionable. I don’t want it to rub off on them.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know where his attitude has come from. He’s usually a very well-mannered boy.”

“What if I try to talk to him again?” I asked, not sure if it would work but anything was worth a shot.

Daniel eyed me. “You see something in him, don’t you?”

“He has the same drive, attitude, and love for the sport as I did. He can go far if given the opportunity.”

“And you’re going to put up with the shit he gives you to help him until you leave the team, are you?” Daniel quizzed, sipping his beer.

“If I have to, yes, but I don’t think it’ll come to that. He’ll come around.”

“Hmm, if you think so.” Daniel pulled out a pen he always kept tucked in his pocket and wrote something down on a damp beer mat. “Here, this is his address. Outskirts of town, top of the hill.”

Top of the hill…

“Alright, I’ll try and head over on Friday and see what I can do.” I shoved the address into my pocket for safekeeping.

“If he doesn’t apologise, he ain’t playing. And don’t lie for him, alright?” Daniel wasn’t kidding around. “It’s important for him to learn his lesson and respect his coaches.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, don’t worry.” I smiled, hoping like hell that I could get the kid to see reason and apologise.