Page 5

Teagan

“Hello? Earth to Kennedy.” I wave my hand in front of Eamon’s face. He’s been staring into space for ages, with his lips tilted in a small smile.

“What? Sorry, mate. I was miles away,” Eamon says, shaking his head.

“I’d say. What’s got your head in the clouds?”

He grins then, and holy hell, is he blushing?

“Oh. You and Norah finally consummate the relationship, then?” I wag my eyebrows before slapping Eamon on the back in congratulations.

He shoves me away, a huge grin lighting up his face. “Fuck off. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“What about shag and tell? And I know for a fact you’re no gentleman,” I joke. If anyone is a gentleman, it’s Eamon. He treats everyone, especially women, with the utmost respect.

“I’ll tell you what,” he starts. “When you and Layla finally seal the deal, we can swap stories over wine like a group of lasses at a hen party.”

Eamon’s words flood my mind with some very inappropriate thoughts of Layla. Winding her long dark hair around my hand and pulling it just enough to expose her throat. Kissing a path down her neck while tracing her luscious curves with my free hand.

Stopping those thoughts in their tracks, I quip, “Ooh, can we do each other’s nails too? I quite fancy a new mani.”

“Yeah, alright. Manis it is, but no waxing. I’m adopting a more natural look these days.” Eamon chuckles as he says. “What is the deal with you and Layla? Have you seen her lately?”

I shake my head and grab the back of my neck. “I don’t want to scare her off. I’m trying to let her know I’m into her without coming on too strong, yeah?”

“You know she’s nervous, right?” Eamon asks. “Norah said she hasn’t had a serious relationship before and doesn’t sleep around, so she’s probably completely out of her comfort zone. You may have to be more assertive.”

“Aye, I figured that was the case. I’m fine with taking it slow. I’d like to build a friendship with her so she knows I’m not going to muck about with her. I’m not Ro.” I grimace.

“Thank God for that. The world can only handle so much,” Eamon jokes.

The last thing I want is a fling. I’ve never been one to indulge in one night stands. I’ve never snuck out before they woke up or blocked their numbers. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize I’ve never actually been the one to end any relationship. It’s always been the other way around. The first night after Ashley left was a different story. I’d gotten completely banjaxed and hooked up with one of the girls in my apartment complex. I did sneak out then.

Falling back into silence, I should be focusing on my homework, but instead, I’m thinking about how to continue pursuing a friendship with Layla while also letting her know that I want more. Hanging out in a group is always a good time, but I want some one-on-one time with her. I want to know how her mind works and what she’s passionate about. I also want to know how the hell a girl that gorgeous hasn’t been in a serious relationship before. Either the men around her are blind, or she’s blocked all their advances. It doesn’t really matter, just as long as she doesn’t block mine. Which, so far, doesn’t seem to be the case.

I finally finished my classwork and am on my way to work. I’m looking forward to seeing the kids in the after school program. There are twelve of them currently, ranging from kindergarten to seventh grade. Since it’s still soccer season, I’ve been mixing work with pleasure by teaching the kids some drills. Last week, we practiced footwork, and now they are ready to move on to blocking goals this week.

The doors to the gymnasium open, and the kids file in. The younger ones are talking excitedly to each other, while the older kids have their eyes glued to their phones. Shaking my head, I consider how lucky I was to have been raised without an electronic device at my beck and call. I’m thankful for today’s technology, absolutely, but growing up on a farm and spending nearly every waking moment outside in the fresh air, getting dirty, kicking around a ball, or climbing trees, was far superior in my mind.

“Alright, you wans, put those buzzing boxes away! You know the rules!” I holler across the gym.

I don’t have many rules for the kids, but the one I reinforce the most is no phones or tablets once they enter the gym. I want them up and active, engaging with me and other kids. They always grumble at me, but it doesn’t last long.

“Mr. Teagan,” a small voice says next to me.

Looking down, one of the little girls from the kindergarten class is staring up at me with wide eyes. I squat down to her level.

“Aye, what is it, Gabriela?” I can’t help but smile at her. Her dark hair, big brown eyes, and caramel skin remind me of Layla.

“My mamá forgot to pack my tennis shoes in my bag today. Can I still play in these?” She motions to her small feet that are in flip flops.

“Unfortunately, no. That wouldn’t be safe for you,” I tell her, instantly feeling bad for the sadness in her eyes. “However, you can play barefoot if you like. ”

Gabriela’s eyes widen with glee. “Really?!”

I chuckle and nod. “Aye, lass, really. Now, go on and put your stuff on the bleachers.”

Once all of the kids are in and settled on the bleachers, I make my way over to greet them all. “How are we doing today, team?” I ask, clapping my hands in front of me.

A chorus of “good” sounds from the kids. I love this particular group. It’s a diverse collection of kids in not just age but in ethnicity as well. I learn more from them than they do from me.

“Who wants to guess what we’re starting on today?” I ask, gesturing to the small soccer goals scattered throughout the gym.

A flurry of hands start waving in the air. I point to one of the older boys, Gabriela’s brother, José.

“Defending?” the boy guesses.

I grin and pick up the soccer ball sitting at my feet. “Close, José! We’re going to be saving today. As you know, along with hanging out with you all, I’m also the goalie for the UNCW Seahawks…”

A few cheers ring out, filling me with pride.

“My job as the goalie, or keeper, is to keep this ball,” I say, pointing from the ball in my hand to the goal closest to me, “from going into that net. To do that, the first thing we need to learn is how to pounce. Now, what I mean by that is this: Anytime a goalie has the ball in their hands and it drops, the first thing they need to do is pounce on the ball. Like a cat pounces on a mouse, yeah? So here’s what that looks like.”

I toss the ball onto the floor, drop to the ground, and immediately put both hands on it.

“Now, some of you might already be familiar with this, but we’re going to start slow and work our way up, alright? Here in a minute, I’ll have all of you spread out and you’ll each get a ball. We’ll start by standing on our knees behind it, like this”—I demonstrate—“then we’ll carefully fall forward and grab the ball with both hands. Once we’ve all mastered that, we’ll move on. Any questions?”

Gabriela’s hand shoots up into the air .

“Yes, lass?”

“Can we pretend to be lions when we pounce?” she asks excitedly.

Laughing, I say, “Yeah, ‘course you can. Goalies are a lot like lions. They have to be brave and fierce and fast in order to keep the other team from scoring a goal. Any other questions? No? Alright, everyone spread out.”

I spend the next fifteen minutes carefully instructing each child on how to pounce. The youngest ones in the group make roaring noises as they fall onto their soccer balls. Once I’m satisfied that they all have the hang of it, I move to ankle rolls. I have them stand with their legs apart and the ball on the ground. While keeping both hands on the ball at all times, I instruct them to roll the ball around one ankle, then the next, then with their legs together, then in a figure eight between their legs, ensuring they use the tips of their fingers to roll the ball.

I continue with several more drills until they’re eventually ready to start blocking. I demonstrate this by having the older students shoot the ball towards me while I save. I show them different techniques for getting to the ball and keeping it out of the goal while also showing them what not to do. Once I finish, I have them all practice blocking my shots. With the youngest ones, I keep the ball on the ground so they can perfect their pouncing. The older kids have the opportunity to block a ball in the air. By the end of the day, all of the kids have successfully managed to keep at least one ball from getting in their goals.

“Alright, team, good work today!” I call out as the kids round up the loose balls and put them away. “We’ll do it again tomorrow. And, Gabriela? Don’t forget your shoes, love!”

“Okay, Mr. Teagan!” She giggles as she runs after her brother.

Once I see all of the kids out safely, I head into my office to make sure I have everything in order for the rest of the week. Just as I’m finishing up, my phone rings. Pulling it from my pocket, I answer without looking at the caller.

“‘Lo?” I say.

“Hey, Teag,” the voice of my younger brother greets me.

“Tommy, how are ya, mate? Been a while.” I’m closer to my brother than probably anyone in my family.

I love them all, of course, but my parents are difficult to talk to. My sister, Tarrah, is the golden child, and while we get along really well, her whole goal in life is to please our parents, which she does to a T. She’s the light of their life, while I’ve always been their biggest disappointment. Not because I was shady as a kid; I was just your average boy. I got into the normal amount of mischief but never caused any real trouble, other than being adamant that I don’t want to take over the family farm. I decided from an early age that I didn’t want to spend my life tending sheep and crops. I wanted to go out into the world and do something bigger, make a difference to those around me. Yes, farming is important; I understand that, but it isn’t what calls to me. My da, Martin, can’t understand it and takes every opportunity to tell me so. My Mam, Siobhan, doesn’t have the nerve to ever speak up on my behalf, so she sides with my father. As for my brother, he’s the baby of the family that everyone dotes on.

“Aye, it has. How are ya getting on?” my brother asks.

“Grand. Been busy. You?”

“Grand, yeah. Started a new job last week,” Tommy says.

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.”

Tommy proceeds to tell me about how he quit his dull delivery job and was hired on at a local pub working in the kitchen. Tommy never could hold down a steady job, which doesn’t seem to bother him or our parents. Da doesn’t think less of Tommy for not wanting to take over the farm someday. I listen to my brother drone on for a while before asking about the rest of the family.

“How’s Tarrah? She still planning on marrying what’s his name? Geoff? George?”

“Gerard,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Yeah, they’re thinking maybe next October? I don’t know. I tend to zone out when she starts harping on about it. I can only take so much, ya know?”

“Yeah, mate, I hear you. How’s your mot? Still seeing her?” My brother goes through girls faster than he goes through jobs. I gave up on even trying to remember their names. I think the last one was Angie ?

“Kristina? Nah. We broke it off a few weeks ago. She was getting clingy. What about you? Have you moved on from what’s her name?” Clearly remembering names is a family trait.

“Yeah, that’s old news.” I don’t want to tell Tommy about Layla. One, there isn’t really anything to tell, and two, I feel like voicing it out loud to my family might jinx me.

We talk for a few more minutes about our parents—still miserable—and if I’m coming back to Ireland anytime soon—I’m not. As much as I love my home country, the thought of going back just doesn’t excite me. Probably because I know that no matter where in the country I live, it’s still too close to the farm. I love the life I’ve created in North Carolina, not to mention the friends I’ve made along the way. Eamon and Rowan are more like family to me than my own.