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Niall was striker for the boys’ team at Westing.

He’d been obsessed with being a striker ever since we were little kids, and when Harrison put him on the first team last year his happiness was contagious.

His moods seeped into my bones. Like when we got our AQE results and I saw his score, it physically hurt.

It didn’t happen as much now, or as deeply, but it was still there.

And I wasn’t jealous. Not the way I was of Megan, how everything came so easily to her, how she walked on to the team without even thinking about it.

I’d always just been happy for Niall. Proud even.

And he was always the first person I wanted to tell good news to.

I daydreamed about Sadie starting me on the first team and Niall would be the first person I’d tell.

Well, Megan would know because she was already on the team, but then it would be Niall, and then Mum and Dad.

‘You ready to go?’ I asked him on Tuesday evening. He was playing Xbox.

‘It’s only five o’clock,’ he said.

‘I know, but we should get there early. Sadie likes it when people are on time,’ I said, pacing the gaming room.

‘Like, I know you’re into being early, Lex, but that’s way too soon.’

‘Please?’

Niall sighed and turned off his game. ‘Fine, but I’m choosing the music.’

I always drove to practice. In fact, I always drove everywhere. Which was fine. I liked to have the control of leaving whenever I wanted.

The club was empty when we got there. Only Harrison’s car was in the car park.

‘Lexie, what the hell? There’s nobody here.’ Niall thudded the back of his head off the headrest.

‘Want to get out and do some passing?’ I asked hopefully. I checked my hair in the mirror, then reapplied the lip gloss I’d brought with me.

‘Nope,’ said Niall. So we just sat in the car and listened to music.

‘There’s Harrison,’ I said. Niall’s coach was standing beside the pitch talking to someone. A boy. He wasn’t in a Westing kit, but we were too far away to see who it was.

‘Who’s that?’ Niall said, straining to look.

‘Not sure,’ I replied. ‘Wait, must be the new kid. Didn’t you say someone was starting?’

‘Oh aye.’ Niall leaned forward to get a better look.

Then Megan blocked our view when her dad pulled in beside us.

She jumped out of the car, and I swear to God her clothes were getting smaller every week.

It was January and she wasn’t wearing any under-layers, just tiny shorts and a Westing top that clung to her body like a wetsuit. She got into the back seat.

‘You’re early.’ I turned to her, confused. ‘Again! Do you have a temperature?’ I reached back to feel her forehead.

She laughed. ‘Nope, just sick of rushing all the time.’ She shrugged. ‘Who’s Harrison talking to?’ But when we looked again, they’d gone.

‘The new kid,’ Niall and I said together.

Megan twisted her fingers in my ponytail. ‘You know Zoe’s going full on with this V-Ball thing. She’s trying to get me too. And she’s having a party after the match on Friday, so be warned, she’ll probably try and set you up.’

‘Ugh, yeah, she said yesterday.’ I rolled my eyes. Then we got out of the car, leaving Niall in the passenger seat.

‘You not coming to watch?’ Megan asked him before she got out.

‘Maybe,’ he said.

I hoped he wouldn’t. It was extra pressure when Niall was there.

Sadie was pulling footballs out of a net bag and setting them up for our first drill.

I always tried to gauge her mood at the start of practice.

Tonight did not feel like a good night. Her voice was clipped, and her blonde hair was tied back so tightly that there was nowhere for her frustrated looks or crow’s feet to hide.

The other girls were just standing around chatting, and laughing like it was school break time.

How could you possibly be giggling about something one second, like Zoe and Amina, and then put in a decent session? You couldn’t!

‘OK, girls, big game on Friday. I want you to be sharp tonight – no lazy passing, no messing about. Got it?’ She scanned us. ‘And some news. We had to let Sophie go. I need full commitment if you want to be part of the team. Practice twice a week, no excuses.’

I felt sick. Even though it was nothing to do with me. The thought of leaving Westing was my worst nightmare, and if it was because of lack of commitment? I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating.

I glanced over at Megan to share a look, but she was staring off at the sideline. She got distracted so easily. I noticed that Niall had actually come to watch.

‘I still haven’t decided on the final team for Friday, so if you want to be in the line-up, it would be in your interests to impress me. Right, Megan?’ Sadie shot a look at Megan, who was still in her own little world.

‘Hundred per cent,’ Megan said and saluted, even though there was no way in hell that she wouldn’t be on the team.

I had to be getting better. Since the start of the season, I’d been doing extra practice at home and putting in max effort at training. Every week I’d hope she’d pick me for the first team, but it never happened. Not yet. Always a sub, never a player. But things were going to change.

So that night I gave it my all, running so hard I wanted to throw my guts up, lungs burning, legs aching, concentrating on my touch.

‘Nice feet, Lex,’ said Sadie during a dribbling drill, and it spurred me on, filling me with hope. Maybe tonight would be the night.

When Sadie blew the final whistle, Megan came sauntering over to me. She was hardly out of breath, whereas I could barely breathe and could feel sweat dripping down the back of my Nike Pro shorts.

‘The squad for Friday is as follows …’

Sadie’s voice blurred into the night. Heartbeat in my ears, exhausted, desperate, scared to listen. But my name didn’t come. And Sadie must have sensed my disappointment, because she held me behind.

‘Keep going, Lex. Your effort isn’t going unnoticed. It’s just tough because you’re competing against Zoe for right back, and at the minute, she has the edge.’

I winced but I tried to hide it. Clearly not very well because Sadie put her hand on my shoulder.

‘That’s not to say she always will. Look, keep putting in the practice. I know how much you want this, OK? Busting your ass for something you want? It’s always a good look. For anything.’ Sadie winked at me and I tried to smile back, but I could feel the pressure behind my eyes.

‘Thanks,’ I said, turning away and following the girls back to the changing rooms. I didn’t talk to anyone.

I ignored the chat about the Birch High Spring Formal and our V-Ball.

I just wanted to be alone or with Megan.

Where was she? I couldn’t see her, so I walked towards the shower. Then I heard Zoe.

‘Hey, Lex, you still coming to my party?’ She smiled as if she hadn’t been there when my dreams were stomped on by Sadie.

‘Sure,’ I managed to choke out.

She squealed. ‘Awesome, and make sure to get Niall and Hunter to tell the boys’ team too.’ She let her red hair down from its ponytail. It sat in fiery waves over her shoulders, and it just added to the pang of jealousy after my conversation with Sadie.

I had a shower. In the disgusting shower block that had barely any hot water.

Nobody showered there so I knew I’d be alone.

I let myself cry silently, tears disappearing into lukewarm water.

By the time I’d finished, the changing rooms were empty.

I pulled on my spare under-layers and my Westing hoodie, with a woolly hat over my wet hair.

I looked in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes, lips dark pink from biting them.

I reached into my bag for some make-up and did the best I could.

I walked outside into the freezing night, and it felt colder than ever because of my wet hair. The boys were almost finished, and there was Megan, watching from the sidelines.

I got there just in time to see Niall score. He was playing out on the left wing for some reason. At least Sadie had never moved me from defence. There was something I loved about being the last man before the keeper, the thrill of getting a last-second foot in to ruin their play.

I sidled up beside Megan.

‘Oh my God, tell me you did not go into those gross showers?’ She fingered my wet hair. ‘You OK? Sadie doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about; you’re by far the best defender on the team, Lex.’ Megan sounded like she was going to cry.

‘I’ll be fine.’ I forced a smile and focused on the pitch. ‘How’s practice going?’ I asked, changing the subject.

‘Check it out.’ She pointed across the pitch to someone I didn’t recognize. The new kid, who’d been talking to Harrison, in a mismatched tracksuit, running rings round the rest of them.

And it was like someone had hit slow motion on the world. The way this kid played, it was beautiful. It was like he barely touched the ball; the tiniest move here and there and he was sending the other players completely the wrong way. Then he took a shot, hard and low – Fry was never saving it.

‘Jesus.’ I’m not even sure I closed my mouth. ‘Did you get a name?’

‘Shane something. He came from Ferndale United,’ Megan said.

My eyes drifted towards Niall, who I could tell was raging by the set of his jaw.

‘But Ferndale are crap!’ I said, so confused that nobody had heard about this kid. Everyone knew the good players from all the local teams. The ones who stood out a mile and you half expected to see them on Match of the Day in a couple of years.

‘I know. Well, all apart from this guy, anyway. And he’s a striker.’ Megan looked at me with concern because we both knew what this meant.

‘Shit, Niall,’ I said reflexively, that familiar lurch in my stomach when something bad happened to him.

‘Yeah,’ Megan agreed, as if she’d felt it too.

Harrison blew the final whistle.

I let my gaze fall back on Shane. He walked alone, ahead of the other boys, and as he got closer, I could see his face properly.

His features were delicate but masculine at the same time.

His hair, shaggy, longer at the front and shaved up the sides, almost black, but it was hard to tell if it was really that dark or the shine of sweat that made it that colour.

One thing I did know? He was beautiful.

I had to drag my eyes away from him because he was getting closer and there was no hope of changing the expression on my face. I turned to see where Megan had gone, and just as I did, he hopped over the fence beside me and knocked into my arm.

‘Don’t believe in gates?’ I blurted out.

He turned to me. More than a head taller. Lean, quarter zip, zipped up to his chin, black track bottoms skimming over everything . He smelled like sweat and body spray. I had to stop myself moving closer to smell him again because that would have been weird. But my God, he was gorgeous.

He smiled at me. His eyes were light. Blue maybe. ‘There’s a queue. And I’m going to miss the bus.’

‘Zoe’s having a party,’ I said too loudly. ‘On Friday.’

‘OK,’ he said, looking bemused.

‘She’s on my team. Said to invite the boys’ team too if you want to go or whatever?’ I tried to act nonchalant to make up for the embarrassing display of desperation.

‘Where does she live?’ he asked.

‘Castle Hill.’

He whistled. ‘Nice. But don’t think I’d be very welcome. Not sure the team are too happy I’m here.’ He looked back towards the road. ‘I really am going to miss the bus.’

‘OK, yeah, well, maybe see you at practice on Thursday then?’ I dug my nails into the side of the fence. Mortified.

‘Yeah, cool,’ he said.

Just before he left, he looked at me again, his eyes searing right into my soul, making my heart race faster than it had all night.

And whatever this feeling was, I knew he felt it too.