Page 9

School the next day was a blur. I was thinking about the match.

Not just mine, but Shane’s. And the rest of my brain was thinking about what I was going to wear to Zoe’s party, and hoping that Shane was going to be there.

I didn’t even care that Niall was moping about the house.

I shoved his feelings out of the way to make room for mine, the ones that were burning and aching to see the boy I’d just met.

I spent ages getting ready for the match.

Perfect hair, perfect make-up and my favourite perfume, the one that was just the right side of sweet and lasted all day.

I made sure to do extra stretches and sit-ups, even though I was on the bench.

Just in case they needed me. I did them in my bedroom because doing them outside would just be asking for comments from Mum and Dad, or worse, Niall, and they all knew I wasn’t actually playing tonight.

Dad drove us, and all his attempts at conversation fell flat.

I was in another world and Niall was in a mood.

I thought about telling Dad about Niall and Megan then and there in the car, in the traffic jam through town.

Then I could watch Niall squirm, and it would be payback watching him explain to Dad that he has a girlfriend.

I knew how awkward he felt about all that stuff.

When Mum tried to talk to him about puberty when we were younger, he locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until she promised to stop trying to talk to him.

And he was the same about girls, except with me.

He used to tell me who he had a crush on.

Used to.

I stared out the window, willing the traffic lights to change.

I let my eyes lose focus and concentrated on the blurred, multicoloured streaks that turned the night into an abstract painting.

An attempt to stop thinking about Niall.

But when we pulled into the Dub and I stepped out of the car, I didn’t have to try. Something changed.

I was in it. Hypnotized by the Friday-night lights. The atmosphere. The pitch lit up like a stage in the darkness. And I suppose it was a stage, a performance. And I couldn’t wait for Shane’s show.

We walked over to the pitch and left Dad with the rest of the spectators. The whole team were there already, warming up with Sadie on the pitch.

‘Come on, Lex.’ She waved me over and I started warming up with the other girls but scanning the crowd for Shane.

‘This is going to be a tough match. I want you all to give it one hundred per cent. Midfield – Cara, Lola, Megan – do not stop running. Do not stop looking for passes. Wait, where’s Megan?

’ Sadie looked at her watch then back to the entry gate to see Megan running across the pitch. ‘Megan, we’re about to kick off!’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Megan didn’t even have an excuse, and it didn’t matter; it wasn’t like Sadie would ever put her on the bench.

Megan pulled off her hoodie and grinned back at Niall, who was standing with Dad at the side of the pitch.

And then I saw him. Standing by himself, hands in pockets, staring right at me. I tried to stop myself smiling, but I couldn’t. So I looked down at my feet, Sadie’s words a blur.

‘Go Westing!’ The girls shouted together, but my head was too full of Shane.

I held his gaze as I walked back to the bench and sat down.

The match was intense. The last time we played Cliftonville they beat us three nil.

But this time? We were putting up a fight.

Nil–nil at half-time. I tried to look like I didn’t care if Sadie put me on or not, but inside I was begging for it.

Zoe wasn’t playing that well. I could do just as good a job as her.

I looked at her as she wiped her brow, and wondered if Shane noticed how good she looked tonight.

How her hair swung in a perfect ponytail and how long her legs looked in the Westing shorts.

‘OK, same team. Come on, girls, let’s win this,’ Sadie said, then walked back to the sideline. I went back to the bench and sat down beside Amina and Penny, who were complaining that Sadie wouldn’t let them have their phones.

‘We’re supposed to be watching the match,’ I said, stating the obvious.

Amina sighed. ‘Ugh, can you be bothered? We won’t be playing; I think they just have to have subs or something.’

‘You don’t know that,’ I said. ‘Yes, Lola!’ I stood up as she travelled with the ball into their box.

She passed it to Megan. Sadie was screaming ‘hit’.

And she did. Hard and low, bottom-left corner; it was perfect.

I cheered without thinking about all the other stuff.

Sadie cheered, the whole team cheered. And then I felt stupid.

When it all died down and Cliftonville had possession again, the crowd silent, I just felt pointless and pissed off at myself for cheering. Amina and Penny were right.

The match ended two–one to us, and I should have been happier, but sitting on the bench all night in the freezing cold with Shane there to witness it, had dampened my mood. I picked up my bag and started to walk away from the team when I heard my name.

‘Lexie.’

I looked up and scanned the other side of the fence. And there he was. Staring at me, waving me over to him. And all the other stuff? White noise.

‘Shane,’ I said. ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ I didn’t know what else to say.

‘Meet you behind the pavilion in five?’ He raised his eyebrows and flicked his eyes towards the big white building. The boys match didn’t start for another thirty minutes.

‘Sure,’ I said, trying to tone it down so he wouldn’t hear the excitement in my voice.

I ignored the shouts of my name from Megan and tried to hide behind people as I passed Dad.

And there he was at the back of the pavilion, standing against the wall, looking at his phone, one foot resting on the brick.

‘Hey,’ I said.

He turned round, smiling, and all the disappointment from not playing in the match just disappeared into the night.

‘Hey,’ he replied. ‘Good match.’

‘Yep,’ I said, walking over and standing in front of him.

‘You know what would have made it better?’

I looked up. ‘What?’

‘Seeing you out there.’

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat when he said it. It was like all the feelings came back at once. The disappointment. The fact I was just a sub, that I’d never be as good as Megan.

‘Hey, you OK?’

He took my hand. But it wasn’t just my hand; every nerve in my body was on fire.

I looked up at him. ‘Yeah, I’m OK.’ I whispered, moving closer, so close I could feel the heat of his body.

And then something happened. Something I can’t explain because it wasn’t conscious. It was primal.

I turned into him, so he was pressed against the wall.

Right there in the dark I stood on my toes and reached up to kiss him.

And he kissed me back. His mouth tasted of Coke, sweet and warm, his hands on my hips, finding the bare-skinned space under my shirt and just above my shorts.

My whole body tingled. I ran my hands through his hair, then they were on his face, pulling him closer to me.

I let my hand explore underneath his tracksuit top, feeling lean muscle and zero per cent body fat.

My mouth was aching when we stopped. Out of breath, we stared into each other’s eyes.

‘Holy shit,’ he said.

‘Sorry,’ I said on an exhale.

I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. Not that I regretted it. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to do it forever. It wasn’t like I made a habit of kissing boys I didn’t know. I’d barely kissed anyone. Like one other guy at some house party last year. But this just felt right.

‘Don’t apologize,’ he said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ve wanted that since I first saw you. Can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ I replied.

‘Why do you stay here? If you’re not getting game time? There are other clubs, ones where you’d get to play way more.’ He looked into my eyes, and I didn’t feel shame. There was no taking the piss, just genuine curiosity.

‘I really want to make the team,’ I said. ‘It’s like a challenge I’ve set myself. To see if I can make it this year. But it hasn’t worked out yet. I train so hard, but I just can’t seem to get off the bench.’ I ordered myself not to cry but I could feel pressure building behind my eyes.

He scanned my face, taking it in. ‘Can I help?’ Our faces were centimetres from each other. He wiped a rogue tear from my cheek with the sleeve of his top. ‘What about if I help you train?’

Something lifted.

‘You would do that?’ I couldn’t help smiling.

‘Yeah, I would. I mean, I don’t have that much free time, but what are you like with early mornings?’

‘Any time suits me. Literally any time.’ I tried not to sound too excited but I failed.

He pushed a bit of hair behind my ear. ‘OK, meet me at the club tomorrow, six a.m.?’

‘Saturday? Don’t you want to sleep in?’ I mean, I didn’t ever sleep in, but I assumed most people did. Niall didn’t get up until midday at the weekend. I felt a wave of heat rush through me as I thought about Shane in bed.

‘Ah no, I’m a morning person.’

‘Same. Oh, are you going to Zoe’s party?’

‘The redhead? Yeah, she text me about it actually; not sure how she got my number.’ He shrugged, and I tried to keep my face neutral, a desperate attempt at hiding the jealousy that was so strong it made me feel sick.

‘I’ll be there if you are,’ he said when I didn’t say anything.

It was the perfect answer. He reached down and threaded his fingers through mine, reigniting tiny fires in my veins.

I grinned. ‘I’ll be there. And I’ll be at the club tomorrow.’

He nodded. ‘Good.’

I moved so it was me against the wall. And this time I pulled him by his track top towards me and he kissed me again, slower. Our tongues in perfect sync. When I pulled away, I saw Shane glance towards the pitch where the boys had started to gather. ‘Are you staying to watch the match?’

‘Of course.’