Me: SOON. Go make out with Bauer or something.
Claire: How are you feeling? Is Jude being nice?
Me: Tired, but good. I puked in an Oxford trash can the other day, and you should’ve seen the faces of the people who passed me. One called me a “drunk American” under her breath. LOL.
Me: And yes. We’ve just been texting this week and last. He’s BUSY. Did you know football players can play 3+ matches in a week here? That’s friggin’ nuts!
Claire: OMG, ARE YOU CONVERTED NOW?
Me: I’m just … learning. But it’s not as bad as I thought. It’s kinda hypnotizing to watch. Plus … Have you SEEN their thighs??
Claire: No, but you sure have.
Me: DAMN RIGHT. <3
Isabel: Claire said something weird today about you not being able to do kickboxing class when you come home. Then she made her weird ‘I’m hiding something’ face.
Isabel: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.
Me: I’ll call soon! Sorry, it’s been crazy here. Love you. Mwah.
Isabel: Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Can I still come and visit before you leave? I need a reason to take a vacation.
Me: Yes. Talk soon. <3
* * *
Paige: WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING YOUR CALLS, DUDE
Me: YOU ALWAYS CALL WHEN I’M BUSY. Does everyone in our family have their phone on caps lock or something?
Paige: Sorry. I miss you. I miss your voice. When are you coming home? Haven’t you gotten enough knowledge yet?
Me: You have three other sisters to pester. And Emmett. Go bug them.
Paige: I love you too, L.
Me: <3
* * *
Jude: Care to come to a match this weekend?
Me: Like … in person? In the stands with all the crazy screaming fans?
Jude: That’s the general idea. I could give you a pass if you’d rather sit in a box.
Me: No way. I love the crazy screaming fans. I never wanted Logan’s box passes either. Box seats are for pansies.
Jude: That a girl. I’ll put the tickets under your name at the window by the main entrance. Make sure you wear blue and white; otherwise, they’ll make you switch seats because they’ll think you’re a Bethnal Green fan. Trust me, you don’t want that. They’re wankers.
Me: You cannot be serious.
Jude: I would never joke about it. They don’t mix home and away fans.
Me: Y’all are crazy.
Jude: I’ll see you afterward.
Me: <3
Me: SHIT, sorry, didn’t mean to send you a heart. I do that with my sisters and Paige and … sorry. Awkward.
Jude: No worries.
Jude: <3 (It took me a really long time to figure out how you did that)
JUDE
“You seemed frustrated out there, Jude. What did you want more of today that you weren’t getting?”
What I wanted was to smack the microphone out of my face, but I smiled at the journo. “A bit more of everything, I suppose. We were outplayed, and there’s no pretty way to say that. They passed better, defended better, scored more. Makes it hard to win.”
“Do you think Shepperton can pull themselves together once the break is done? Or do you need to see some changes on the roster when the transfer window opens? There’s talk that management is eyeing some younger talent heading into the rest of the season.”
I kept that smile pasted on my face until it hurt. “I think we’ve got a great team right now. We’ve just got to communicate better when it counts. If the management makes some changes this winter, then I trust they’ll do what’s best for the club.” I nodded, then started edging toward the door of the room. “Thanks.”
He wanted to ask more, it was obvious, but honestly, I wasn’t much in the mood for talking.
It was a shit game in shit weather, and all I wanted to do was take a hot shower.
Everything had set up perfectly in the eighty-ninth minute when I got the ball and had a free stretch to run.
But instead of a win, instead of a draw, we went in the wrong direction. That Bethnal Green keeper was a lucky bastard because the one finger he’d gotten on the ball was enough to keep us from a draw. They got three points and moved ahead of Arsenal on the table. We stayed where we were. Like a bloody car that couldn’t get out of neutral.
I left the press room and hooked a right toward the showers. One of my newer teammates, an acquisition from Paris St Germain, murmured something in French as he passed. It sounded an awful lot like he was calling me a name that I never would’ve dared to repeat in front of Mrs. Atkinson. Declan exited another press area and lifted his chin.
“You looked like shit today, McAllister.”
I gave him a look. “How in the bloody hell they decided you should be captain is beyond me.”
“Because I’m not going to tiptoe around your ego to make you feel better.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can admit where I fucked up today. Can you?” When I didn’t answer, he lowered his voice. “You had someone right behind you who could’ve taken the ball, could’ve come at the goal from the side, and instead, you went for the glory shot. It’s not always your job to save the day just because you’re trying to prove you can still play.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I get a perfect shot,” I said dryly.
“If you get the shot, then take it. But that wasn’t it. You were too far away from the goal, you didn’t have the right angle, and you were running too fast to bend it the way you would’ve needed. But if you’d passed to Sebastien, he would’ve had it.”
Pride had me wanting to defend myself, and I fairly choked on the words as I swallowed them back down. “Is that why he’s calling me names?”
“Probably.” His eyes never wavered. “Pull your head out of your arse, Jude. I mean it.”
His words rang in my head while I showered and changed. None of my teammates talked to me, all murmuring quietly after the dejection of another loss when we really needed a win.
In the quiet of the locker room, the heavy weight of a loss felt like all the balls I’d kept juggled in the air were falling one by one.
Maybe it was like this for other players, but I’d never ask. For me, losing felt like unleashing a screaming banshee that tailed behind me until our next game. All I could hear were the things my parents had warned me about when I was an eighteen-year-old, giving up my life to play in Germany.
Why can’t you just be content with a normal life?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.