Chapter 2
"Anyone who poops on my head is a monster in my book, but who am I to judge?"
Archie
Laughter and chatter boom through the locker rooms as my teammates and I gear up for the last match of the season.
It won’t change our third-place finish in the league, but we’re still determined to win.
I adjust my socks—one blue and one white—to unleash the power of the mismatched socks once again tonight.
Don’t laugh. It works. I always play better and concede fewer goals this way.
“Ready, lad?” Finn O’Leary asks, slapping my back as I stand up.
“You know it.” I bump his fist. “Clean sheet tonight.”
“I don’t expect anything less.” He grins as the door opens, and everyone quiets down. Francois Delatour, our manager, just entered the locker room. He’s wearing a dark blue suit over a pink shirt, a bright smile beaming on his face.
“Messieurs,” he bellows out, standing near the whiteboard. “Gather around.”
“Here we go,” Finn says. “Last speech of the season.”
“Wonder what he came up with this time,” mutters Cameron Bexley, one of our midfielders, as he steps up next to me.
Francois grabs his dry erase marker and starts to draw on the board. A circle with lines inside it takes shape, and we all stare back, puzzled. With a flourish, he turns towards us, expecting us to tell him what he just drew—as always.
We share clueless glances.
“It’s a ball?” suggests Wade Hunter, our captain.
Francois shakes his head, his brown eyes searching us.
“A melon?” I try, and everyone chuckles. It wouldn’t be that crazy, given the things Francois has scribbled on that board in the past.
What follows is a long list of fruits, veggies, or anything else with a round shape.
We make it to “coaster” before Francois finally blows out a breath and says, “It’s an onion, guys.
” He straightens his shoulders. “I’m talking about defence, of course, the most important element of our game today.
We can’t give our opponents anything. You need to be an onion.
They’ll try to get through you, but there’s always another layer waiting,” he says, drawing another line on the onion. “And another one.”
I press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing, avoiding Cameron’s and Finn’s eyes.
“And if they get too close,” Francois continues, “we make them cry. The more they try to penetrate, the more layers they encounter, and the more tears they shed. Got it? Be the onion, messieurs. Be strong and make them cry.”
“Yeah!” we all shout out, both relieved it’s over and buzzing for our last match. We bump fists, shake hands, and slap backs before heading to the tunnel where the kids are waiting to escort us onto the pitch—a football tradition.
“Hey,” I say to my kid, but my grin falters when I realise he’s on crutches. “What happened to you, bud?”
He shrugs. “Fell from a tree.”
“Woah,” I say, whistling. “You’re a real daredevil, aren’t you?”
“That’s what my mum always says.”
I chuckle. “I bet.” As they ask us to form a line, I lean toward him and say, “Hope you’ll still enjoy your summer.”
“Oh yeah.” He nods, adjusting his weight on his crutches. “Me and my mates are going wasp hunting—trying to find the biggest nests and see who can get closest without getting stung.”
I shoot him a wide-eyed glance, thinking he might be joking, but he’s dead serious. And here I’m scared to death of spiders. Maybe I should take a crash course with this kid before my trip to Uganda.
Our last match was a banger. We won two-nil with goals by Wade and Finn, plus several outstanding saves by yours truly.
As always, my friends and I head to my place for a round of drinks, our post-game tradition.
I have the pleasure of hosting since my flat is only a few minutes from the stadium—when you know the shortcut, that is.
I park in my designated spot before taking the elevator up. It stops at the lobby, and to my utmost displeasure, Katherine Lennox, my posh neighbour, saunters in beside me, immediately putting a damper on my victory buzz.
She acknowledges me with a pinched lip, then glances down at the Regents FC bag I’m hauling.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll be quiet,” I mutter, knowing what’s coming next.
She’ll whine that she has to wake up early and that we need to keep the noise down.
Then, an idea comes to mind. “Or not,” I add, a grin escaping.
“It was the last match of the season for us. A match we won, so you might want to use those earplugs I got you last Christmas.”
The door slides open, and I storm out, marching straight into my flat without awarding her another glance.
I’m tired of this woman. The guys and I don’t even talk that loud, and we never play music.
Not to mention the walls are thick in this place.
That’s why we pay such outrageous rent. Katherine is just one of those people who complains about everything. This trip is long overdue.
My phone rings as I step into my flat. It’s my mum.
“Hey! How is my boy?” she asks with her usual cheerful tone. “Great match tonight, Archie.”
“Thanks, Mum.” I drop my keys in the entryway bowl and kick off my trainers. “Nice to finish the season on a win.”
“Are you excited for your trip? You are still going, right?”
I rake a hand through my hair and lean against the counter. “I am. A bit nervous, since I’ve never done this kind of thing before, but it’ll be okay.”
“Of course it will. You’re a good man, and you’ll help so many people. I wish I could have done something like that when I was younger.”
A smile touches my lips. “I know.”
My mum would have been traveling the world if it hadn’t been for Noah and me. In fact, she wanted to be a flight attendant, but then she met my dad, and everything changed.
“But I get to live it all through my beautiful children. What better gift is there? Oh, speaking of,” she continues. “Have you received your suit for the wedding?”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. I swear, this wedding is all she talks about. Sure, I never expected my big bro to get married—like, ever. But still. “I got it.”
The doorbell rings, and I open the door for Finn.
“Listen, Mum, the guys are here, but I’ll try to give you a call when I get there, okay?”
“Okay, Archie. Have a safe trip.”
“Bye.” I hang up.
The rest of the guys quickly follow suit.
Next comes Millie, the team’s social media manager, who’s dating Callum Murray, one of our defenders.
She’s the only girl tonight. Fallon, Finn’s sister, never joins us after evening games.
And Wade, who usually comes with his wife, Roxy, went straight home to their three-month-old baby.
I grab an ice bucket of drinks and an armful of snacks, and we settle into the living room.
“I tell you, I’m not cross about the summer break,” Finn says, massaging his thighs. “Long overdue.”
“Agreed.” Cameron nods. “I’m catching a flight two days from now.”
“Going home?” Callum asks, an arm wrapped around Millie.
“Yeah, man. Can’t wait to say ‘tomato’ and ‘can’ properly without getting weird looks,” he says with an exaggerated American accent.
We all laugh.
“I mean, you’re free to speak however you want,” I say, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but it seems to have such an effect on you guys, I keep it to myself.”
We do like to tease our American boy.
“Maybe you should try it with women?” Finn suggests. “The accent, I mean. It’s probably exotic for the ladies. Maybe you’ll finally find the one after the one-thousand-five-hundred-and-forty-seventh attempt.”
Cameron just rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Your accent is way stronger than mine, and you’re still single.”
We all laugh at his dig.
“That’s because an Irish accent isn’t exotic here.” He winks. “Might have a better chance this summer in Greece.”
“What about you, Archie?” Millie turns to me with her usual bright smile. “Excited for your humanitarian mission in Uganda? It’s so great you’re doing that.”
“Thanks.” I rub the back of my neck. “Glad to be able to help—and get away from all of these blokes.” I nod at my teammates, and Finn throws a pillow at my head.
Cameron arches an eyebrow. “Hey, don’t pretend like you’re not going to miss us.”
“I definitely won’t,” I tease.
We keep chatting about our summer plans, and an hour later, Callum and Millie are the first to call it a night. Finn and Cameron follow suit.
“Time to get back home to the monster,” Callum says, standing up. He’s referring, of course, to his pet parrot, Fergie, with whom I have a complicated relationship.
“Oh, come on. He’s not a monster,” Millie says. “But yeah, you’d better go home. He always gets extra on match day.”
Anyone who poops on my head is a monster in my book, but who am I to judge?
“Will you even be able to go on vacation this summer?” Cameron asks them, standing up.
Millie shakes her head. “Probably not. Still haven’t found a sitter.”
“I can’t even imagine what a task that is,” I say. I was tempted—for about five seconds—to adopt a dog last year, and I know I made the right choice. My independence is too precious to give up.
“Well, have a safe trip,” she says, giving me a little wave.
“Try to make some content for your socials while you’re at it.
Fans would love that. Actually, that goes for all of you.
” She turns to Finn and Cameron. “Just because it’s the summer break doesn’t mean you can forget about your fans.
Social media is a twenty-four-seven job. ”
“Yes, we were at the briefing yesterday,” Finn teases. “Promise I’ll keep the world entertained from my poolside lounger.”
I roll my eyes, and we all say goodbye.
“Be good in Africa, lad,” Finn says, hugging me. “See you at the wedding.”
And just like that, they’re all out the door. Usually, I would feel a bit sad about the start of summer. I always thrive during the season, when we’re all steaming ahead at a hundred percent and we don’t have time to think. But this time, I’m excited to do something new.
Uganda, here I come.