Take Her On

Chapter One

Maya

The screech of brakes outside forced Maya to sit upright. A roaring rumble spluttered and huffed to a halt, and then came the slamming of doors. The day she’d been dreading had finally arrived.

She flung the duvet off her bed and scrambled to the window, knocking her shin on a pile of books as she went. She should have unpacked properly, instead of leaving her belongings crowding the floor, but—well, she’d had bigger things to worry about. She nudged the books into a disorganised pile as they fanned across the faded carpet and pulled herself up at the windowsill. The new family was moving in across the street, and she had to know who it was.

Maya wasn’t like most of her course-mates. They were the type of people who spent their summer break hanging out with their friends, going shopping at the Westside, and making the most of the fading English sun. They’d lounge about on their significant other for hours, kissing and fucking, plaiting each other’s hair, doing whatever else people in relationships did. Maya wouldn’t know—she’d never had one.

Not officially, anyway.

She’d had her fair share of hook-ups, courtesy of her favourite pub on campus, but no, Maya spent most of her time torturing herself over her unreciprocated love for her unfairly beautiful, straight best friend.

Pretty pathetic, to be honest.

Living across from her best friend had been an absolute dream when they were kids, but adult life was a different story. With Carly spending most of her time with her new buddy Zeek, and the various commitments sport degrees had placed on them both, the distance between them was only becoming more obvious. Especially now. Carly Walter had taken all of Maya’s stupid, hopeless love with her when she, along with the rest of the Walters, moved house two weeks ago .

The notion that her twenties were supposed to be the best time of Maya’s life left a lot to be desired. She knew they were good for some people: the Carlys, the Zeeks, the caramel-frappé soy-milk drinkers who roll out of bed with impeccable hair and fresh breath.

But what about her?

It felt like Maya had been left in a forgotten corner of the basement, where a small, unrelenting ecosystem of sadness had slowly taken root.

Parting the navy blue curtains with her fingertips, she flinched against the sunlight streaming through the window. She didn’t even know what time it was, but judging by the height of the sun in the sky, it was much too early for a Saturday.

Downstairs, the hum of the TV drifted up through the floorboards, along with the sound of cutlery and plates being scraped together—and the buzz of a one-sided conversation. Maya didn’t care enough to try and eavesdrop at the top of the stairs this time.

Grandma always spoke too loud on the phone, anyway. She was no doubt updating her friends about Grandpa’s condition or fretting over Maya’s lack of socialising this summer. It sure beat her mother riding her high horse around the kitchen counter, though. Maya wasn’t looking forward to her returning from her work trip.

She sighed. She’d known moving back would be hard as an adult—her grandma’s probing questions and her mother’s lingering shadow made her feel like a little kid again. Adjusting to the dynamic was proving much more difficult than she’d imagined, but when her grandpa got sick, she hadn’t seen another option. Her grandparents needed her.

The slam of a car door drew her attention. A middle-aged man and woman emerged from the black BMW parked on the drive opposite. Maya snorted, her breath fogging the glass. Must be out-of-towners. They looked far too happy to have just moved to a boring street in the middle of nowhere.

This is who is replacing Carly?

Maya knew her curiosity about the new inhabitants bordered on obsessive, but she couldn’t help it. It felt wrong somehow. That complete strangers were going to occupy the Walters’ spaces. Sit and eat and sleep where they did—where she and Carly had so many times. Mr Walter had even put a football net in their back garden, as it was much bigger than her grandparents’. Maya and Carly would take it in turns to blast a football at him, trying to replicate professional footballer celebrations when the ball soared into the string netting. It had been a long time since they’d played like that.

They’d grown out of it; Carly had, at least.

Two burly movers jumped out of the van at the front, and the woman directed the boxes in through their shiny blue door. The man wrapped his arm around her waist, as if to say, “Look, hun, we finally made it.”

The woman didn’t reciprocate the man’s enthusiasm, Maya noted, as she shrugged off his touch. Maybe she’s just realised they’ve moved to the armpit of the countryside. Regrets.

The only good thing about this place were Millton’s sports connections. Maya’s childhood team, Millton City FC, were competing for promotion again this season, but with her final year of university commitments, she wasn’t sure how often she’d be able to attend.

The Millton University campus was a twenty-minute train ride out of the town into open countryside. Even though it was in the middle of nowhere, it was one of the best sports universities in the country—the university’s connections to sports clubs and other organisations were second to none—so it wasn’t a hard decision to stay in Millton to study there. It had everything students needed: their lectures close by, accommodation, and a handful of places that supplied cheap booze. A lot of people from Maya’s high school had ventured elsewhere, but she was just relieved that Carly had studied dance there too.

Maybe I should listen to Hannah and tell Carly how I feel before anything else changes.

Another slammed door brought Maya out of her thoughts. A dark blue VW Golf had materialised out of nowhere, its two front tyres parked carelessly on the kerb.

Another new neighbour?

She struggled to see the driver through the glare of the sunshine, so she shifted her stance, arching her neck as the mystery person strolled over to the van. The walk was familiar somehow. She itched at the sides of her mind to place where she’d seen it.

Maybe it was someone local, after all. Maybe someone from school or—

Then the woman turned, and all the pieces slammed together.

“Fuck,” Maya exhaled, breath fogging the window. She wiped at it with her sleeve, pressing her head closer to verify the sighting. It was definitely her. If her short blonde hair didn’t give her away—styled in that annoying, perfectly imperfect way—her red jacket certainly did.

Maya’s eyes narrowed at the sight. It was the same red of the Harriers—their university rivals. Maya’s university team had always come second to the Harriers: the arrogant, ruthless pains in her arse for the last three years. They’d been the only thing standing in the way of Maya finally leading her team to championship victory, and this year, her final year of university, was her last chance. She’d trained hard all summer, bothering Coach with her tactics and theories over email…and now the Harriers’ star striker was moving across the street.

Her head clunked against the glass, nostrils flaring as she watched Jamie Mellor swagger towards the house, a large cardboard box balanced in her arms.

And now she was her neighbour. Carly’s replacement.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Unless…

Maya smeared her sleeve across the window again, knowing Mum would scold her later for leaving marks on the glass. She waited, trying to ignore her stupid reflection and the look of disbelief painted across her face.

Jamie, or someone who looked unbelievably like Jamie—maybe she has a twin?—jogged out the door, throwing a comment towards one of the burly movers that made him laugh.

Maya narrowed her eyes even more, feeling the strain running along the bottom of her jaw. Maybe she was just helping some people move? Some random couple who was twice her age? Right?

Before she could try to convince herself of this poorly constructed thought, or revisit the twin theory, those two blue eyes lifted and met hers.

She stumbled backwards, tripping over her laptop cable and crashing into the door. Her lamp fell on top of her, followed by a jar of pens. Ouch.

“Maya?” Grandma called from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you alright?”

She took a moment to assess the damage. Nothing was broken, her room was a mess—but what’s new?—and Jamie Mellor had just caught her spying on her through a gap in the curtains.

“I’m fine,” Maya shouted back, catching her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look fine. Her brown eyes looked tired and puffy as if they hadn’t seen a full night’s sleep in ages, and her dark hair was a tangled nest, matted and messy from sleep. She brushed her cold hands over her face, returned the lamp to the side table, and gathered the pens that littered the floor.

An old photo of herself and Carly had untacked itself from the mirror. Maya picked it up off the carpet, eyes lingering on their matching smiles, before carefully sticking it back into place. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d laughed like that.

“Maya!” Grandma called again. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please! Down in a minute.”

Being back home definitely brought its problems, but Grandma made the absolute best cups of tea. And a great cup of tea could solve almost anything.

Maybe even the dread that was seeping its way into Maya’s gut.

Playing centre-back, Maya was always stuck marking Jamie. Flashbacks of the past few years blinked behind her eyelids. The teasing, taunting comments that got under her skin, the crushing feeling of losing to her year after year. How easily Jamie had bypassed her to score the winning goal last season.

“Thank you for making that so easy.”

Jamie had wrestled Maya off the ball, literally sitting her down on the turf after outplaying her, to slot the winning goal into the net.

The egotistical woman even had the cheek to blow Maya a kiss as they lifted the trophy. The memory made her seethe.

Once everything was back where it belonged, she crept towards the window and peered out into the street. No one was there. No blonde-haired striker putting the ball through her legs and leaving her on her arse.

But the sick feeling lingered in Maya’s gut, promising trouble on the horizon.