Chapter 3
THEO - SIXTEEN YEARS OLD
“Pass!” I yell out to the field.
I’m standing in goal, getting more and more frustrated by my teammates’ stupidity. I’m too far away to do anything other than shout. “Pass the fucking ball!”
I can’t even remember most of their names. Since moving to Surrey and starting sixth form, no one’s really bothered to talk to me—until now, and that’s only because they were short on players.
There’s a dude wide open to the left of the field, yet the one with the ball still isn’t passing. I come off the goal line to get a better view. He finally passes, but not to the dude who’s open. Nope, he passes to Bailey—one of the two names I actually remember—who is currently being marked.
I made sure to remember which of the Townsend twins was which when I was introduced to them so I’d know who was on my team.
Bailey has a blue T-shirt, while his brother Shane is in white, but other than that they’re fully identical.
Same height, same ice-blue eyes, even the same shade of blonde hair.
Bailey dribbles away from the person marking him before some fancy footwork takes him around two more, only to get slammed into by his brother.
I suck in a breath, watching as Shane jabs his elbow into Bailey’s ribs, stealing the ball out from under him.
Bailey’s quick; turning on his heel, he tackles Shane from behind.
The ball is under Bailey’s foot, and he drags it backwards almost free.
I look up just in time to see Shane rear his head back—straight into Bailey’s nose.
It feels like a bucket of cold water is tipped over my head when I see Bailey collapse to the ground. Everyone goes quiet as we wait for him to get up.
Bailey doesn’t move.
I run to him, abandoning the goal. He’s awake, but a little stunned, I think. There’s blood gushing from his nose and Shane’s bending over him, whispering something and holding a hand out to help him up, but Bailey flinches away.
“Hey, back off,” I growl, shoving Shane’s chest.
“It was a little tap; he’s fine,” he says, pushing me back.
“Fuck off. I watched you headbutt him.”
“It was an accident; he got too close. I barely got him; he’s just a dramatic bleeder.”
I look down at Bailey as he wipes his bloody nose with a shaking hand. He looks at Shane with a scowl, then looks at me, and I see his eyes are wet with tears. I hold my hand out. He stares at it for a moment before grabbing hold, letting me pull him up. “You okay?” I ask.
Bailey looks between Shane and me, frowns, then turns and runs to the tree line before disappearing into the woods.
“Hey! The game isn’t finished, Bailey,” Shane shouts.
“Yes it is, leave him alone,” I say, grabbing his arm. He shakes me off and walks towards the woods.
I know I shouldn’t be putting myself between brothers, but I shove Shane in the back anyway. “Something wrong with your hearing?”
He rights himself and slowly turns towards me, nose flaring, jaw clenched tight.
“Why the fuck are you getting involved?” He steps forward, bumping his chest against mine.
I refuse to move. We’re almost nose to nose; a wicked grin plays on his lips.
“What’s it to you, anyway?” He grabs my shirt. “Do you like him?”
Warmth spreads to my cheeks, and he chuckles.
“Is that what all of this is about? What about me, Theo? Do I make you har—”
I don’t let him finish his sentence. I throw my head forward, but he moves at the last second. A sharp pain shoots through my head as I catch him in the mouth.
“Fuck!” he growls, releasing my shirt.
I run before he can grab me again, my legs carrying me into the woods as fast as they can. Eventually, the path splits off into different directions. I have no idea which way Bailey went. I look behind me and hold my breath, trying to hear if anyone is chasing after me, but it’s completely silent.
Picking a random path, I start running again, the cold October air burning my lungs and prickling the tips of my ears. The smell of damp leaves and musty soil permeates the air, growing stronger the deeper I get into the woods.
I slow down and take stock of my surroundings. The trickling sound of water draws my attention to a stream running through the trees, lined with large moss-covered rocks. The ground’s muddier and the trees denser, blocking out the last of the setting sun.
I walk towards the water, feet slipping as I go.
I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me.
Goosebumps rise on the back of my neck and I turn around to check I’m definitely alone.
Something wet drips down my face and I wipe it away.
When I look at my hand, I realise I’m bleeding, and groan to myself—I’m never going to be able to hide this from my parents.
I kneel by the stream, pulling my phone from my pocket, opening the front camera and inspecting the bloody mess I’ve made of my face.
There’s a cut on my forehead where I must have caught Shane’s tooth.
The water is freezing as I scoop it up to wash my face. I doubt the water is sanitary, so I try to avoid the cut and just wash the blood dripping down my nose.
A twig breaks and my head snaps up, heart racing as I frantically search the trees. Quickly standing, I use my T-shirt to dry my face, then turn on my phone’s torch.
“Fuck off Shane, I have nothing left to say to you!” I shout.
Another twig cracks as something moves closer.
“I told you, I—” My torch illuminates a blue T-shirt. “Bailey?” I say quietly.
He takes a small step towards me, squinting against the light. Jesus—his face is even more messed up than mine, with a swollen nose and mouth stained red with blood.
I ease forward, my hands having a mind of their own as they reach up to pinch his chin.
I turn his head left, then right, checking whether his nose is broken.
He flinches, and heat rushes to my cheeks.
I don’t even know him and I’m cradling his face like I have the right to.
I drop my hands as though I’ve touched an open flame.
“Sorry,” I mutter. His arms wrap around his middle, silently staring off to the side.
I frown at him, confused why he’s not talking. “Are you okay?”
He swallows before opening his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
I look around, unsure what to do with him.
I can’t just leave him alone in the woods.
“Do you want help cleaning up?” I ask. He sways a little, and I watch him carefully, worried he’s close to fainting.
A crease forms in his brow, then he finally looks at me, giving a small nod.
Okay then ... I pull his arm from around his middle and guide him to the water.
“Sit here,” I say, nodding to one of the rocks.
“Lean over a bit.” He sits, following my directions, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.
With nothing to clean him up, I take off my T-shirt and plunge it into the water, wring it out, then gently press it to his nose.
He closes his eyes, lets out a little sigh, and relaxes his shoulders.
I wipe away the blood that’s crusted over his mouth while staring at his face.
He’s so determined to avoid looking at me that I have time to get a proper look.
A breeze blows his blonde hair, a few strands sticking to his wet cheeks.
Without thinking, I lean forward and brush the strands away, revealing a dusting of freckles.
He sucks in a breath and his eyes dart up, locking onto mine.
I stare into the rings of gold surrounding his pupils, watching how they blend into the blue.
I’m held captive by them as they glisten in the torchlight.
I cough, and drag my eyes away from his. “You’re alright,” I say. “It’s not broken, but it’ll bruise like a bitch.”
Turning away from him, I wash the shirt out in the stream.
“Um, the water … I’m not sure how clean it is, but if you want, you can come back to mine, and I can look in my ma’s first aid kit,” I say, standing and dusting off my trousers.
“I need to clean myself up too, so we can help each other.” I point to the cut on my forehead that’s thankfully stopped bleeding.
He climbs off the rock slowly, and comes to stand next to me. I give him a lopsided grin. “I’m Theo, by the way.”