Chapter 7 #2
A figure leaned over, haloed by the harsh white glow, and for a heartbeat - a single, disorienting second where reality felt slippery - I could have sworn it was Kai.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
…It was Kai’s voice.
A second passed, and I genuinely wondered if I was dreaming.
The world, which had been spinning in slow, nauseating circles, suddenly snapped back into place. The disorientation felt like minutes, but in actual fact had only been a few seconds.
“Oh,” I managed, pushing myself upright. A sharp sting pulsed at the back of my skull, and when I looked down, the mess registered - egg smeared across my shirt, dripping onto the floor. “I’ll be alright. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“It’s okay. I should be the one apologising. You’re covered in egg.” He extended a hand toward me, steady and open.
I stared at it for a beat too long, caught between embarrassment and a strange, unwelcome curiosity about what it would feel like to take it.
Why was I even thinking like that?
Still, I slipped my hand into his.
He pulled me up in one smooth, effortless motion.
His arm tensed with the movement, muscles shifting beneath the fabric of his short-sleeved school shirt, veins standing out along his forearm.
It was the kind of detail my brain shouldn’t have noticed, especially not right now, but the fall must have rattled something loose.
He was… attractive.
Even more so outside of school.
The thought startled me, sharp and intrusive.
What was I talking about?
Maybe I really had hit my head harder than I thought.
“Thanks,” I said quietly. Now that I was upright, gravity decided to betray me - a slow ribbon of egg slid from my hairline and tracked down my cheek.
“Here, let me help.” Concern flickered across Kai’s face as he grabbed a roll of kitchen towel from the shelf, tore it open, and started dabbing at me with surprising gentleness.
“That’s really not necessary,” I said, stepping back instinctively. He paused, reading the hesitation, then tore off a few sheets and held them out instead.
“Come on. I feel bad.”
I took them quickly, avoiding the sharpness of his gaze. “Thanks,” I muttered again, feeling heat creep up my cheeks.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, with something that mirrored concern in his eyes.
Why was he asking if I was okay?
Guys like him didn’t help guys like me. And they certainly didn’t care.
I nodded, though my head still throbbed. He studied me for a moment, the bright white lights catching in his blond hair, outlining the angles of his face like someone had carved them with intention. Then he smiled - small, but warm enough to make my stomach twist.
“Good,” he said, and for a moment I thought that was it - the natural end of the conversation. He shifted his weight like he was about to step back, maybe toss out a casual see you later and disappear down the aisle. But then he did the strangest, almost endearing thing.
He opened his mouth again.
“So this is why you couldn’t do today?” He pointed at my uniform.
My brows pulled together. “Do what?”
“For the assignment.” He laughed softly. “You’re a bit of a goldfish, aren’t you?”
“A goldfish?” I echoed, giving up on trying to scrub the egg out of my shirt. At least my face was clean. That was something.
“Yeah. They don’t have the best memory. Someone said it to me once.” He paused, then ran a hand through his hair, wincing. “Sorry - was that rude? That was rude, right? I promise I didn’t mean it as a bad thing…”
“It’s okay,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I know what you mean. Rach calls me an airhead sometimes. Never been called a goldfish before, though.”
“No, I don’t suppose you have.” He chuckled, the sound low and warm, like he genuinely found the idea amusing.
And then he did it again - that strange little hesitation.
He glanced away as if preparing to leave, but his feet stayed planted, his body angled toward me like he wasn’t quite ready to break whatever this was.
“Did you need help finding something, or…?” I asked, shifting my weight, suddenly hyper-aware of the egg drying on my shirt.
“Funnily enough, I was looking for eggs.” He gestured to the crate beside us, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth.
“Well, you found them,” I said, laughing under my breath. I grabbed a box from the crate, checked for cracks, and handed it to him.
He took it, fingers brushing mine for the briefest second. His green eyes caught the overhead lights and seemed to spark. “Thanks.”
Alfie rounded the corner, eyes widening the moment he saw me. “Alex, what happened? I asked you to put the eggs out, not cover yourself in them.” He shook his head.
“I-”
“It was my fault,” Kai cut in smoothly, stepping forward before I could finish. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Then he turned and his expression shifted the moment his gaze landed on Alfie. His posture straightened, shoulders squaring, something sharp flickering behind his eyes.
“Oh,” Kai said, voice dropping a fraction. “It’s you .”
“What, you two know each other?” I asked, glancing between them.
“Unfortunately,” Kai replied, not bothering to hide the disdain.
“Not looking where you’re going is a specialty for you, right, Kai?” Alfie said, his tone deceptively light but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Blind in real life as well as on the pitch.”
Kai’s smile didn’t falter - if anything, it sharpened, like he’d been waiting for Alfie to hand him that opening.
“Blind?” Kai echoed, a soft, incredulous laugh slipping out. “Funny coming from someone who missed - what was it? Two rounds of penalties last season? Would’ve thought you were aiming for the crowd, lad, with that aim.”
“It was raining. My shot was off,” Alfie snapped back, jaw tightening.
“Oh, please.” Kai’s smile widened, all teeth and amusement, the kind that wasn’t friendly at all. “It could’ve been pitch black with the ball and goal covered in glow-in-the-dark paint and you still would’ve missed it.”
The air between them tightened - not loud, not explosive, but sharp, like the moment before a storm breaks. They weren’t just trading insults. There was history here, something bruised and unfinished, and I could feel it humming between them like static.
And I was standing right in the middle of it, dripping in egg.
“Like you missed against Burnswick,” Alfie shot back, not missing a beat. “Yeah, I heard about that one. What was it - 2:1?”
Kai’s jaw ticked, but the smirk stayed. “Still won the league though, didn’t we? More than you can say. How long did you last again?”
Before Alfie could respond, footsteps echoed down the aisle. Callum appeared, scanning the aisles like he was searching for someone. The moment he spotted Kai, his posture shifted - relief, urgency, something in between - and he strode toward us.
“There you are, Cap. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.
” Callum’s voice carried down the aisle before he even reached us.
Then his eyes landed on Alfie, and his expression soured instantly.
“What’s a Westley wanker doing this side of Belrose-” His gaze slid to me, and he blinked.
“And why is Alex Taylor covered in egg?”
The nickname - Cap - hit the air like a small explosion.
Captain. I’d known that already, but hearing Callum say it out loud made my stomach flutter.
I didn’t even know why. Maybe because Kai Fields actually meant something - he had a name, a direction, a future.
He was building himself into someone, and I wanted that so desperately it almost hurt.
But then I looked down at the egg still dripping down my shirt, and the reminder of what I actually was made my cheeks burn all over again.
“He works here, lad,” Kai said, sounding far too amused for someone who’d just insulted Alfie to his face. “But the egg thing is my fault.” He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry again.” His eyes flicked to mine, sincere in a way that made my stomach twist.
“It’s really okay,” I said, shifting awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow me or at least provide a towel.
“No, it’s not,” Alfie cut in, stepping forward. “You need to get out before I throw you out” He jabbed a finger toward the exit, voice sharp enough to slice through the air.
“I’d like to see you try,” Kai said with a laugh.
“It was just an accident,” I said quickly, but Alfie didn’t even look at me - his eyes were locked on Kai, like he was daring him to argue.
“Accident my ass,” Alfie tutted, craning his neck up to look at Kai. He wasn’t much taller, an inch or so, but with his build, Alfie looked small even.
“You weren’t even here,” Kai shot back.
“I don’t have to have been. I’ve seen you tackle enough people on the pitch to know that’s how you handle things.” Alfie glared, puffing his chest.
“Been on the receiving end as well, haven’t ya,” Callum said with a laugh.
“I wouldn’t brag about playing dirty.” Alfie snapped.
“You think that’s playing dirty? How about you come outside and I’ll teach you a bit about that.” Callum’s eyes narrowed in on his, stepping between them both.
I didn’t know much about Callum, but just looking at him, I could tell he could handle himself.
Somehow, every player on the football team looked as though they had been born with muscles and height.
And yet here Alfie was, standing there like he wasn’t afraid of either of them.
If anything, he looked like he wanted this - like he was trying to drag them into something.
Then again, Alfie was blessed with the same athletic build.
My fingers twisted at my sleeves.
Was this going to turn into a real fight?
I found myself taking a few steps back without even thinking. I didn’t want to be anywhere near whatever this was turning into.
Kai’s jaw was tight, his whole posture coiled like he was ready to move. But then his eyes flicked to mine - just for a second - and something in him shifted. It was like he read exactly what I was feeling. Like he could see the panic I was trying to hide.
His jaw loosened, fists unclenched, shoulders dropping a fraction.
“Stop, Callum,” he said, putting a steadying hand on his friend’s shoulder. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of us. He’s not worth getting arrested over.”
“Yeah?” Callum asked, still glaring at Alfie, like he needed permission to stand down.
“Yeah. Save it for the pitch. We’ll batter him then.” Kai said to Callum, though he was glaring at Alfie, who rolled his eyes.
“You got it, Cap,” Callum said through gritted teeth, his fists still clenched. “Count yourself lucky!” He sneered at Alfie.
“Yeah, you better go,” Alfie piped up, but neither of them even looked at him. They just lifted their middle fingers in perfect sync as they walked off.
Kai glanced back at me.
And his whole expression softened - the tension melting into something quieter, something almost warm. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, knowing curve. A silent see you later .
Then he turned and walked away.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Alfie said, guiding me toward the staff toilets with a hand firm on my shoulder.
“What are you doing talking to Kai Fields anyway? You’re not friends with him, are you?
” It came across kind of like an interrogation.
And for a moment, I just looked at him wondering what his deal was.
I had never seen this side of him. But I knew him better than I knew Kai.
At least, I thought I did anyway.
Finally, I shook my head. “I just sit next to him in history.”
“You’d do well to stay away from him. Guys like that are bad news.” His hand tightened slightly, like he was trying to steer me away from something I couldn’t see.
I nodded, because it was easier than arguing.
I knew guys who were bad news. They’d been drifting in and out of my house for most of my life. And something told me Kai wasn’t like that.
Not even close.
But I wasn’t about to say anything. Not with Alfie’s hand still on my shoulder, not with the echo of Kai’s see you later still warm in my mind, and not with the strange, heavy tension that had settled between the two of them like a storm cloud waiting to break.
So I just kept my head down.