Chapter 8 #2
I didn’t look at Alex right away. I kept my eyes on Alfie, because turning my back on him felt like giving him an opening - and I knew him well enough to know he’d take it.
“Unfortunately,” I said, letting the word land with the weight it deserved.
Alfie’s jaw twitched. Good. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Not looking where you’re going is a specialty for you, right, Kai? Blind in real life as well as on the pitch.” Alfie’s voice had that cocky little lilt that always made my blood heat in the worst way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alex watching us, trying to piece together something he had no context for. And suddenly I hated that he was seeing this part - the part of me that bristled, the part that rose to Alfie like it was instinct.
I didn’t want him thinking this was normal. I didn’t want him thinking I was like this with everyone.
But Alfie Preston had a way of dragging the worst out of me, and he always had. The worst in, well, everyone. And there was no way in hell I was letting him get away with talking to me like that.
“Blind?” I echoed, letting a slow, incredulous laugh slip out. “Funny coming from someone who missed - what was it? Two rounds of penalties last season?”
I didn’t even have to think about the comeback. It was muscle memory.
Alfie just whined, blaming the rain for his awful shot, like the world owed him a do-over.
It was barely spitting.
He just missed.
And the thing about Alfie Preston was that he never admitted to anything. There was always an excuse, always a reason he wasn’t at fault. Always the victim in his own story.
People like that made my fists clench. And I wasn’t much of a fighter.
I trained a lot, sure, and I could handle myself if I needed to.
The boxing bag at home took most of the hits I didn’t want to give to real people.
But I’d always been taught to keep it on the pitch.
Win with your feet, not your fists. That was what my dad used to say.
“Oh, please. 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.” I said with a laugh, I knew would get under his skin.
“Like you missed at Burnswick last season.” Quick. I’ll give him that.
That prick.
Burnswick was the one game we lost last season. One. Fred had the flu, so we had Anderson sub in as goalie, and it threw the whole back line off. We still played well considering, kept our heads, didn’t let it derail the rest of the season.
I hated how much this guy ticked me off. How he got under my skin so easily. I could feel the way my jaw tensed, the way my teeth pressed together, and I hated it - hated that he could pull that reaction out of me with just a few smug words.
“There you are, Cap. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Thank fuck Callum was here.
It didn’t take long for him to square up beside me, like he was gearing up for a fight too.
That was one thing I could always count on with Callum - he had my back.
Always. And he was always ready to start swinging.
And I was close to it too, but that’s when I saw Alex take a few steps back - quiet, tense, like he wanted to melt into the ground.
Guilt struck me hard in the chest again.
I didn’t want him caught in this. Didn’t want him thinking this was normal.
Didn’t want him thinking I was some violent idiot who solved everything with fists.
And the way his eyes widened… He almost looked scared.
That hit harder than anything Alfie could’ve said.
What were we doing?
Alfie had us exactly where he wanted us - rising to his bait, letting him pull the strings. He thrived on this. Stirring things up, watching people snap. And we’d walked right into it again.
Nah. This wasn’t on.
Not with Alex standing there, sleeves pulled over his hands, looking like he’d rather sink into the floor than watch us square up. Not when I could feel his discomfort like a physical thing.
My fists loosened. My jaw unclenched. The heat in my chest cooled just enough for me to think straight.
This wasn’t worth it. Not the fight. Not the scene. Not the way Alex looked at me like he wasn’t sure who I was in that moment.
I wasn’t going to let Alfie drag me into something stupid. Not today. Not in front of him.
“Stop, Callum.” My hand landed on his shoulder, steady.
He looked at me, surprised for a second, like he wasn’t sure whether I actually meant it. Then he finally stood down. Thank God.
Alfie piped up as we walked away, and Callum did a damn good job of biting his tongue - but neither of us even glanced at him. We just lifted our middle fingers in perfect sync as we kept walking.
Before I turned away completely, I glanced back at Alex.
And my whole expression softened - I couldn’t help it. The tension melted into something quieter, something almost warm. The corner of my mouth lifted in a small, knowing curve.
I took a mental note of him - the way his big brown eyes were fixed on me. For some reason, I wanted to remember him, to hold onto that look. And I was already counting down the seconds until I could see him again.
When his eyes sparkled back at mine, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding. He wasn’t annoyed. He wasn’t afraid. He was just Alex, which was exactly what I needed him to be. I just hoped he wouldn’t go back to the shy boy who didn’t want to talk to me.
“Fuck,” Callum shouted when the cool breeze hit our cheeks. “Why does he always get us like that?!”
“’Cos he’s a prick,” I said, unlocking my car. “Fucking Prick Preston.”
“I should’ve decked him then and there.” Callum’s fists balled again, his face going red.
I shot him a look. “No, you shouldn’t have. Then you really would’ve been going home in blues and twos - with a shiny pair of handcuffs.” A smirk tugged at my mouth.
Callum huffed, kicking a loose stone across the car park. “He winds me up, man. Every time.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sympathised. “He does the same to me.”
“Makes my blood fucking boil.” He ripped a cigarette from the box and shoved it between his lips.
I leaned back against my car, breathing in the cool air. “I know. Just save that feeling for the pitch. We’ll ruin him, mate.”
“Can’t bleeding wait.” Smoke curled from his mouth, drifting into the afternoon air.
He cracked his knuckles, pacing like he was already imagining it - adrenaline still fizzing under his skin.
“If it isn’t Callum Cooper.” A voice called out from beside us.
It was Amanda in her beige Fiat, Cassie in the passenger seat beside her.
Amanda’s blonde hair was scraped up into a messy bun, white denim jacket on, looking like she’d stepped straight out of a sixth-form fashion ad.
Cassie was applying lipstick in the dash mirror, barely glancing our way, looking bored at Callum like she’d seen this whole performance before.
“And Kai Fields,” Amanda added, blue eyes flicking to me.
I gave her a nod.
Callum, of course, switched gears instantly - all that leftover fury from Alfie evaporating like it had never existed. He leaned an elbow on my car roof, posture loosening, voice dropping into that smooth tone he used when girls were around.
“Alright, Mands,” he echoed, flashing her a grin. “You’re looking fine this evening.” He winked.
Amanda rolled her eyes, but she smiled too - the kind of smile that said she wasn’t taking him seriously, but she wasn’t offended either.
“Is that a new eyeshadow?” Callum added, leaning in like he actually knew what he was talking about.
Cassie snapped her lipstick shut. “What do you know about eyeshadow?”
“I have three sisters,” Callum shot back, like it was a badge of honour.
Amanda giggled. “It is actually. Well, I’ve had it a while, but it’s the first time I’ve worn it.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. “You never cease to surprise me, Cooper.”
“What can I say? I’m a surprising guy. Full of them.”
He said it with that stupid grin - the one that always worked on people who didn’t know him as well as I did. He called me a charmer half the time, but this was what he was like on a daily basis.
I leaned against my car, letting the scene play out. Callum could switch from ready-to-fight to flirt-mode in under a second. It was honestly impressive. And a bit ridiculous.
But my mind wasn’t really on them.
It kept drifting back to the shop. To Alex. To the way his eyes had widened when things got heated - and the way they’d softened again when I looked at him.
I shouldn’t have cared that much. But I did.
And I didn’t know why.
A car pulled up behind Amanda and she glanced in her rear-view mirror before looking back at Callum. “Got to run,” she said. “See you in school.” She winked.
“I hope so,” Callum said, tapping the back of her car as she pulled away. He looked like a dog with a bone; his tongue might as well have been hanging out of his mouth, eyes glued to her taillights as if she’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket.
He swaggered over to me, grin already forming.
“She wants me, mate,” he said, full of confidence.
“New eyeshadow?” was all I said.
“Fuck off.”