Chapter 5 #2
‘We’ve got some scouts coming to the first few games this season.’ His hand trails down to his chin where he rubs at his dark stubble. ‘Do you know about the Harchester United academy?’
‘Harchester, yes, academy, no.’
Every soccer player alive has heard of Harchester United, they’re one of the most famous clubs in the world.
‘They’ve got a youth team just like any other club.
’ He leans in to yell in my ear as the music kicks up what sounds like another ten decibels.
‘But they also run an academy for amateurs, Sunday league players, uni students, people like us basically. You spend a fortnight training with the coaches and at the end, they select a side to play a full ninety minutes against the first team. Who knows? Impress the brass and maybe they’ll sign you to a full-time deal. It’s happened before.’
‘For real?’
He nods. ‘For really real. It’s competitive though. They only take fifteen players a year and there’s not a man I know who wouldn’t commit serious crimes for a chance to share a pitch with the Harchester United first team.’
His words cut deeper than intended and I take another deep drink before I reply.
‘What position do you play?’ I ask.
‘Centre forward, you?’
‘Pleased to confirm I’m your official wingman.’ He slings a friendly arm around my shoulder and winks. ‘Enough shop talk, come on, what do these reprobates need to know about you?’
I hadn’t noticed before but the whole team’s attention is now firmly focused on me.
All the guys, a dozen or so, standing in a semi-circle, hanging on my every word.
Not exactly new, I know how to run a crowd, but I haven’t had so many pairs of eyes on me since the start of summer and it feels like a lifetime ago.
‘Uh, nothing controversial, standard stuff.’ I clutch my beer bottle in both hands, a bead of sweat cutting a steady path down my temple. ‘I’m studying psychology. When I’m not at practice, I’m a pretty big gamer, console guy. PS5, Xbox, Switch.’
‘Sounds like we’ve got a challenger for your Mario Kart crown,’ one of the guys says to Assad, who lets out a hack of a laugh.
‘Bring it on.’
The team all start to speak at once, yelling over each other, someone suggesting a Mario Kart tournament, someone else demanding another round of drinks. Automatically, I reach for the cell phone in my back pocket. When I flip it open, the screen is blank. No bars.
‘Good luck.’ Assad lays a hand on my shoulder as I hold the plastic brick up in the air, waving it overhead.
‘No reception in Members. Legend has it the student union lined the walls with tin foil last time they decorated in here to stop people making bad decisions when they’d had too many.
If you really need to call someone, you’ll have to go all the way back up to the halls to get enough bars. ’
I put my crappy, and now useless, phone away. ‘You can’t even make internet calls?’
The team groans, half hanging their heads, the others looking at me like they’re about to tell me my puppy has to be put to sleep.
‘Nope,’ says one of the Riches. ‘Hemden is a phone-free university. If any of the faculty catch you on your phone on campus, you get fined. There’s Wi-Fi in halls that’ll let you check your email and texts, but you can’t stream anything or search anything unless you’ve booked computer time in the library so they can monitor your usage. ’
‘To stop anyone using AI in their essays,’ Assad explains.
‘Before you freak out completely,’ Rich adds when I turn pale. ‘We’ve got an Xbox hooked up in the team common room, team perk, but that’s it for consoles on campus. Thank fuck no one can use it except for us.’
My face falls all the way down to my shoes.
‘No phones? That’s illegal, surely?’ I’m starting to feel a little panicky and I don’t like it. ‘Isn’t internet connection a basic human right?’
‘We’re not humans, we’re Hemden students.’ Assad smirks. He points at the bottle in my hand as my mind reels. ‘Another?’
‘Thanks, but I should rest up for tomorrow. Still gotta find something to eat.’ I look over to the door but before I can make a move, the crowd parts to reveal the other Rich, carrying what looks like a dozen beer bottles in his arms and the whole team cheers.
‘You can’t go now!’ Assad calls over the noise. ‘And you don’t want to wuss out on your round, do you? Can’t be starting the season with that kind of reputation.’
‘No?’ I say, still pretty non-committal until a passing redhead pauses in front of me for a split second. It’s all I need.
‘Hi,’ I say, body working faster than my brain.
She’s hot. Not in a cute, girl-next-door way like the librarian, but hot as in men have killed just to breathe the same air as lesser women.
But I’m not interested. Hooking up with hot girls is not why I’m here, although you could say hooking up with hot girls is how I ended up here in the first place.
‘Ethan Taylor, all-American football star, meet Bethany Wyatt, all-English chemistry whizz.’ Assad grins as he passes us both a fresh beer. ‘I’ll leave you two to get acquainted, shall I?’
I jerk my chin in his direction, a silent thanks but no thanks. He really is my new wingman.
‘Cheers,’ she says, tapping her bottle against mine, looking me up and down, her gaze travelling over my chest, my lips, my eyes. Then she smiles.
Hazel eyes, juicy lips and long, thick red hair caught up in one of those plastic clips that looks like it’s been carved out of a shell.
Her tight black dress just barely covers her ass and the spaghetti straps are straining to hold in her tits, and when I move closer, I can smell strawberry shampoo.
‘Cheers,’ I say back, lowering my voice so she has to lean in to hear me. When she wraps her lips around the opening of her beer bottle, everything south of my stomach tightens. I’m not interested, I’m not. But it can’t hurt to talk to the woman.
‘So, Bethany.’ I raise one arm above my head and lean against the wall, cutting the two of us off from the rest of the party. ‘Tell me everything I need to know.’
‘About Hemden?’
‘About you.’
I don’t mean to flirt, I swear, but it’s hard to break a habit of a lifetime.
When I pull back, squinting in the low light of the crowded room, I can’t help but think she looks a little like Breanna.
Her cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink as I sip the fresh beer.
One more isn’t going to kill me. After all, it would be rude to make my new friend drink alone.
Behind Bethany, I see a face frowning in my direction and since there’s only one face I recognize in this entire country, I reposition myself until she’s out of my eyeline. If anyone knows about being rude, it’s the librarian.
‘I don’t know.’ Bethany’s soft voice catches on a nervous laugh. ‘What exactly do you want to know about me?’
‘You could tell me anything in that accent,’ I say, cocking my head to one side.
I’m not interested but if I was … it’s just talking, just a conversation.
Until she aims a playful punch at my shoulder, never once breaking eye contact, and I know I’ve got her.
She doesn’t know my ex, she doesn’t know my brother, she doesn’t know anything about me.
Maybe there’s an upside to exile after all.