Chapter 18
Mia
Soccer is really not my thing. That goes for all sports to be honest, I only went to my brother’s football games because I had to.
Where I’m from, when your older brother is the star quarterback on the high school team, you might as well walk up and kick him in the balls during first period rather than not show up to a Friday night game. It would basically be the same thing.
But Alice and Jenna insisted we come to support Michael and, to a lesser degree, Ethan, so here I am, Saturday afternoon, bundled up in matching maroon Hemden sweaters and scarves, the perfect level of cosy for the pumpkin spice weather.
‘You’ll enjoy it when you get into it,’ Alice insists. ‘I was never a football fan before, but you know, school spirit and all that.’
‘Let’s fucking go!’ Jenna screams. ‘Murder those Mossington bastards!’
‘She takes it very seriously.’ Alice leans in to speak a little softer. ‘You’ve been warned.’
Oliver isn’t here. He made it clear he wouldn’t be attending during our study session the day before.
When I asked if he might join us, he laughed as though I’d asked if he was planning to run for president of the USA.
Instead of nursing a suspicious-looking paper cup of coffee in the stands of the Hemden football ground, he is at band practice.
Again. He has a lot of band practices for someone whose band doesn’t actually have any shows scheduled, but he is a perfectionist and that’s something I have decided to love about him.
‘How was your study date yesterday?’ Alice asks before popping open a bag of salt and vinegar chips and holding them out in my direction. I decline, holding up the coffee in explanation and she shrugs, pushing a fistful into her mouth.
‘Good? I think so at least? Although we never seem to get any studying done.’
‘Isn’t that the point of a study date with someone you like?’
‘I wish that’s what I meant. We talk, listen to music, read to each other.’
Jenna interrupts with a gagging sound.
‘But he hasn’t made a single move.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s me, right?’ I sigh. ‘He doesn’t see me that way. Guys never do.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Alice says with a frown. ‘You’re offensively adorable.’
‘Thank you but adorable isn’t how I want him to see me. I’m not hot. I’m not, you know, desirable.’
‘Shut your mouth, you’re so hot I could fry an egg on you. Hotness is a state of mind, it’s real if you believe in it. Like the Easter bunny.’
‘You think the Easter bunny is hot?’
‘I think anyone who brings me chocolate is hot.’
It’s a good point.
‘And back to Oliver. Am I being crazy? Does he just want to be friends?’
Alice deliberates through a mouthful of chips. ‘Oliver can be an odd bod. First year, we saw him all the time, second year he started his band, so he wasn’t around as much. You’ve seen more of him than anyone else so far this year. Now, I’m not an expert in men—’
Jenna pauses her yelling to scoff at her friend.
‘—but I don’t think he’s the sort to be spending time with someone if he isn’t interested in them.’
‘Agreed.’ Jenna plucks a chip from Alice’s bag and munches thoughtfully.
‘Maybe he isn’t sure you’re interested. British men need a lot of help.
Most of them still haven’t evolved past all that Pride & Prejudice stuff.
They have no idea how a girl feels until she sticks her tongue down their throat. ’
A beautiful image.
‘So, you think I should ask him out?’
‘Oh my God, no!’ She rears back with a horrified look on her face. ‘Nope, he wouldn’t go for that. Michael wouldn’t care, Bryn, you’d have to, but Oli definitely wants to be the man. Which is rank if you ask me, but you didn’t, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.’
‘A polite way to put it would be to say he’s more old-fashioned,’ Alice offers, pulling her hat down all the way to her eyebrows when the wind picks up and blows in our direction. ‘He’ll want to do the asking.’
I chug my coffee and fold the paper cup in on itself.
‘So, I need to make it obvious that I like him but let him ask me out? What is this, 1952?’
Alice nods. ‘More or less. He’s that sort, Mia. Went to a fancy school, fourth- or fifth-generation Hemden student, I forget.’
‘Proper posho,’ Jenna adds. ‘Probably inbred.’
‘Proper public school boy,’ Alice amends. ‘Probably not inbred.’
‘And by public she means private,’ Jenna says, and I sigh.
‘You do know a lot of Britishisms don’t make sense, right?’
‘Yes.’ Jenna nods. ‘It’s part of our charm. The point is, Oliver Jenkins is posh, and you can’t expect posh boys to behave like normal people. Al, do you remember when he was always wearing silk scarves in the first year?’
‘So he’s eccentric,’ I say, defensive. ‘Very Harry Styles.’
‘So chill your tits and let him ask you out,’ Alice advises.
‘You’re a perfect fit for his fantasies.
Gorgeous American exchange student, destined to leave him at the end of the school year, setting him up for months of heartfelt, handwritten letters and painstakingly curated mix tapes.
Men like Oliver live for the drama. Don’t make it too easy. ’
Jenna straightens my scarf, fixing me with a stern look. ‘And I would add, be careful. He’s never been very consistent when it comes to women.’
‘Noted.’
‘It’s all a game,’ Alice says as the visiting team slope out onto the field, twisting at the waist and raising their knees high like the Rockettes. ‘You just have to know how to play it.’
‘And speaking of games, can we stop talking about idiot men? We’re about to kick off.’ Jenna stamps her feet and claps her hands while letting out an impressive string of expletives, aimed at the opposite side of the stands.
‘Honest, babe, you’re stressing too much,’ Alice tells me, speaking as quietly as she’s able as the volume around us increases. ‘Dating here can’t be that different to dating at home.’
‘Trust me, everything here is different to how it is at home.’
‘Not everything,’ she says, nodding towards the soccer field.
The crowd is going crazy around us, everyone yelling and chanting and clapping.
Then I see why. The Hemden team, led by Ethan, runs out onto the grass, maroon shirts, shorts, high socks and black boots.
Not that I’ve spent a significant portion of my life checking out soccer players, but I have to admit they look good. Ethan looks good.
‘Our colours suit your boy,’ Jenna notes as he jogs over to a white circle painted on the middle of the field.
‘He’s not my boy,’ I respond, my eyes cutting away when he glances in our direction.
‘And he is included in the things that are different. I’ve already told you, Ethan doesn’t know I exist back home.
Even when he wasn’t drowning in adoring fans, he had his ultra-hot girlfriend to keep him busy. Although he did say they broke up.’
‘Well, yeah, he wants to keep his options open,’ Alice comments. ‘Not many lads his age are going to do the long-distance thing when they’re in a different country.’
‘I guess not.’
It makes sense. I haven’t kept track of all the DMs that flooded my inbox last week, but Alice was probably right.
No wonder Breanna doesn’t want to talk about it.
Her supposedly besotted boyfriend of two years blew her off so he could hook up with a bunch of British girls, and he got started on his very first night at Hemden.
That has to suck, especially if she didn’t see it coming.
‘I assume he’s got some sort of ticket system in place,’ Alice says. ‘Take a number, wait on a bench outside his room?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Can’t blame anyone involved. If I hadn’t sworn off dating completely, I’d happily put my name on his list.’
I laugh along with Alice, but the truth is, I haven’t seen or heard anyone in his room since that first night.
Not that I’m paying super close attention, but it does seem a little strange.
Unless he’s taking care of business outside of Carpenter House which, let’s face it, is the more likely situation.
‘How come you’ve sworn off dating?’
‘Shitty break-up. Boring story.’
It doesn’t take a psych major to deduce that she doesn’t want to talk about it. Now I think about it, she’s never talked about her own dating life, guys, girls or anyone else.
Back on the field, I see Michael scan the crowd and find us with double finger guns before slowly jogging down to take his place in the goal. His uniform is different from the rest of the team’s, head-to-toe navy blue, with coordinating maroon stripes on the long sleeves.
‘How come Michael’s uniform is different?’
‘Just is,’ Alice replies. ‘Probably needs long sleeves because he hardly bloody does anything for ninety minutes.’
‘He doesn’t need to as long as the defence is up to snuff,’ Jenna murmurs, a look of concern on her face.
‘We’ve got two newbies in the back four and I don’t know how comfortable Clark will be on the wing.
He’s used to playing centre forward in a four-two-three-one.
I hope Clive knows what he’s doing with the four-three-three bollocks. ’
I lean in towards Alice, a blank look on my face. ‘Do you understand a word she just said?’
‘Best to just smile and nod when she gets on one,’ she advises. ‘Jenna loves her football. If they had any sense, they’d let her take over as manager.’
‘Haven’t got the sense they were born with,’ Jenna says with a tut. ‘It’s a common problem in football.’
‘It’s a common problem with men,’ Alice replies. ‘Now who’s ready for ninety minutes of twenty-two idiots chasing a ball around a pitch like a bunch of drunk toddlers?’
‘You’re really selling it,’ I tell her as the referee blows a whistle and another cheer goes up from the crowd.
Twenty-two players in front of me but my eye is drawn straight to Ethan.
He isn’t the tallest or the most muscular but there is something undeniably appealing about him, and it’s obvious everyone in the stands is staring at him too.
He shakes the hand of the opposing captain and when he takes the first kick of the game, a steely look of determination on his face, I realize I’m holding my breath.
The action is fast, Ethan passing to one of his teammates so quickly, the white-and-black ball is a blur.
I don’t know much about the game, but their opposition seem like statues in comparison, slow and leaden, flashes of Hemden red darting all over the field as they move towards the goal.
When the ball comes back to Ethan, I grab Jenna’s arm and gasp, and when one of the Mossington players slides to the ground, kicking his legs out from under him, I hear myself yelling at the top of my voice.
‘He can’t do that, right?’ I shout over the roar of the crowd. ‘That’s got to be against the rules. Is Ethan okay?’
‘Calm down, it’s all right.’ She points to the scene as my new nemesis reaches down to help Ethan up to his feet, his left thigh marked with dirt and grass. ‘Look, your boy is fine. And we got a free kick.’
‘He’s not my boy,’ I say again, releasing my grip on her arm. ‘I just got carried away with the game.’
Jenna grins.
‘Whatever you say. Maybe we’ll make a football fan out of you yet.’
‘Maybe,’ I concede reluctantly. ‘Maybe.’