Chapter 26 Callan
CALLAN
Our supporters are going nuts as we come off the pitch, shouting and singing and stamping their feet on the bleachers.
A decent crowd traveled from Ryemont to Wilmington for the match, and I wish my parents and Astrid could’ve been here to see us smash our rivals.
But Astrid had to work, and the new bathrooms are being installed today, so Mum and Dad are needed at home.
“Dude.” Thor slaps me on the back. “That last header was dope!” His grin is shared by every player on the team. After the last defeat, this win feels real good.
“You ate and left no crumbs, bro,” Riley adds, clamping a hand on my shoulder.
“Everyone was on fire today, mate. It was a team effort.” I shrug off their hands and their praise.
“So humble.” Thor smirks, nudging me with his elbow. “I wonder how long that’ll last when you hit the big leagues.”
“Oh my gawd!” A high-pitched screech accompanies the words before Gwen bulldozes her way through a few of the cheerleaders hovering on the sidelines and charges at me.
Thor snorts out a laugh as she flings her arms around me.
“You freaking crushed it, Cal!” She hugs me tight.
“I bet there were scouts in the crowd writing your name down.”
Peeling her arms off me, I step back, creating a little distance between us. I don’t mention I know for a fact there were scouts in attendance because Coach already confirmed it before the game. “Hopefully.”
“You have star written all over you,” Ana says, materializing on my left side like a ghostly apparition. Before I can stop her, she leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “You were amazing out there.”
I move back farther and say, “Thanks,” through gritted teeth. I’d love nothing more than to tell that bitch to go fuck herself, but causing shit with the head cheerleader would not be smart. I need Coach on my side if I’m going to seriously consider college and scholarship opportunities.
“What’re you doing?” Gwen hisses at Ana.
Ana narrows her eyes. “I’m congratulating our star striker. What’s it to do with you?”
“Callan belongs to Astrid, and Astrid’s my ride or die. I’m just trying to stop you from making a fool of yourself.”
I have zero interest in girl drama, and I don’t care if Gwen thinks it’s rude, but I am fucking done with this shit. I stride off without saying goodbye to either girl. I’m itching to get to the locker room and message Astrid.
Thor comes up alongside me. “I see Ana still hasn’t gotten the message.”
“She’s stubborn, but it won’t get her anywhere. All she’s doing is pissing me the fuck off all the time.” Every single time we’re training or playing a match, she is right there, in my face, flicking her hair, pouting, and thrusting her tits out, trying to draw my attention, and I’m sick of it.
“Has Travis said anything?” Thor asks as we enter the athletic building.
“Nope, and he better not.” I crack my knuckles as tension spirals through me.
“Pity Astrid couldn’t come today,” he says, pushing through the door into the locker room.
I shrug, downplaying it, but the truth is I missed her. “Renee was planning to send her updates.”
Thor wanders off to the showers while I linger at my locker, grabbing my phone from my bag. I sit on the bench, and a smile lifts my lips when I open my inbox to find a message waiting for me.
Congrats, soccer star. You slayed. So proud of you.
It’s accompanied by an incredible photo I’m assuming Renee took. I’m airborne, my body angled toward the goal, face rigid with determination, and my head tipped forward, reaching for the ball that led to my third and final goal of the match. I might need to print that one.
Thx. We’re all buzzing now.
Can’t wait to hear about it.
Come over tonight after work?
Can’t. Family dinner at the resort
Later then?
She’ll know what I mean.
CYA
I slip my phone back in my bag before stripping out of my muddy gear and heading to the showers.
On the way back, the bus stops at a burger joint because we’re all starving. I smother a groan when the cheerleaders’ bus pulls up, hurrying into the diner after Thor and Riley before Ana can try to stick her claws in me.
We slide into a booth at the back with a few of the other players, and I don’t miss the scowl on Ana’s face when she comes inside and realizes there is no room for her to squeeze her way in.
But like I said, she’s one determined bitch, and when I emerge from the bathroom after taking a piss, she’s waiting in the hallway outside.
I ignore her, but she steps out in front of me, blocking my way. “Move, Ana.”
“Callan.” Her hand lands on my T-shirt, and I instantly remove it.
“Don’t touch me,” I grit out. “And get out of my way.”
“Please.” Hurt splays across her face, and tears pool in her eyes. “We got off on the wrong foot, and I have been trying to apologize, but you won’t let me.”
I work hard to leash my anger. “I don’t want or need an apology. I don’t want anything to do with you. I respect you as head of the cheerleading team, but that is the extent of our involvement. If you don’t stop this shite, I’ll tell Coach you’re harassing me.”
“You wouldn’t.” Alarm glimmers in her eyes.
“Ana, seriously.” Gwen comes up behind her.
“You should let this go before you get in trouble.” Gwen tugs on her arm, and Ana spins around.
The two girls share a look I can’t see, but whatever it is, it works because Ana stalks off without looking back.
Gwen presses her back to the wall, smiling up at me.
“You’re welcome.” She runs a hand down the front of her top and skirt.
“Is that Astrid’s?” I blurt, recognizing the outfit Astrid wore a couple of weeks ago.
“Yes. She lets me borrow her things sometimes.” She preens a little, and her fingers toy with the edge of the skirt. “Do you like it?”
What the fuck kind of question is that? “Ugh, I should be getting back.” I move to walk around her, but her hand darts out, snagging my arm. “I’m glad I bumped into you. We need to talk.”
I shuck off her hand. “The bus will be leaving soon.”
“This won’t take long.” She stands in front of me with her head cocked to one side and her hands on her hips. The position stretches the top across her bigger tits, and I wonder why the fuck Astrid is loaning clothes to her when their shapes are nothing alike.
I cleave a sigh. “What is it?”
“When are you going to take your head out of your ass and make things official with Astrid?”
I instantly see red. Like what the actual fuck? “Astrid and I have an agreement, and it’s nothing to do with you, so butt out, Gwen.” I seriously have a pain in my face today with fucking cheerleaders sticking their noses in my business.
“It is if you hurt my best friend.”
“Astrid doesn’t need you fighting her battles. If she’s got something to say, she’ll say it to my face.”
Her expression softens. “Would she?”
What the hell does that mean? I push past her, really pissed off now. We won a major game today. I should be fucking ecstatic, enjoying the celebrations with my friends, but both girls have really gotten on my nerves and fucked with my good mood.
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Thor says when we’re back on the bus en route for home.
“Ana and Gwen both cornered me at the diner and put me in a bad mood.”
“What’d Gwen say?”
“Some shite about making things official with Astrid.”
Thor looks pensive for a few beats. “Maybe she has a point.” He holds up his hands. “Not to piss you off even more, but”—he looks around to ensure no one is listening—“things look serious between you. It doesn’t seem fake.”
“Well, it is,” I snap, rubbing at my now throbbing temples. “We’re good actors.”
“I grew up with Astrid, and I’ve seen her date other guys, and she didn’t look at them the way she looks at you.” He pins me with solemn eyes. “I told you not to hurt her, and I meant it. Seems like you two need to have an honest conversation.”
“She knows the score,” I grumble, tugging my earbuds from my pocket.
“If you say so, bud.” He knocks my shoulder playfully, but I’m not in the mood for talking to anyone.
I just want to get home and see Astrid. Pushing my buds in my ears, I blast music so I don’t hear anyone or anything going on around me.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head back and tune all the nosy motherfuckers out.
“Congrats, love.” Mum tugs me into a hug the second I set foot in the house. “We heard all about the match.” She yanks my face down to her level and kisses my cheeks. “You make me so proud, Callan. I promise that’s the last match we are missing.”
“It’s fine, Ma, and…are you crying?” I spot telltale moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes.
She laughs, swiping at her tears. “Don’t mind me. It’s my time of month.”
I groan. “Not something I needed to know.”
Mum laughs again, casting a glance over her shoulder.
“Hey.” Astrid wiggles her fingers as she comes out into the hallway, followed by Da and Erin.
I’m confused. “I thought your shift didn’t end until nine.” It’s not even seven yet.
“Don’t be mad, but I actually didn’t work at the resort today.” She trades gazes with Mum as Erin and Dad share a conspiratorial smile.
I narrow my eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Go on, love.” Ma gives Astrid a gentle push. “It was your idea. You show him.”
“Show me what? Someone better start explaining.”
Astrid grabs my hand, visibly swallowing. “Come with me.”
We all troop up the stairs in a line, and I’m starting to get anxiety.
When we pass the closed bathroom door without stopping, my anxiety builds.
Astrid stops in front of my closed bedroom door, turning to face me.
She knots her hands and chews on her lip, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
“So, um, we all lied today. We needed a day to transform your room. As a surprise.” She gulps as she curls her hand around the door handle.
“I really hope you like it.” Then she opens the door and steps aside to let me enter first.
Shock renders me speechless as my gaze skims over everything. It looks like a completely different room, and I cannot believe they did all this in one day. A lump forms in my throat as I think of all the work that has gone into achieving this.
Glossy oak wooden boards line the floor under my feet as I move deeper inside my new space.
Gone is the garish wallpaper, replaced with smooth painted walls.
A navy feature wall is behind my bed, and the other walls are painted light gray.
Crisp white bed linens adorn the bed. Plush cushions in navy, light gray, and vibrant blue are artfully styled against the pillows on the bed.
Draped across the end of the bed are the softest-looking blankets, one is a checkered blue and gray, and the other is a deeper gray than the walls.
Two tall freestanding lamps curve over both sides of the bed at the back of the lockers. Gold-framed inspirational quotes hang on the feature wall behind the bed, on either side of a framed Messi jersey that must have cost a fortune.
A new blackout blind covers the window underneath heavy navy and gray curtains.
Fitted shelving has been cleverly built into the space over the door and on both sides of the frame. My books, pens, school supplies, and some other stuff is already housed there.
On the other side of the room, above my desk and chair, sit two thick oak shelves with inset lighting.
“Is that—” I cut myself off, walking closer to inspect the custom-built shelves.
The top shelf houses my trophies and awards, and the bottom one has circular holes cut out to accommodate my special footballs, which are currently displayed and no longer gathering dust in the box at the back of my wardrobe.
“Astrid designed and made them herself,” Ma explains, coming up beside me.
I turn to look at my girlfriend. “You really made those?”
She nods, smiling sheepishly. “I got the idea the day you showed me that FIFA ball. Your dad and I bought the wood for the shelves a few weeks ago, and I’ve been working on them on the down-low in our garage when you weren’t around.”
“I can’t believe you did that.” My voice sounds strangled because I’m currently wrestling with a whole tsunami of emotions.
That she did this for me just blows my mind.
My eyes lower to the desk, almost bugging out when I lift the white framed photo of me from the game earlier. “How on earth did you manage this?”
Astrid shrugs, a familiar rosy hue staining her cheeks. “Renee was updating me the whole time during the match, and when she sent that pic, I knew it was perfect for the frame, so I raced downtown and got it printed.”
“I helped Astrid paint this,” Erin says, pointing to the space beside my desk. In the middle of the wall is a black-and-white hand-painted drawing of the back of a football jersey with the number 9 and HUNT on it. Three footballs float in a circle on either side of the jersey.
I swallow thickly over the lump in my throat. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you like it?” Worry creases Astrid’s brow as she stares at me with a hand placed on her chest.
“I fucking love it. It’s amazing.” Tears stab the backs of my eyes. “Thank you.” I can almost see the relief bleed from Astrid’s pores. I look at my parents. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m so pleased you love it.” Ma hugs me briefly. “I’ve been second-guessing myself all day, wondering if we should’ve told you instead of just springing it on you.”
“It was a great surprise.”
I drag my sister over, tucking her under my arm. “You did great, Pixie. I love the jersey painting.” I ruffle her hair, and she scowls, ripping herself away from me. I turn to face Astrid. “You are so talented, and I can’t believe you designed all this. It’s perfect.”
You’re perfect. I think it, but I don’t say it. Not eager to pour my heart out with an audience. I brush my lips against hers. “Thank you, beautiful.”
“I’m really happy you like it,” she says, beaming at me.
I want to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her, but it’ll have to wait.