Chapter 3 Dina
Dina
I think about what Deen said while I cycle home from the restaurant, but I can’t really wrap my head around the idea of being a coach.
It’s been so long since I’ve even touched a football.
Whatever skill I thought I had has probably dissipated into thin air, and Jen likely knows that.
She must have only mentioned the assistant coach position because she was making small talk and didn’t know what else to talk about.
Yeah, that was definitely it.
I lock up my bike inside the foyer of the building before making my way up to my apartment.
Outside the door, I can hear the mumble of The Warm Up, a sports talk show that Thea and I sometimes watch together.
But when I step inside, my flatmates, Thea and Aisha, are in the sitting room watching what seems to be a very dry documentary about hairdressing – something that neither of them has ever expressed much interest in.
‘Hey!’ Thea says cheerfully over her shoulder.
‘Hi …’ I mumble, taking off my shoes and making my way towards the sitting room. ‘What are you guys watching?’
‘Oh, it’s just background noise,’ Aisha says, turning away from the TV and towards me, a bright smile pasted on her face. ‘We were just, you know, having a catch-up.’
‘Oh. Is there any good gossip that I’ve missed?’
‘Um …’ Aisha and Thea exchange a glance between them.
‘My co-worker – the really annoying one who I’m convinced is the office lunch thief? She got engaged!’ Thea offers.
‘Oh …’ I’m not really sure how to respond to that revelation considering Thea has only mentioned this co-worker a couple of times offhandedly.
‘Uh, and they just opened this new restaurant like ten minutes away from where I work. We should go there for brunch sometime,’ Aisha says enthusiastically.
‘What’s the place called?’
‘Um …’
‘What kind of food do they have?’
‘I want to say … Mexican?’ Aisha says.
‘OK, what is going on?’ I ask, frowning at Aisha and Thea. ‘Neither of these things is gossip, and why did you change the channel when I walked in the door?’
‘We didn’t do that,’ Thea says a little too fast, while Aisha shoots her a glare.
‘I could hear the talk show from outside. Is there some big scandal running through the football community or something?’
Aisha and Thea exchange another look, before Aisha reluctantly picks up the remote by her side and flicks the channel back to The Warm Up.
Erica Hadley and Karl Griffin are sitting across from each other on their comfy green couches as usual, but on the side is a blown-up picture of none other than her.
Maya Alam.
My mouth dries up just at the sight of her in her green football shirt, her black hair tied back in a ponytail out of her eyes.
Dark brown eyes looking straight at me as if they can see through me.
Even though she’s just an image on the TV, my heartbeat quickens.
For a moment, it feels like she’s right there in front of me, in my tiny living room.
It takes a minute for me to even register the conversation that Erica and Karl are having.
‘I think it came as a shock to everyone, especially given how well she has been doing over the past few years. Nobody could have expected that she would go into early retirement,’ Erica says.
‘Right. I think just a few months ago, we were discussing that she might be one of the players we’re seeing a lot of during the transfer market. She has – well, had – a lot of potential,’ Karl says in agreement.
‘There were a few incidents, though, and it’s not like she has endeared anyone to her with her prickly attitude. Could that be part of the reason why she has decided to retire?’
‘Was she forced into it, do you think?’ Karl asks, leaning forwards towards Erica, like she has some great insight into Maya Alam’s life.
‘We heard that she’s moved back,’ Aisha says, looking at me tentatively. ‘But it’s probably temporary, and you’ll probably never even see her. I mean—’
But I don’t wait to hear any more of Thea’s or Aisha’s consolations. Instead, I turn around and head into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.
I should have just left it alone, let them talk about co-worker engagements and brunch spots that they clearly know nothing about.
The last thing I want to think about is Maya Alam.
The last thing I want to do is run into her again.
But if she’s moved back here, I don’t know how that won’t happen.
And with my life currently in shambles, seeing me at my worst will probably be like a victory lap for Maya.
A buzzing in my pocket pulls me out of my thoughts momentarily. I slip my phone out to find a message notification. From Jen.
Jen: Hey Dina! Hope this is still your number, it’s been so long since I’ve texted you.
Anyway, I just wanted to say how nice it was to see you today and sorry for the girls making such a mess of your family’s restaurant!
About the coach position … I know you probably have better things to do, but if it’s ever something that takes your fancy, please let me know.
I think back to Deen, and to Maya’s picture on the TV.
Then I text Jen back.
‘They can be a bit of a handful,’ Jen says the next day.
We’re sat across from each other in a small corner coffee shop by Victoria Park.
I used to come here all the time with Maya, but I try not to think too much about that.
‘You saw yourself at your restaurant the other day. But they’re great kids all the same, and I think you’re the perfect person to get through to them. ’
I chew on my lips. When I texted Jen last night asking about the assistant coach position, I was fuelled by my resentment for Maya.
But now, in the cold light of day, I am rethinking the whole thing.
I haven’t played football in almost a decade.
And I’ve never coached before, or even been a team leader for anything, let alone of a group of teenage girls.
I don’t know what I was thinking in entertaining the idea of being a coach.
‘I don’t have any experience,’ I say. ‘I mean, I last played football … so long ago.’ And it didn’t end well, I think to myself but don’t say aloud.
‘Yeah, but it’s kind of like riding a bike.
’ Jen shrugs. ‘I know you haven’t forgotten all the ins and outs of it.
You were one of the best players on the team, Dina.
The position is yours, if you want it. And I really hope that you’ll take it.
’ Jen looks at me with so much pride in her eyes that I’m not sure how I can turn her down.
It was definitely a bad idea to meet up to discuss the coaching position.
If we had had this conversation over the phone, I wouldn’t have to deal with the weight of her crushing disappointment.
There’s a part of me that wants to say yes to her desperately – of course, there is.
Since seeing Jen at the restaurant, I’ve been wondering what it would look like if I went back to football.
But there’s that other part of me, the one that’s always whispering at the back of my head, that can’t stop reminding me of what a disaster football had been in the end.
How I had promised myself that I would never, ever go back to it.
‘I don’t know Jen,’ I mumble, staring into the depths of my coffee, and trying to think of a way that I can let her down gently.
I just need to explain to her that I’m not the Dina she remembers.
That I’m not that girl who used to leap out of bed in the morning thinking about football practice.
Who went to bed thinking about strategies and tactics.
Who practised drills in the park by her house until dusk.
It’s as I’m trying to come up with my reasons and excuses that the doors to the cafe open and a figure strolls in, looking around the shop.
I’m hoping against all hope that it’s not her because it can’t be her.
But I know that it is, because I’d recognise her anywhere.
We spent the best part of our teenage years together, after all.
Playing football together in Bethnal Green gardens, sharing the same earphones to listen to the latest Breaking Benjamin album, feeling like we had everything figured out when we had nothing figured out.
She doesn’t seem to take notice of me and Jen. Instead, her eyes are glued to her phone, even as she marches forwards. I know that I should look away. Maybe duck my face and hide, but I can’t stop staring at her.
Because she’s Maya Alam, the bane of my existence.
The reason for my heartbreak. The reason for all my heartbreak.
The one person that I never want to think about, and never wanted to see again.
But also somehow the one person that I can never seem to escape; definitely not in my thoughts and now, apparently, not even in reality.
For a moment, I’m sure that she’ll go right past us.
That we’ll be like ships passing at night.
And I prepare for just that, looking back towards Jen just as Maya approaches, closing my eyes and pretending that she’s not there, that I can’t already smell the familiar scent of her; it may be cloaked by her perfume – something citrusy – but there’s the undertone of earthiness that’s all Maya. It makes me a little light-headed.
But then Maya bumps right into me, almost sending me stumbling off my chair. Her phone falls to the ground with a loud clatter.
‘Oh my God, I am so, so sorry,’ Maya starts, even as she follows up her apology with a string of curses under her breath as she ducks for her phone on the ground. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going and—’
It’s only then that her eyes seem to land on me and there’s a flicker of recognition in her dark brown eyes.
‘Dina.’ Her voice is barely a whisper as she says my name. It should fill me with rage, how casually she says it. Instead, it sends a jolt of electricity through me. Because nobody else says my name quite like that.
Thankfully, before I lose all my sense of self, Jen comes to my rescue.
‘Maya!’ she exclaims, a smile breaking out on her face.
I look down at my coffee, trying to get my heartbeat under control.
‘Jen … hi.’ Maya sounds strained, and when I glance up, I notice that Jen has leapt up from her chair to wrap Maya in a hug.
‘I’d heard that you were back. How have you been?’
‘Yeah, good,’ Maya says. She glances at me, and I look away once more. At the walls of the cafe, at my coffee mug, at the blue-and-white tiled floor. Anywhere but at Maya. ‘How are you? What have you been up to?’
‘I’m doing good, I’ve been bouncing around between a few things,’ Jen says.
‘Now I’m actually running a youth football club for the council.
’ Jen turns to me, and I can sense her next line coming.
The assistant coach position that we’re discussing.
With Maya here now, maybe I’m not Jen’s only option anymore.
Unlike me, Maya was a professional football player.
And even if coaching a council team is probably beneath her after all the flash and pomp of her career, what if Jen offered it to her? The thought makes my stomach sink.
‘Dina and I were actually just—’ Jen begins, but I cut in before she can finish.
‘Talking about the team. I’m the assistant coach.
Just started.’ I can’t really avoid looking at Maya anymore.
My eyes flicker up, meeting hers. I try to keep my expression unchanged, but the sight of her makes my stomach lurch and my mouth dry up.
I can’t figure out what emotion I’m even feeling – anger, guilt, or the resurfacing of old feelings that definitely should not be resurfacing?
I’m not sure which one would be the worst.
It’s been nine years since I saw Maya in the flesh, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen her.
As much as I’ve tried to avoid any news about her since she left, I’ve stumbled across photos of her in newspapers and magazines, glanced at her interviews, and even caught glimpses of her matches.
She always looks different in them. Kind of fake, filtered and airbrushed.
Here, she looks more like the Maya that I used to know, the one that I have missed all these years.
Her black hair has only grown longer over the years, and now it looks slightly dishevelled.
She’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, like she’s just thrown it together, but the clothes cling to her in just the right way.
‘Oh, cool,’ Maya says. Her eyes snap back to Jen.
Jen looks between the two of us and I don’t know if she can read something in the air between us.
I don’t know how she would when I don’t even know what it is.
I want to be angry at Maya, want to hate her with every fibre of my being, but the sight of her has made me thaw a little.
Made all our memories of the past come rushing back.
‘I know you’ve just returned from your whirlwind football career. The football clubs here must be going crazy for you,’ Jen says.
Maya smiles, but even I can tell that it feels a bit forced.
There’s something different about her – there’s less of that haughty fierceness that she used to have when we were younger.
It’s been replaced by a strange kind of coldness.
I wonder if this is what Erica and Karl were talking about in The Warm Up.
‘Yeah. Um …’ Maya’s eyes flicker down to her phone screen, the one that she seems to be holding in a death grip.
‘I should actually get going, leave you guys to it,’ Maya says.
‘It was … nice to see you, Jen.’ She glances at me again – only for a moment – before she’s turning around and walking out the door.
Jen turns back to me, smile still in place.
‘So, you’re taking the job?’ She raises an eyebrow as if asking what exactly that was all about.
It’s not like she doesn’t have some idea about what things were like with me and Maya back in the day, but she doesn’t know how it all ended.
That we haven’t spoken in almost a decade, even if I’ve thought about her more often than I want to admit.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I’m taking the job.’