Chapter 27 Dina
Dina
Seven days to the match
I’m woken up by the light peeking in through the gap in the curtains. Trying to avoid the glare, I turn around, but I see the figure lying on the floor, and nearly jump out of my skin.
It takes me a moment to remember last night. The club, the girl I met there, the walk home, calling Maya. Kissing Maya.
Shit.
Embarrassment surges through me as I run through the events of the night. I have no idea what was going through my head, what I was doing. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking.
I rub sleep out of my eyes, wondering how I look before remembering that I shouldn’t be wondering that at all.
I glance down at Maya’s sleeping form on the floor, trying not to think back to the kiss from last night.
She had kissed me back. The memories of it all flood back fast; the feel of her lips on mine, the way she looked at me, like she wanted this as much as I did.
But then the moment had passed and we’d barely spoken about it.
I can’t even imagine what she thought of me.
Probably she thought I was a total mess, and she wouldn’t be wrong.
I slip out of bed, looking for my clothes.
I find them in a crumpled pile on the bottom of the bed and quickly change.
I’m afraid that Maya’s going to wake up and we’re going to have to go through the events of the night.
That I’ll have to explain everything even though I have no explanations to offer her.
I consider leaving Maya a note. Instead, I decide I’ll send her a text when I’m out of the house and well on the way home.
That’s the only way I can think to deal with this situation.
So I quietly slip out of her bedroom and hurry down the stairs.
It takes me a minute of trying before I finally manage to get the finnicky front door open, but just as I’m about to step outside, a camera flashes in front of me, blinding me.
I blink, not sure what is going on. A moment later, when my vision clears, I finally see the spattering of reporters on the street, their cameras propped up in front of them.
‘Dina Chowdhury!’ one of the reporters – a woman that I’m sure I’ve seen before – hurries towards me, a bright smile on her face. ‘What an unexpected sight. So, am I right to assume that you’re dating Maya Alam?’
I can only blink at her, my jaw open. Why the hell are reporters here? And why are they asking me about my love life?
Another reporter hurries forward. ‘What does it feel like to be dating your rival coach, Dina?’ he asks enthusiastically.
I can barely even make sense of the question before a hand grips my shoulders, pulling me back into the house.
Maya is frowning, her eyebrows scrunched together. As soon as she’s pulled me back in, she leans forward, glaring at the reporters. ‘You really need to get out of here, this is private property,’ she says, her arms outstretched over me as if she’s protecting me from their prying eyes.
‘Maya, maybe you can tell us how it feels to be dating a rival coach?’ the male reporter says, his eyes alight with excitement.
‘Ten minutes, and if you’re not out of here, I will call the police,’ Maya says firmly, barely even looking the guy in the eye before slamming the door shut.
She presses her fingers to her forehead, like the whole thing has given her a headache.
‘Are they … always at your doorstep?’ I ask. I don’t remember seeing any reporters last night, but maybe since Maya has come back this is her morning routine. Maybe this is what it’s like being a professional footballer – I wouldn’t know.
‘No, of course not!’ Maya exclaims. ‘I have no idea what they’re doing out there. And what were they even talking about?’
That question brings me back to earth. They’d been asking about Maya and me dating, about us being rival coaches.
‘They were saying … we were rival coaches. How would they know that?’ I ask, frowning. ‘They knew my name. How the hell did they even know who I was?’
Maya shakes her head. ‘I don’t know; they must have found out from somewhere.’
She takes out her phone and begins typing into it. After a moment, her face falls, and she looks up at me hesitantly. She turns the phone towards me, and I see what has made her face fall.
Former football star Maya Alam caught up in EXPLOSIVE match with rival coach.
Maya Alam vs Dina Chowdhury: the football rivalry of the decade?
The websites they link to aren’t the Guardian or the New York Times. They’re just local papers, some that get delivered to our door for free every once in a while. But the fact that even local papers would know about me, or Maya, or the match, is so baffling that I don’t know what to say.
Maya turns the phone back around and clicks into one of the articles. I watch as her eyes scan it, her frown growing deeper with every passing moment.
‘It says that apparently there was some viral Instagram video talking about the match,’ Maya says.
Cold dread spreads through me.
‘Oh no …’
Maya looks up at me questioningly. ‘What?’
I don’t know how to explain it, or if I’m even right. I just take out my own phone and search for the one and only Instagram influencer that I know of personally: Jade. Her account comes up as soon as I search for it, and the pinned post on her profile is a video of her in her football kit.
I click onto it, and Maya comes close, looking at the video over my shoulder. I flush at the memory of the two of us this close last night in the dim light of Maya’s bedroom, trying to ignore the heat of her body, the familiar scent of her, as the two of us watch Jade on my small screen.
‘We’re playing the match of the century.
The Divas vs Westbrook. And we are in it to win it!
’ As Jade finishes speaking, the video transitions to a montage of the team sprinting, passing and scoring goals.
It certainly makes the team seem a lot more competent than they are half the time in practice.
‘This isn’t the only video,’ I say, as I scroll down, seeing multiple videos where Jade is talking about the match, the rivalry between me and Maya, and more. Many of them have racked up hundreds of thousands of views, which I can’t even fathom.
‘I guess people know that we’re playing a match,’ Maya says, looking from the videos to me.
I step back from her and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head from the heady scent of her.
‘What are we going to do? Why do these papers even care about our match?’ I ask. It was enough pressure before, but now I’m imagining my failures as a coach being broadcast everywhere and I’m not sure if I’m ready to deal with that. What had Jade been thinking?
‘It’s not a big deal, I’m sure they’ll forget about it soon,’ Maya says, but her breeziness only serves to annoy me.
Maya has been used to being in the limelight, used to newspapers writing about her.
Me and my team don’t need that kind of attention.
Especially when I’m sure that all it will do is magnify our failures and the fact that we aren’t a ‘proper’ team.
They’ve already been heartbroken when accused of that by Maya’s team.
‘I should get going,’ I say, putting my phone away. ‘Do you think they’re gone?’
Maya looks like she might object to me leaving for a moment.
I wonder if she’s thinking about last night too, and the thought that she might makes my face warm.
I need to get out of here before we fall into a conversation about yesterday.
Then, in the cover of the night, everything had felt easier.
Now, in the light of the morning sun, it feels more serious and I don’t want to deal with that.
‘Let me check,’ Maya says. She shuffles to the sitting room and parts the curtains, peeking out. She turns back around and smiles. ‘All clear.’
‘Well, good. I’ll just … Thanks for …’ I drift off, not sure what to even say, or how to say it.
‘Will your flatmates be home, to let you in?’ Maya asks, tilting her head to the side as she takes me in.
She acts like she doesn’t even notice how flustered I am.
She’s probably trying to spare me the embarrassment of having to deal with the fact that I kissed her unprompted last night, and then told her that I missed her when she was away.
‘They should be, yeah. So don’t worry. I’ll … I’ll go. Bye.’ I twist the doorknob and step outside. The sun is bright but feels like an intrusion. I half want Maya to call me back, but as I start making my way back towards home, she doesn’t. And I don’t know if I feel relieved or disappointed.