Page 109 of Finding Him
The thought of almost six weeks off is both a relief and a source of anxiety. Part of me is desperate for the break, for the chance to sleep in and not have to think about tactics or fitness or about if what I’m eating is going to make me sluggish all day.
But another part of me, the part that’s been playing soccer since I could walk, is already dreading the time away from the pitch.
Niall explained that our spring schedule will be much more packed. The schedule stays the same until about March, that’s when we start to see if we qualify to play for the Clover Cup in May.
The Clover Cup is a championship thing that works similar to how the playoffs worked back home. There’s a bracket and everything. The team who wins the Clover Cup gets a trophy and bragging rights, but also a decent chunk of money that goes to the school’s sports programs.
“Lot’s of press, too,” Niall tells me. We’re still parked in the Escort, having just got back from lunch at Mulligan’s with the boys. Or thelads, as Niall would say. “Ireland’s press eats up anything underdog related.”
“Would we be the underdogs?” I ask, chewing on a fry from my to-go container. It’s a bit soggy now, but I don’t mind. I’m too keyed up for the game to really taste anything anyway.
Niall laughs, a throaty sound that makes my stomach do a little flip. “Fuck no. We’re reigning champs. Mayville’s been winning that thing three years in a row now.”
“And yet you still can’t fund a girls’ team, huh?” I tease, popping another fry in my mouth. I love giving him a hard time about that, but it’s mostly just for show. Mostly.
I do miss playing with girls. But I get through by reminding myself that all ofthiswill lead to that someday.
Niall groans, rubbing his forehead. “Don’t remind me.”
It’s been a relatively good day. It’s kind of cold, but alright when the wind isn’t blowing. And Mom, Jamie and Lorraine are all coming to the game tonight, since Lorraine has been begging to come to one since we got here.
Most of the guys on the team have their family at games all the time. I think at least one of Finn’s parents come to almost every game. Me, I’ve never really had that kind of constance, even in America. It’s not something that I really envy, but I guess that’s because I’m not used to it.
Still, it feels like a treat when someonedoescome for me.
“How’s your knee?” I ask him, trying to get a feel for if I should look out for it during the game. I try to make a habit of asking him now and then, before games and training sessions.
He always says the same thing, but I can’t stop myself from checking.
“Fine,” he shrugs, stealing one of my fries. I level a glare at him, but not because of the stolen food. It’s because of the casual way he says it, the way he always says it.
He looks at me, his stormy eyes softening. “What? It is. I really feel fine today, Mols. I’m not messing.”
I should believe him—I totally want to. But I’ve believed him before—about not having a problem with drinking—and I ended up being wrong.
My biggest fear is that this injury is worse than he ever lets on to anyone, that he’s pushing himself too hard, trying to be the best, and that one day he’s going to push too far and break for good. And if thatdoeshappen, I know I’d feel ridden with guilt because I was complicit in helping him hide it.
“How was your last appointment?” I ask, knowing he had one with his doctor on most Wednesdays. He’d usually go during lunch time, and his Mam would drop him back off at school before the end of the day.
“Same as always,” he says, turning to look out the window. “If the doctors don’t see anything wrong then neither do I.”
“Niall...” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I’m alright,” he says, voice firmer but still kind. He turns back to face me, his gaze intense. “I’m always alright.”
And I want to believe him, God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts. But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s not telling me everything, that he’s hiding something, and that something is going to come back to bite us both.
??` ?? ?´?
FAIRVIEW IS ONEof, if not the, best teams we’ve played against this year.
From the moment they step onto the pitch, it’s clear that they’re in a different league to the teams we’ve been playing.
They have this air of confidence—real confidence, not fake confidence that covers up arrogance—and it makes them formidable opponents. Their defense is well-organized, their midfielders keep possession, and their attackers are deadly.
They move with a fluidity that’s a stark contrast to the more direct, physical style of the play that’s common here. They’re good, and they know it.
I’m once again back to my old position, the center-mid spot I’ve always felt most comfortable in. It was nice to take over for Niall for a bit, but there’s no doubt it’s for the better that he's back to being our hybrid.
