Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

I frown. I know that I’ve met her before. If I could only remember.

Shaun takes her hand, turning her away from me. “Tash, we’re going in the cage. Can you grab Dax some gear and lay it out in the changing room, love?”

Tasha nods and hurries off.

I stare at my brother open-mouthed.

“What?” he asks. “It’s not that odd.”

“Uh, yeah it is, mate. You, in love. It’s…” I struggle for the right words. “It’s bloody mind blowing.”

“Fuck off. Get dressed and get your arse in the cage, rock star. I’m gonna beat you silly.”

I laugh. “Just like old times then.”

Only it’s not the same. Everything in Hackney is different. Mum, dad, Shaun, me. It’s my home, only it’s not. As I’m getting changed into my gear I realize what the problem is. It’s Kate. She’s not here. That’s why it doesn’t feel right. Without her, Hackney holds no fond memories for me. Nothing here will ever feel right again.

“C’mon ya nancy! Let’s see what ya can do!” My dad’s loud bellow shakes me from my moping.

Great. It really will be like old times. I’ll get my ass beaten, dad will tell me how much I suck, and I can go back to being alone and miserable.

Sounds about right.

Kate

“Great work, Campbell.”

Chelsea Lewis, my new coach for the U.K. Olympic team, high fives me after I make seven out of ten of my practice free kicks.

“Brecken!” Coach yells out at our keeper, “you need to work on your left. Campbell figured your weakness in two kicks.”

The redheaded keeper from Scotland waves in agreement. “Aye, Coach. I’ll dae better next time.”

I head inside of the training facility in Manchester, where our team is based.

“Ready for tomorrow?” I ask Colleen, a peppy blonde girl from Ireland.

“Oi’m excited we’re startin’ the matches,” she chuckles, slamming her locker door shut.

I smile. Sometimes I think I need a translator for all of the different dialects we have on the team. We’re all speaking English, but it doesn’t always feel that way.

“New Zealand’s a long way away. I hope there’s a good in flight movie,” I joke.

Colleen laughs out loud. “Dare better be. Oi git bored easily.”

Grinning back, I join her, laughing until my cheeks hurt. Finally, I belong somewhere. Here, with these women, I’m welcomed with open arms. We all have the same love of the game, having dedicated most of our lives to excelling at it. Now we have the chance to show the world that we aren’t a bunch of mannish munters.

The competition is fierce, but it feels unbelievable, like I’m alive and doing something incredible—for myself and for my country. Unfortunately, Logan disagreed. I think back to the conversation we had before I left.

“You should be free to see other people while I’m gone, Logan. It wouldn’t be fair to expect you to wait for me.”

Logan’s steel-grey eyes pin me in place, the emotions in them indiscernible. “I thought you wanted me to go with you.” Still, his eyes reveal nothing, not hurt, not anger, not anything.

“You can’t just quit your job and follow me around the world. It’s not right and it’s not going to happen, Logan.”

He frowns, those usually loving eyes turning hard. “What do you mean it’s not going to happen? You don’t want me to come with you? Is that it?”

Logan’s tone is getting harsher and louder. A few people in the restaurant have glanced over at us. I should have done this in private, but I didn’t want to be stuck having a four-hour weepy goodbye with tears and begging and whatever.