it, and there was no way I was going to cause a scene. Xavier was right, it was huge on me. It was the team’s winter shirt as well, meaning it had long sleeves, which I could at least pull down over my cold hands. Even though I shouldn’t allow myself to hope for anything after Carter’s silence all week, I couldn’t help the nervous, excited feeling fluttering in my belly at the thought of me wearing a shirt with his number on.
And then, there he was. The music cut out and a voice was announcing the teams, and they filed onto the pitch, Carter leading the way for Alstone High, the captain’s armband on his bicep. My stomach flipped, and I couldn’t look away. He didn’t look at me, not once, and I couldn’t help my disappointment, but I reminded myself that it was only to be expected.
The pre-game stuff passed in a blur, as my whole focus shrank to Carter. I watched as the teams shook hands, and my eyes stayed on Carter, watching as he made his way down the line of players with practiced efficiency. The coin toss came next, and then suddenly, the whistle was being blown and the game was starting.
Cheers, whistles, boos, shouts—the whole stadium was a cacophony of noise. I found myself actually getting into the game, my eyes glued to the action. When Carter passed the ball to Kian, who sent it flying to Preston in a perfect arc, I held my breath. The ball seemed to hang in mid-air for a moment, before Preston booted it straight into the goal. I flew out of my seat with a scream, along with the other Alstone High students and supporters in the stands, jumping and cheering. Anastasia turned to me and actually pulled me into a hug, all breathless excitement, and I froze for a minute, then hugged her back, shocked.
At half-time, both teams disappeared, and I sat back in my seat.
“How are you enjoying your first school football game?” Imogen smiled at me as she opened a bottle of Coke.
“I’m… It’s fun. I want to do it again.” I was surprised to find that I meant it. Even though everything had gone wrong with Carter, I still wanted to come back. The atmosphere, the feel of being part of something—everyone around me all on the same side, willing our team to score a goal, all of us experiencing the highs and lows together—it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
“The players are good to look at, too. Aren’t they?” She smirked at me. “Got your eye on any one in particular?”
“No.” Both she and Anastasia laughed at my emphatic denial, clearly not believing me. Thankfully they decided to stop tormenting me, and the conversation turned to Anastasia’s upcoming birthday.
The second half was tense as Highnam Academy scored a goal almost as soon as the whistle blew, making the score 1-1. We had to win this. When did I start thinking of the team as a “we”? Guess I’d found my school spirit.
The clock seemed to count down so slowly as the game neared the end. Time slowed to a crawl. The referee blew the whistle, and the voice over the speakers announced there would be two minutes of added time. This was it. The whole ground was silent as Carter took up position on the side of the pitch for a free kick. I held my breath as he stepped back, then ran and sent the ball flying in a perfect arc, straight towards Kian. Kian seemed to leap into the air and headed it straight into the goal.
The stadium erupted in cheers and whistles, and as the team celebrated, I found myself cheering along with them, standing, clapping until my hands hurt. We just had to get through another forty seconds, and then we would have the win.
Three blasts of the whistle sounded, signalling the end of the game. Alstone High had done it.
I couldn’t stop smiling. Then Imogen elbowed me, hard, and my head shot around to her in surprise.
Carter, she mouthed.
I turned back to the pitch, and there he was. Now he was looking at me.
Only me.
34
I watched, trapped by his gaze as he left his teammates celebrating on the pitch and jogged towards me, right to the edge of the stands. Imogen gave me a small push forwards, until I was right in front of him, just the low barrier separating us. He was all sweaty, breathing