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I glance over at him.
There’s a knowing glint in Otto’s eyes that makes me think he saw Beck over here and knows what we were discussing. That he had seen me run over to the sidelines earlier. And…he had been there at the club Fritz took me to. Had seen me approach Sophia.
And he definitely knows about the mess that landed me here. Everyone does, even if they don’t explicitly mention it to me.
I’m pretty sure he’s not talking about soccer at all.
I’ve always had the right moves on the field.
Off it is where I make the wrong plays.
All I do is nod at Otto again before turning back to gather up the rest of my stuff.
TWENTY-FOUR
SOPHIA
“Yes!” Mia cheers as I down another shot.
I’ve lost count of which number it is, a sign I should stop.
But I’m celebrating. Today was the first Saturday in a while when I didn’t have to hear a single word about football. I don’t even know if the team won or lost today.
And I’m…happy about that. I think.
“Girl, what has gotten into you tonight?” Clara asks, giggling as I raise my empty glass in a silent cheers motion.
I’ve been going out to clubs since before I was legally allowed to.
For years, it’s been part of my identity, how I spend my weekends. I’m not the athletic Beck. I’m the fun Beck. It was a constant as I was flipping through options of what else I wanted to be known for. Overcompensating maybe for my inability to maintain interest in one guy or one hobby.
I shrug, wiping my mouth with the back of one hand and possibly smudging my lipstick. “Just in a good mood.”
I’m in a terrible mood. My classes have felt particularly boring ever since I started my internship, theory and assessing others’ techniques less interesting than taking photos myself. I still haven’t decided which photo to submit to the EPAs, the pressure to pick one mounting more every single day. I’ve been avoiding texts from Noah, who messaged me multiple times this week. And I haven’t been able to forget Will hasn’t reached out to me once.
He raced to my side when I got hit and hasn’t spoken to me since. I assured him I was fine, and I’m not his responsibility. My parents drove me home from the game after I was cleared by a team doctor, both exhibiting more concern than I’m used to seeing from either of them. I’ve sat beside them when Adler got tackled on the field, neither of them so much as flinching. But they both acted like a football to the head could have been fatal. Then Adler showed up at my apartment after the game with some of my favorite ice cream, which was sweet.
But Will hasn’t even texted. Maybe I was too harsh when he came over. I was in shock and embarrassed and trying to avoid drawing more attention than I already had. Trying to pretend like he hadn’t come over because then I wouldn’t have to deal with how it made me feel.
He still could have messaged me. And that he hasn’t makes me think he’s moved on, the same way I told him I had. I showed up to dinner at Adler and Saylor’s with another guy. I hadn’t known Will was going to be there, but I didn’t tell him that. And even not knowing, I still shouldn’t have done it. Noah was happy just to be in the same room as my dad and brother, so I don’t feel that guilty about bringing him. But it was an awkward conversation on the drive home, reverting to my I’m super busy excuse. One that didn’t dissuade him, based on the messages I’ve been getting.
The two guys who approached our table earlier come back over with a fresh round of drinks. I reach for one, even knowing that I shouldn’t. I’m getting too old for these kinds of wild nights, closer than ever to being an actual adult. Even though I can’t decide which photo to submit to the EPAs. Even though I’m still flitting from guy to guy, unable to make interest last. I don’t even remember the names of the men who came over shortly after we arrived.
“Hey, Sophia.”
I look over my shoulder, Marie’s features taking a few seconds to register. Yeah, I should definitely stop drinking.
“Marie!” I stand, giving her a big hug before introducing her around the group.
She’s met a couple of them before, on past nights out. I’ve barely seen Marie the past few weeks, my Kluvberg assignment meaning I’ve hardly been in the office or used my assigned cubicle as of late. So, I texted her, letting her know where we were going this evening in case she was free.
Right after I finish introducing Marie around, Emilia lets out a loud, dramatic gasp before announcing, “Kluvberg players are here.”
My grip tightens on my glass, but I refuse to glance over and engage. Tonight, I just want to be a girl in a bar. Not a famous footballer’s sister or daughter. Just Sophia
I focus on the guy seated across from me, who rolls his eyes. When he realizes I noticed, he winks this way. I take another sip from my glass, reassessing him with fresh interest. He was probably just annoyed Emilia hadn’t greeted him and his friend with the same level of excitement because he looks like the sporty type who might play football, but he seems to have more personality than most guys I meet. He smiles when I maintain eye contact. Hopefully, not looking over will prevent any Kluvberg players from coming over here like they did last time I was out with friends and ran into guys on the team.
“Who’s that?” Emilia asks, her tone a mixture of shock and admiration.
