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“It’s James,” he calls back matter-of-factly.
“Close enough.” I take a small step closer. “Can I ask you a question?”
He gulps back some reluctance before nodding his head.
“Tell me.” I fold my arms across my chest in question. “Do you get laid often?”
His face turns redder than my cousin’s at her thirteenth birthday party when she got her period for the first time. Not quite the birthday surprise she’d been hoping for.
“Hmm, that’s what I thought. You see, Jerry, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” I lower my voice to a whisper as I lean into the group. “In order to make calls, you actually have to be on the field. And by the sound of it, you’re still on the bench, sweetie.”
I pull back at the sound of James’ friends uproaring in laughter, smacking against his chest as he purses his lips.
“Oh, and word of advice,” I add, spinning on my heel to face them again. “Most girls like it a little rough.”
I smirk, flipping my hair over my shoulder and turning to grab my bags as they remain in place, clearly taken aback by my comment.
“Now, if you’re all done with this little parade, these bags aren’t going to carry themselves.”
James folds his arms across his chest. “What makes you think we’re going to help you after that?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” I pull out my phone, typing in “schools in Crawley” into my search engine. “I wonder what school you guys go to? I bet they’d be quite disappointed to know thatyou’re skipping class. What did you say your name was again?James?—”
“We’ll help!” James rushes his way to my side, his voice much more sheepish than it had been a moment before.
I can’t help but grin as the rest of the boys make their way over, reaching for my suitcases. “Good decision!” I clap my hands. “Now, chop, chop. I don’t have all day. I haven’t updated my followers in, like, an hour. That cab ride was a total drag.”
“Thanks, guys! You’re the best!”I call out after the boys as they head out the door one by one an hour later.
“See you, Delaney,” they respond—we’re on a first-name basis now. “You give us a ring if anyone gives you trouble, alright? We’ll be sure to sort them out.”
I playfully roll my eyes. It’s nice to know that there's someone here already in my corner, but truthfully, I’m not sure if this group is capable of a whole lot of damage, so to speak. “I will.” I nod, waving my phone in the air to get their attention. “But remind me, how do I add that little plus sign before I call?”
They chuckle, and instead of showing me how to do it, they playfully save a number in my contacts as “Jerry James” before they leave my apartment, which, apparently, I need to start calling a flat.
Not only had I convinced them to help me carry my bags upstairs, I’d also convinced them to help me unpack. I’m on quite a roll with this persuasiveness lately.
I flop down onto my bed with my phone in hand, attempting to catch up on everything I’d missed on the flight, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything since that disgusting mid-flight meal I was offered.
Opening up my web browser, I search for the closest quick-service food spot, rushing out of the building once I’ve found a place that sounds promising and doesn’t require too much walking.
It’s August and 50 degrees Fahrenheit outside. It was 88 in Houston when I left. Needless to say, I’m absolutely freezing. I wrap my coat around myself tightly and follow my phone’s GPS down the street.
After a whole five minutes of walking, I stop when I notice a building with a bright blue poster plastered on the side facing the street.
I’m compelled to get a closer look as I travel slightly off course, realizing that the text on the poster says “Crawfield Football Club.”
My eyes light up in excitement. So,thisis where I’ll be spending my time for the next three months. Had I found it? Or, had it found me? Or, is this town so small that it would virtually be impossible for it to have gone unnoticed? The fateful part of my identity wants to believe the earlier—but the logical part finds sense in the latter.
I cross the road and rush towards the front entrance of what I can now tell is a soccer stadium.Stadiumis a generous word, given some of the venues I’ve had the pleasure of watching shows in, but still, around here, this feels huge.
It’s crazy, isn’t it? That the smallest of towns will allocate such a considerable amount of real estate towards kicking a ball around.
Gosh…now I’m starting to sound like my dad.
The parking lot to the stadium is pretty empty, with the occasional car occupying some spots. It’s also eerily quiet around here, so much so that it’s almost peaceful.
When you grow up in the most populated city in Texas, the sound of dense city noise becomes customary.
