That pisses me off.There are a million things I want to say, but my words jumble in my throat, forcing a blockage, and honestly, it’s for the best.Fuck him.
The ref blows the whistle, and we’re off.
Instantly my team is crowded off the ball, and Kyle is running toward the goal.He nutmegs one player, goes around another, plays a delicate one-two with his winger, and then he’s shooting.Thankfully our keeper saves it, and it goes out for a corner.He’s just made our defense—that’s worth a combined £470million—look like a Sunday league team.And damn, he’s never looked hotter.Fuck.I need to get my head in the game.
The resulting corner comes to nothing, thankfully.The ball comes out to me.I chest it down and sweep it wide to Rockwell.He takes it in his stride, and now he’s running toward goal.He passes to me just outside the area, but just before I can get it, who other than Kyle has intercepted it.He’s everywhere, and the crowd responds by singing his name.
Six passes later, and they’re by our goal.One shot, and thankfully it’s saved again.I hear our keeper laugh, and that must piss off the striker.I’m sure Kyle would deck him one if he did it to him.
We go in at half-time goalless, and we’re lucky for it.Gaffer Elmstrom tells us we need more composure and that we will tire them out in the second half, and I hope he’s right, but Kyle in particular is playing out of his skin.
The second half is much the same.That is until, in the sixty-fifth minute, I’m brought down just outside the area.I say brought down, but their defender has come in through the back of me—not in a good way—and taken me out.The opposing fans think I’ve dived, and I’m sure from some angles it looks like that, but no matter what people think, I’m not that kind of player.I look up to see Kyle staring daggers at me again.
“Tell your players to stop hacking me.”I shout to him.
“I thought you liked being on the floor, you’re there enough,” he says, cold as an ice bath.What the hell is wrong with him?He’s such a stubborn prick.
The resulting free kick is squandered by Rodrigo.Honestly, they should let me take the free kicks, it’s something I’ve been working on all summer.I know I’m fresh in the team, though, and I’m grateful for the opportunity.I just want to show everyone what I can do.
In the seventy-ninth minute, my loose pass is jumped on by Kyle, of course, and he runs down on goal.Our keeper rushes out at him, and Kyle chips the ball over him, and it goes into the back of the net.Fuck.
Then I watch his celebration.His normal knee slide and badge kiss has been replaced by him…diving, and he’s looking at me while doing it.What an arse hole.
Chapter 17
Kyle
I didn’t intend to do the celebration, but I had to show him how I felt.I had to let him know that diving is only for goalkeepers—and now, sassy celebrations.The crowd goes wild, and as it turns out, it’s also the winning goal.We have finally beaten City at our home for the first time in almost ten years.
I’m jumped on by my teammates, serenaded by our fans, and now the media are hankering for a word.Fuck.I take a deep breath.
“Kyle Thurston, how does it feel to win the biggest derby match in England on your first try?”
“I’m happy the team played well.”That’s it, stay neutral, give them nothing.
“That means you’re now the leading goal scorer, one ahead of your childhood best friend, AJ.Was that celebration, a cheeky nod to him for last season?”
Fuck.
“People can interpret it whichever way they want.I’m here to score goals for the best club in the world.”
“You have certainly made an impact, that’s for sure.And speaking of impact, what do you make of the rumors there is a footballer who identifies as gay, playing in the English league?”
Fuck.What the fuck is this?I listen to my heartbeat rise.I look into the cameras and the expectant faces of the media.In the distance, I can hear my teammates still having fun with the crowd.
“I don’t think it matters in all honesty.Why would it?”
“Thank you, Kyle.You are today’s Player of the Match, enjoy.”
I give them all a tight-lipped smile and head off down the tunnel, my heart racing.Half-way down, I stumble against the side, clutching my chest.Fuck.Not now.I regulate my breathing before I feel a large hand on my back.I inhale his scent.AJ.Fuck.
“Are you okay?”he asks, his face concerned.
“I’m fine,” I say.He’s the last person I want to talk to.
“You look it too.Here, let me help you.”
He tries to maneuver his larger body so I can use him as a walking aid, but I shrug him off.
