Page 2 of Take Her On

“Fuck,” Maya exhaled, breath fogging the window. She wiped at it with her sleeve, pressing her head closer to verify the sighting. It was definitely her. If her short blonde hair didn’t give her away—styled in that annoying, perfectly imperfect way—her red jacket certainly did.

Maya’s eyes narrowed at the sight. It was the same red of the Harriers—their university rivals. Maya’s university team had always come second to the Harriers: the arrogant, ruthless pains in her arse for the last three years. They’d been the only thing standing in the way of Maya finally leading her team to championship victory, and this year, her final year of university, was her last chance. She’d trained hard all summer, bothering Coach with her tactics and theories over email…and now the Harriers’ star striker was moving across the street.

Her head clunked against the glass, nostrils flaring as she watched Jamie Mellor swagger towards the house, a large cardboard box balanced in her arms.

And now she was her neighbour. Carly’s replacement.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Unless…

Maya smeared her sleeve across the window again, knowing Mum would scold her later for leaving marks on the glass. She waited, trying to ignore her stupid reflection and the look of disbelief painted across her face.

Jamie, or someone who looked unbelievably like Jamie—maybe she has a twin?—jogged out the door, throwing a comment towards one of the burly movers that made him laugh.

Maya narrowed her eyes even more, feeling the strain running along the bottom of her jaw. Maybe she was just helping some people move? Some random couple who was twice her age? Right?

Before she could try to convince herself of this poorly constructed thought, or revisit the twin theory, those two blue eyes lifted and met hers.

She stumbled backwards, tripping over her laptop cable and crashing into the door. Her lamp fell on top of her, followed by a jar of pens. Ouch.

“Maya?” Grandma called from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you alright?”

She took a moment to assess the damage. Nothing was broken, her room was a mess—but what’s new?—and Jamie Mellor had just caught her spying on her through a gap in the curtains.

“I’m fine,” Maya shouted back, catching her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look fine. Her brown eyes looked tired and puffy as if they hadn’t seen a full night’s sleep in ages, and her dark hair was a tangled nest, matted and messy from sleep. She brushed her cold hands over her face, returned the lamp to the side table, and gathered the pens that littered the floor.

An old photo of herself and Carly had untacked itself from the mirror. Maya picked it up off the carpet, eyes lingering on their matching smiles, before carefully sticking it back into place. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d laughed like that.

“Maya!” Grandma called again. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please! Down in a minute.”

Being back home definitely brought its problems, but Grandma made the absolute best cups of tea. And a great cup of tea could solve almost anything.

Maybe even the dread that was seeping its way into Maya’s gut.

Playing centre-back, Maya was always stuck marking Jamie. Flashbacks of the past few years blinked behind her eyelids. The teasing, taunting comments that got under her skin, the crushing feeling of losing to her year after year. How easily Jamie had bypassed her to score the winning goal last season.

“Thank you for making that so easy.”

Jamie had wrestled Maya off the ball, literally sitting her down on the turf after outplaying her, to slot the winning goal into the net.

The egotistical woman even had the cheek to blow Maya a kiss as they lifted the trophy. The memory made her seethe.

Once everything was back where it belonged, she crept towards the window and peered out into the street. No one was there. No blonde-haired striker putting the ball through her legs and leaving her on her arse.

But the sick feeling lingered in Maya’s gut, promising trouble on the horizon.

Chapter Two

Maya

Grandma eyed Maya from across the table, her snow-white curls springing wildly around her face. She dunked a biscuit, swirling it in the steaming liquid before tapping twice on the rim of her cup. Maya scooped her hand into the biscuit tin to retrieve one of the few chocolate digestives remaining and copied her movements. Dunk, swirl, tap twice.

“You know how your mother feels about those chocolate ones.” Grandma raised her wiry brows, wiping her fingers on the red handkerchief she always kept nearby. Maya never understood the need for a handkerchief. Why would you want to carry all the germs and mess around with you all day?

Maya waited until she’d swallowed the last of the chocolate biscuity goodness before responding. “What Mum doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” She reached for another.