Page 6 of Five Things I See in You

***

In our third league game, I set up a goal in the twelfth minute, once again beating the defense for pace. Later, sometime after the hour mark, with the game tied, I do something stupid. I try to beat the defender with the same move again, even though Jade is wide open ten yards away, calling for the ball. I lose possession. The counterattack ends with our keeper getting down low to knock the ball out for a corner, which we somehow manage to defend. We end up winning 2–1, and back in the locker room I get one of Hades’ legendary dressing-downs.

My dad’s message arrives just as I’m about to go to bed.

“If you’re going to play like that, you might as well not take the field. That could have cost your team a goal. You were lucky their striker is useless. I’ve emailed you a full analysis of the game.”

He doesn’t say hi, or we miss you, or any of the things a normal dad would say. Not a single word about my assist. I feel like picking up the phone and telling him that the other team’s striker is anything but useless, she’s one of the best in the world, and he knows it perfectly well. But I’d rather not argue, because I’ll end up crying like always and he’ll tell me I’m still acting like a little girl.

So I put the dirty clothes in the washing machine and toss and turn in bed until the early hours.

Chapter 5

Jordan

“She’s lost nine pounds since she arrived. I can’t get that number out of my head,” Tessa insists, showing me the results of Noa’s latest medical checkup.

“It could be down to a lot of factors, changes in her diet and…”

“Her neck and back are incredibly tight. A couple of sessions on the treatment table won’t fix that. Physically, she’s fit to play. That’s not what worries me. I asked her if she was sleeping well and she said yes. But I don’t believe it. Jordan, you know players always say they’re fine, and that girl isn’t.”

For some reason, as I listen, I remember the welcome party. That day, Noa smiled at everyone while strangling the strap of her bag with her left hand.

“Do you watch her train?”

“Almost every day. She’s running as much as she did in her first week. Maybe more,” I admit.

“That’s not always a good sign.”

“I know. It almost never is,” I agree. “But at first, you don’t see the damage. Not until she breaks.”

“So what do we do? Because the problem is she’s performing. One goal and three assists in three league games. As long as she’s performing, Drummond won’t want us changing anything, especially after what they paid to sign her,” Tessa protests. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“Follow-up sessions are voluntary. The player has to request them. If I call her in myself, I’ll be going against the protocol I wrote,” I explain while I think about how to talk to her without making it too obvious.

“Okay, let me know if you manage anything,” she says before leaving.

***

Jade made an appointment with me a few days ago. She didn’t explain what for; with her that means it’s important. She arrives on time, sits very straight in the chair, with her hands on her knees, and gets right to the point.

“My pregame good-luck ritual just keeps getting longer,” she confesses. “It used to be a couple of things and now I barely have time to finish it. Every time I add something and play well, I feel like I have to keep doing it. I’m scared that if I leave it out, I’ll start playing badly. I check my shin guards, I count the steps from the locker room to the tunnel, I step onto the field with my right foot, I keep a coin in my sock. It used to be something that relaxed me. Now, if I don’t finish it, I go out on the field feeling like I’ve forgotten something and everything will go wrong.”

I listen to her, or I think I do, because while she talks I’m thinking about how I can get close to Noa and get her to open up to me without it being obvious.

“Jordan!” she protests, her hands going still as she fixes me with a stare. “You’re not listening to me.”

She doesn’t say it angrily. Jade never gets angry, but she says things in such a cutting way that it throws you off. I suggest we pick this up another day, when I can give her my full attention, and she nods, picks up her tracksuit jacket from the back of the chair and even thanks me on her way out.

***

On Wednesday I walk over to the sideline at the end of training. Hades blows the whistle, the group heads off the field toward the showers, and Noa stays a while longer taking free kicks, all alone, placing the balls on the wet grass. Since Hades chewed her out for losing the ball in a game, she’s been very quiet, or so they tell me, and she spends even more time than before taking free kicks after sessions. I wait for her before she goes into the main building.

“How are you settling in with the team?” I ask as she passes by me.

“Fine,” she answers, a little curtly. “All my teammates are helping me a lot.”

She smiles as she says it, but it’s forced—the same smile she gave everyone at the party. She’s gripping the ball bag tightly and her fingers are trembling a little.