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“Kate!” I cringe at the sound of my name, worried that the media bloodhounds have found me again. Footsteps pound the ground behind me and as much as I don’t want to face them again, I can’t let them sneak up on me. I turn around and exhale in relief.

“Bloody hell, Jenna!” It’s only my teammate and soon to be kicked to death midfielder. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Kate. So, is it true?” She slings a friendly arm around my shoulders. I know she doesn’t understand that I don’t want to talk about Dax. That doesn’t stop the urge to tell her and everyone else on earth to piss off from catching in my throat.

Sighing, I gently extract myself from her embrace, using the excuse of opening the athletic center doors. “I’m not discussing it, Jenna. I’m sorry, but it’s not something I talk about.”

“What?” she shrieks. “You’re dating Dax from Sphere of Irony and you don’t want to talk about it? Hell, I’d be wearing a t-shirt or take out an ad describing everything I’ve done to his hot body! Yummy!”

I must be scowling, because Jenna’s eyes widen and her mouth drops. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Kate. You should be proud if it’s true, that’s all.”

At least Jenna left out the bit where I’m too homely and poor for someone as perfect as Dax.

We reach the locker room and I hesitate, not wanting everyone else to overhear and think they’re welcome to join the conversation. “That’s the problem, Jenna. I’m a real person. Dax is a real person. He’s not an object to brag about. I have actual feelings that shouldn’t be laid out just to be trod upon by everyone and anyone.”

“I guess I didn’t think…” Jenna trails off. I can’t tell if she’s contrite or secretly rolling her eyes at me in her mind.

Before I can respond, Coach Russo barks at me from down the hall. “Campbell! My office!”

Jenna slips away while I’m looking at Coach. Wonderful.

“Yes?”

“Come in. Close the door, Kate.”

I comply quietly, not meeting his stern gaze.

“Sit.”

The chair is still cleaned off from the other day, so I sink down into it.

“Why did you miss practice yesterday?”

Oh.

“Sorry, Coach.” I can’t bring myself to look up, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Kate, I’m not mad, though I should be. Honestly, it’s good you skipped.” That gets my attention. Coach Russo doesn’t look angry, but weary, like me. “Those reporters were here again looking for you.” He lets out a big sigh. “I’m not going to ask, Kate. It’s not my business. But I need you dedicated to the team. We have a better than average chance of winning the Division I cup this year. I need all of my players focused on soccer without any distractions. Am I making myself clear?”

Nodding, my eyes drop back to my hands, which are shaking. I’m a distraction. At least, the pack of hungry paparazzi following me is.

“Go get changed. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Without saying a word, I bolt out of Coach’s office, not wanting to break down in front of him. He laid it out there in no uncertain terms—football has to come first—no distractions, no excuses. That means no paparazzi, no gossip, no private life interfering with the team.

Can I keep Dax separate from football? It would be beyond difficult but I think I can do it. Without footy, and my scholarship, I’ll be back in Hackney. Then I’ll really have nothing.

My breath hitches in my chest as I force the growing knot of anxiety out of my throat to settle uncomfortably in my stomach. I can do this. I can talk to Dax about keeping things hidden better from now on. He’ll understand that I have to have my priorities right. Without footy, I can’t afford school. Without school, I’m back in my parents’ dismal flat in Hackney. No way am I going back there.

By the time I hit the locker room, everyone’s already kitted up and down by the doors leading to the pitch. I hurry to get changed, rushing out to meet up with the rest of the team. I pretend not to notice every single head turn my way as I approach.

No distractions.

“Okay, okay,” Coach Russo claps his hands to get our attention. Better they stare at him than me.

“Ladies! This is it, the big game! Win this and we win the PAC-10 and are most likely a number one seed in the West for the tournament. Don’t let them get to you out there. I expect the best out of each one of you.”

Everyone cheers in excitement while I think about how I never turned my mobile on this morning and haven’t talked to Dax since I bolted from his flat yesterday.

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