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Chapter One

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a/n: since this story is set in england, football is another name for soccer.



WE'D LOST THE MATCH and it was my fault. I sighed as I ran a hand down my face. Maybe I should just quit and focus on my school work instead. Maybe that was the better path. I could blame our loss on a number of things, like the rain that poured heavily as we played, the referee's worryingly lack of knowledge about the rules of football, the slippery and muddy pitch thanks to the rain or even the fact that my shoelaces were untied for half the game. Although those factors did contribute to my team's loss, the major one was me. I was the reason we'd lost and I wasn't going to delude myself into thinking otherwise.

"Jensen," a voice said.

I looked up to find O'Connor standing in the doorway of the girls changing room. He'd already changed out of his football kit and was back in his school uniform. I noticed he hadn't bothered to knot his red and black school tie, leaving it to hang loosely around his neck.

"What?" I said.

"Well," he began with a soft sigh, "Finley said you might be sulking because of the match, so I came to see if you were okay...so..." he cleared his throat, "are you okay?"

I pressed my mouth into a fine line for a moment before I replied. "I'm okay."

"Sure you are," he frowned, "look, Kopov's throwing a party over at his house and I think you should come."

"We lost," my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "why is he throwing a bloody party?"

"To cheer us up!" O'Connor beamed at me as he threw his arms in the air, "Ah, c'mon El! It'll be fun! There's pizza and alcohol and Xbox."

Any other time, I'd never have passed up the opportunity for free pizza and Xbox but I just wasn't in the mood today. I wanted to go home and crawl up in my bed where I could sleep for a hundred years. I wanted to forget today had ever happened.

"Nah," I said, turning to my locker. I pulled out my towel and rubbed it on my face, since I was soaked through from the pounding rain.

In the past two months, I'd been a mixture of stressed, apprehensive and excited for the match today. Mr. Clarke, the coach for our football team, had been working us like dogs as soon as he found out we would be playing against St. Bernadette's for the finals. He was determined to get us into fighting shape, to be the best we could be so that we would come out on top. It looked like all his hard work had gone to waste.

O'Connor gave me look that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. He stepped further into the girls' locker room and said, "El, it wasn't your fault."

"Don't lie to me, O'Connor," I said rolling my eyes. I kept my gaze locked on the spot of dirt on the wall, I couldn't bring myself to look at him for some reason.

"Damn it, Elliot, none of the guys blame you," he said, "the weather is bloody crap for one and you know that referee was an arsehole, I mean, one of the St. Bernadette guys tripped me up three times and the referee did fuck all."

"But, but," I sputtered, turning to face him with wide blue eyes, "I had the penalty shot, and I missed, I bloody missed! How the hell-"

"Nobody gives a damn about the penalty shot, I think you played brilliantly!" he grinned at me, "you scored two goals El. You were absolutely brilliant today!" he chuckled softly, and then scratched the back of his neck and glanced away, "well, you're always brilliant but you get my point."

I let out another sigh. My gaze fell to the floor, "O'Connor, it's just..."

It's just that football had been my life for so long now it had seeped into my blood and I couldn't see myself doing anything else with my time. Today had been my chance to prove to Mr. Clarke that I had what it took to be the team captain but I'd royally fucked that up. If I succeeded I would be the first female captain for our school's official football team and I just know my dad would have been so proud to see another Jensen take the lead.

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