𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 - 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃

𝐗𝐈𝐈

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ °

MARCUS GASPS as the clip entitled Kalani Sinclair Embarrassing Players pans out on the laptop screen in front of us, watching me from a year ago swipe the ball from right under a Liverpool player as she scans the pitch for a pass to play. She'd been unaware that possession had just been stolen from her and went to kick a ball that was no longer there.

The shouts around the pitch by her teammates helped her realise she was about to kick thin air, so she stopped in her tracks and turned to see me running the opposite way with the ball at my feet; the cornrows that I had at the time cascading down my back swaying from side to side.

We watch as the girl— Hodson, number fourteen— begins the chase in attempt to get the ball back from me, but the only thing she was successful in doing was committing a foul that lead to a United free-kick which Katie Zelem scored.

And that was the last thing she'd seen before being subbed off.

Sure, it wasn't as embarrassing as the scenes that we'd seen beforehand in the video, like when I megged the same player four successive times or when I dropped another player without even touching the ball I had in possession, but all of them as a collective makes Marcus pause the video and flicker his gaze from the screen to me, to the screen and back again.

He holds eye contact with me and after ten long seconds of silence, he bursts out into laughter. "You did not do that, Kalani Sinclair."

And his smile is so contagious that it's impossible not to laugh along with him. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up, and almost all of his pearly whites are on display.

I retort, "You literally just watched me do that, Marcus Rashford."

"You're so cheeky," he chuckles, eyebrows slightly raised.

"What did you expect to see in a video called Kalani Sinclair Embarrassing Players?"

"I dunno, a couple step-overs? Maybe an elastico here and there."

I scoff, "Step-overs? Anybody can do those."

He laughs, "I know. I just didn't expect to see you ruining people's careers for shits and giggles."

"Well, it's your fault."

"Me?" He asks incredulously.

"Yes, you," I chuckle. "I get a lot of inspiration from the United boys. You especially. You always twist people inside and out before you score just because you feel like it."

He cackles, "What? No I don't."

"Remember that game against Brighton? You literally made Ben White eat grass twice in one attack."

He lets out an airy chuckle, looking up to the ceiling as if he's recalling the moment. "Oh yeah."

"See? You're just as cheeky— actually, way more cheeky— than me."