Chapter 53 - Bradie Van Dyk

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It was now late February, and the reason was rolling along. We were at the top of the table, with Arsenal sharing the same number of points with us. We had a better goal difference, but only by a few. It was going to be a tight race.

Sam Mewis had messaged me that she was now in England. She had come over to celebrate her sister's birthday with her.

Sam: hey Ettie, im in london for a few days, you still okay to get a coffee with me?

Ettie: of course. Let's meet.

As I made my way to the coffee shop, I was nervous. I was nervous about what was to happen. Sam wasn't the issue, but rather the topic I was scared she wanted to discuss.

When I walked through the cafe's doors, I saw Sam sitting in the corner. She wasn't by herself though. A dark haired girl sat beside her. From the back, I couldn't make out who it was, but when Sam looked up and saw me, the girl turned around also.

It was Bradie Van Dyk.

I was surprised that Manchester United's American superstar striker was here. Why would she be here? What would she and Sam Mewis want?

Sam stood up, as I came to the table, and gave me a hug.

"Hey Ettie, how have you been?" She asked.

"I've been pretty good, thanks for asking," I replied.

"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chair beside her, "Ettie, this is Bradie." The striker looked at me, and smiled softly.

"Hi," she said, nervously. She was picking at her fingernails, making them bleed.

"Do you want something to drink?" Sam Mewis asked me, but I shook my head, knowing I did not need another coffee that morning.

"Is everything alright?" I asked both of them. Sam looked at Bradie, who was still staring down at her hands on the table.

"Bradie, do you want me to?" Sam asked. Bradie nodded, still not making eye contact with either of us.

"Ok, Ettie, I'm going to try and say this in one go and I will try and tread lightly but please let me know if I am pushing too far," Sam started to say, and I nodded, still very confused. "All three of us have played under Trent Dyson." Trent Dyson. My old City manager. "We'd like to talk to you about him."

"Okay..." I replied.

"I played for him while I was at City, you played for him at City too, and Bradie played for him while she was at college in the US," Sam continued to say, "and we'd like to know what happened to you."

"What happened to me?" I asked, "what do you mean?" I knew what they meant, but I needed clarification.

"We'd like to know about the abuse you received," Sam then said. A pit dropped in my stomach - how did they know?

"I'm sorry guys, but I don't know what you're talking about," I answered, in denial about what they were saying.

"Please, Ett," Sam said, "I promise you're safe here." I looked at Bradie, who was looking seemingly more distressed each time I denied.

"What's this about?" I asked.

"Closure," Bradie replied, looking up from her hands, "it's about closure."

I took a deep breath, trying to regain control over my chest.

"I was 18," I started to say, "he had just taken over as Manager of City, and I was young. I was vulnerable, and seemingly naive. I was suffering with a pretty shitty eating disorder, and still trying my best at training, and in games. When I first opened up to Trent about my struggles, he ignored them. He said I needed to get over it and start being a professional athlete. I was pretty embarrassed. It was like I was only a player to him and not a person, especially not a young, impressionable teenager. He'd always shout at me on the pitch, pushing me harder than he pushed others. He'd never let me miss a training session, even if it was for a psychologist appointment or to meet with my nutritionists. He tormented me throughout my time at City. He made me hate football." As I said this, I couldn't look at either of them. I had never opened up like this to anyone besides Keira before, and I wasn't even quite sure why I was telling them.

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