Something Like Casual

I'm Here But I'm Not.

“Let me know if you need a ride later.”

“Yeah… okay.”

They both knew she wouldn’t ask.

She stepped out the door first, Mariana emerging from the spare room behind her, avoiding Leah’s eyes, cheeks pink with guilt or nerves or both.

Perfect cover story.
Terrible reality.

And somewhere deep inside, under the heartbreak, under the fatigue, she already knew:

This situation was going to break her before it fixed anything.

Mariana barely made it through the warm-up before Beth started staring.

Not the casual, “are you alive?” check-in stare Beth gave everyone.
The best friend from youth camps stare.
The stare that said: you can fool the whole world, but not me, babe.

Mariana tried to shake it off, tied her hair again (for the fifth time in ten minutes), bounced on the balls of her feet, injected her usual fake chaos into the rondo. But Beth still watched her like she was a balloon about to pop.

After training, Beth jogged over, swinging her bib around her finger like she wasn’t absolutely about to interrogate her.

“You okay?” Beth asked lightly.

Mariana forced a smirk. “Define okay.”

“Right.” Beth stopped her bib-spinning, crossed her arms, and tilted her head. “Talk.”

“Beth-”

“You’re my best mate. Don’t even try it.”

Mariana’s shoulders slumped. The bravado crumbled. “It’s just… lack of game time. It’s getting to me.”

Beth softened immediately, eyes flicking over Mariana’s face like she could see all the cracks she was trying to hide.

“It’s not just that,” Beth murmured.

Mariana wet her lips. “Football’s usually the one thing that calms my brain. And now-” She tapped her temple lightly. “It’s never quiet in here. ADHD’s on overtime. Overthinking everything. And pretending I’m fine is… exhausting.”

Beth nodded slowly. She understood more than most, years of growing up in England youth teams together, sharing rooms, sharing cups of tea and half-trauma, half-ridiculous humour. Of course she understood.

And Beth hated the truth forming in her own chest.

If game time was gone…
If Arsenal couldn’t give her what she needed…

She might leave.

First Viv.
Now maybe Mariana.
And Beth couldn’t say it out loud, because saying it made it real.

“Well,” Beth breathed out, putting her arm around Mariana’s shoulder, “come round mine. Me and Steph’ll take your mind off it. Bit of a reset, yeah? Bring Leah too if you want?”

Mariana’s heart thudded hard, painful.
Bring Leah?
The woman she’d kissed two weeks ago?
The woman's-now-ex was currently breaking quietly in their flat?

“Oh, uh… she's got a Teams meeting,” Mariana lied smoothly. “New contract thing. Advertising. You know…”

Beth snorted. “Yeah. Everyone wants the captain advertising for them.”

Mariana forced a laugh, thin, brittle.

“Let me just tell her she doesn’t need to wait for me,” she said, escaping before Beth’s eyes got too soft again.