A Life Less Average

twenty-one

lewis 

It had been two weeks since Poppy had got the job at the cafe, and for two weeks we barely hung out. I didn't see her at school, except for our Monday tutoring sessions and a few times between classes when we were in the same corridor. Now that she had bright blue hair, it was a lot easier to spot her. She was essentially a blue beacon. 

It didn't bother me that she had a job, but before we had mostly relied on Friday nights out, or a couple of hours through the weekend to spend some time together, since I had tutoring, football practice and matches through the week.

I was happy that she was happy though. And I was happy that her throwing cash at her mum every week kept her off her back. I just wished it was easier to spend time together. 

Tonight's game was across town at another school. I had invited Poppy and Faye, but they were both busy. Which meant they didn't want to stand in the cold, cheering on a team that was ninety percent douche bag. 

Paul and I sat together in the minivan on the way to the Beckford High. We had played them before, a couple years ago, back when their sports department had been somewhat decent. In the years since then, there had been a sufficient lack of funding and PE teachers and their team could barely kick a ball, never mind hit the back of the net. 

Our team was hopeful. The minivan was full of cheer and pep, and I could immediately understand why Poppy didn't want to be here. It was the complete opposite of the environment she was comfortable in. A van full of sweaty boys pumping themselves up wasn't everybody's cup of tea. 

Paul was slumped against the window, rather than joining in with everybody else. 

"Oi," I said, shoving him. "What's wrong?" 

"Andrea broke up with me," he said quietly. 

"What?" 

"Yeah. She said she needed to concentrate on her studies. But according to her Snapchat story she's been out like every night. So much for studying."

"Ah shit. That sucks." 

"I thought she liked me," he groaned. 

"She did. Anybody could see that." 

"I wasn't enough for her." 

"It was just wrong timing," I told him. "There's plenty of other girls out there. And you're the star of the football team. Hell, there'll be loads of girls at the match who would love to be your girlfriend, never mind the entire planet." 

That seemed to perk him up. The van turned onto a small road that led us to the front of the school. Unlike our school, which was positioned on a main road, Beckford was in the middle of nowhere. It was a fifteen minute walk to the main road, and hardly accessible by car, which meant that the teachers and students with cars had to park elsewhere. We were lucky Coach was ruthless with his driving, and had forced the minivan down the uncertain road to the school's entrance.

There was a fairly big turnout. Hundreds of people stood on the sidelines cheering for their team as we played. 

We won the match, four-nil. I scored two goals, and Harry scored the other two. 

As we shook hands with the Beckford team, people from the crowd ran onto the pitch. Harry's girlfriend ran straight towards him and he caught her in a hug that almost knocked them both to the floor. 

Once upon a time, my parents had been amongst the crowd. But nowadays they stayed home for small games, like today. It was only when we reached the big leagues, playing for best in the county, or best in the country, did they take notice. 

Maisy used to be our head cheerleader. Self-appointed obviously, since our school didn't have a cheerleading team. Her and her friends would stand at the front of the crowd and make up different cheers to shout throughout the games. 

I couldn't imagine Poppy putting herself at the centre of attention like that. 

Paul and I started cleaning up the mess by our bench. Water battles and empty packets of crisps that had been dropped during the game. Coach was by the minivan talking to Beckford's coach. I could tell he wanted to get going, but the team was still busy fighting their way through congratulations and high-fives.

"You looked really good out there," a voice said, pulling me away from the rubbish bag I was slowly filling. 

It was Rebecca. The girl was relentless.

"Thanks," I said, standing up straight. Paul continued behind me, making disgusted noises as he grabbed the litter. 

"You should go pro," she said, twirling a strand of her long blonde hair between her fingers. 

I laughed. "D'ya think?"

"Definitely." 

She was probably the only spectator that wasn't wearing hiking boots or wellies. The field was muddy and damp, but she had slipped her feet into a small pair of Converse as though it was a summer afternoon. I had to give it to her, though, they were still pretty clean, as though she had spent the last ninety minutes watching where she was standing.

She tugged her coat tighter around her body to stop the cold air nipping at her body. Now that I had stopped running, it was starting to hit me. I looked towards Coach, who had stopped his conversation and was loading up the minivan. 

I shook my head. "Nah. I'm nowhere near good enough."

When I was younger it had been my dream. I joined the under five's football club and was hooked. Since then, I'd played every week. I was good. I knew I was good. But I wasn't the best. And I guess my heart just wasn't in it as much anymore. I still loved playing, but going pro was no longer my dream.

I had fallen in love with science in my first year of secondary school. When Mr Charles had brought out the Bunsen burners for the first time and we had been given the chance to light the blue flames and experiment with various exothermic reactions, I had been hooked. 

Of course it wasn't just the explosions that I loved. It was understanding how the world worked. How the universe worked. How we worked. 

I was no longer hooked on being the world's best footballer. I was hooked on the universe and trying to understand it. 

"So," she was trying to continue the conversation as I slowly backed towards the minivan. "Did you have fun at the bonfire?" 

I thought of the look she had given Poppy when we arrived. 

"Yeah. We really enjoyed it," I said. "Did you?"

"It was okay. I think last year's was better, though."

"Yeah?" 

I couldn't remember what happened last year, other than people got drunk and danced. Obviously we had been Year 12s, and we had been surrounded by the Year 13s. The Year 13s had taken charge. It was their last year at school and their final football bonfire. They had planned so many activities and had made the most of it. 

Looking back, the only thing I would remember about my final football bonfire would be Poppy's blue hair, the clearing, and going back to my house. 

"I though this year's bonfire was the best one yet," I said, my lips twitching into a smile.

"It's the year of lasts," she said. "Last bonfire. Last winter dance. Last Christmas show. We have to make each party memorable."

The winter dance was in two weeks and Poppy hadn't mentioned it. I didn't know if they were her thing. Something told me it wasn't, but I didn't want to miss out on what Rebecca said: our lasts. 

"Yeah. I guess we do." 

I would have to find a way to convince Poppy to go. Or go without her.