More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Thirteen

I was more nervous than usual on the drive up to the Molineux. Headphones on and music blasting, I ignored my teammates as we trudged along the highway towards Wolverhampton. Fran was sitting next to me: we were in a better place than we had been the previous week, but things were still a bit uncomfortable. Today it suited me having a still slightly moody Fran at my side, though, because it meant she was just as unenthusiastic to chat as I was. 

When we pulled up at the stadium, my heart was pumping my body full of adrenalin already. After the Valencia game I'd assumed Frank would start me in the Wolves game, even if I didn't want to admit it to anyone, so it didn't come as much as a surprise when he called my name out in the starting line up on the drive. Kyle wasn't starting, which did come as a surprise considering he trained normally the whole week and claimed his ankle was fine, and with him on the bench was Elena Flores. The Spaniard had been battling with hip pain in the week, so Victor Dubois' name in place of hers wasn't too shocking, but it seemed weird heading out to warm up without my other fullback. 

I followed Sam's drills quietly and determinedly. It was hard not to let my eyes wander to the other side of the pitch: I'd avoided Emma's company in the tunnel after sprinting out before the Wolves' team gathered, but it was hard not to notice her just a few yards away. As a defensive midfielder and a left fullback, I was preparing for our paths not to cross much during the game itself, but even that thought was failing to comfort me now. 

The rest of the dressing room was merry and excitable back inside. Frank had fired us up appropriately, leaving the mood different to previous games: it felt like some kind of pressure had been lifted off us after the midweek loss and now the team was keen to just enjoy the game today. I could feel the energy around me, but the lively attitude of my teammates wasn't rubbing off on me in the same way. 

I'd just pulled my match shirt over my shoulders and was tugging my boots on when Mason came to sit down next to me. During the warm up and even the bus ride up I'd felt his gaze on me, but we hadn't spoken much today at all. Now, though, his hand rested on my shoulder. 

"How you feeling, Hart?" His voice was low, thankfully; I didn't want the rest of the team knowing how scared shitless I was. 

I shrugged one shoulder up. "I don't know. Weird." 

"You'll be fine." He squeezed my shoulder as I sat up straight. Meeting his gaze, the surety in them momentarily numbed my stresses. "It's just another game, yeah?" I found myself nodding. "I know it's crap advice, but just try not to think about her, okay?" 

"Trying," I mumbled with a weak chuckle. Understanding came over his brown eyes. 

"It'll be over before you know it and then you guys can have a laugh after the game." 

I smiled at Mason's attempt to calm me down as the bell rang loudly throughout the changing room, telling us it was time to line up. Jumping to a stand, Mase held out a hand to pull me up, too. He gave me one more reassuring smile before we followed a cheering Emiliano to the tunnel. 

 I could hear my pulse in my ears as I came to a stop behind Annika. Georgiana Alfonso, the Wolves captain, was visible next to Emiliano, but the rest of the team was still meandering out of the home changing room. My attention was focused forwards and not on the rest of the team when I felt a hand grabbing mine for a moment. 

My heart dropped as I turned to my left and saw Emma already a pace in front of me. Looking over her shoulder, her face twisted into a quick smile. I did the same, more relieved than anything else from her small gesture. A touch on my shoulder from Mason made me smile; knowing that he'd seen Emma's action, too, somehow put me more at ease. Swallowing back what agitation was left in my system, I vowed to take Mason's advice and try to play the game like any other.