sorry katie
Daan's pov:
Left foot... left foot... left foot...
Instead of switching my feet, I hopped on my left one, holding on to the crutches for dear life.
I was making a whole lot of noise despite the "ultra noiseless, soft, innovative (insert a bunch of other bullshit qualities here)" crutches that I had paid a fortune for.
"For a faster recovery," were my doctor's exact words when he had recommended me those two pieces of shiny plastic that did the same exact job as the cheaper ones elsewhere. He had thought I was clueless enough not to notice his last name on the labels.
Even though it was a clear scam and he recommended them only because it was his company, I still bought them. Anything for a faster recovery, right? Especially when you are a professional athlete and need to be back on the pitch as soon as possible.
I was going down the cold hall that smelled of medicine—the familiar chemical smell that doesn't seem to ever lose its intensity. It creeps into your nose and stays there until you forget about it, but reappears as soon as you remember what it felt like.
When I reached the door that had a "Atlete Group Therapy" sign on it, I was greeted by Juliane, the nice older lady, who looked like she knew nothing about sports.
We sat in a circle.
Well... I don't think I can be qualified to say "we," since I had seen the faces of, umm, zero people in total.
I didn't feel like looking at anyone's faces, let alone have them look at mine. I did not want to be there. I was forced to go to that group therapy thing to meet new people, who were going through the same things I was.
The therapy started with a boring introduction, that took place only because that's how similar things always start and not because it was truly necessary. One simply can't remember all those names at once. Not that I wanted to anyway.
Once it was done, people started talking and sharing stuff. I had my had down and before I knew it, I was zoned out.
Instead of listening to their voices, I found myself observing their shoes—connected pairs, creating a nearly-perfect circle in the middle of the old, humid room.
I looked at them long enough to perceive them as individual characters, separated from the bodies they were glued to.
Some pairs were connected, some were spread apart, some were put on each other, some were crossed...
All sneakers. All white. All basic.
There was nothing unique in any of those shoes. Nothing unique about those people. For the first time in a few weeks, I was glad I had that boot on my right foot that set me apart from the boring bunch.
Their shoelaces were just as plain as the shoes. White, dirty, loose. They could at least retie them, so they looked a bit neater.
Their socks...
I had a lot to observe there. The only detail that made these people differ from one another.
My eyes went over them clockwise, looking at the different socks, while making assumptions about their owners.
Striped, white, white, white, gray, white, black, no socks... no socks? Illegal. Black, gray, invisible under their pants, white... AHA.
Finally!
Someone who had chosen to differ. They were wearing two different socks, both colorful and filled with pictures. I was intrigued.
The following few sessions went by in the same manner. The only reason I kept going was because my doctor was making me and because I wanted to see what new combination of socks that girl would wear.
I didn't even remember her name. Something starting with B, I think. Not that it mattered.
The only thing that interested me were her socks. I hadn't even looked at her face to see what she looked like.
Her sock choices were immaculate, though. One better than the other. Over time, they made me wonder what that Beth girl was all about.
One day, I decided to look up and finally see what she was like. As soon as I raised my head, all I could see were her eyes.
The room was filled with people, but all I could see were her eyes, glowing brighter than the ocean under the sun.
Blue... So blue...
After that day I stopped looking at her socks and started looking at her eyes instead. Not intentionally, though. I had completely forgotten about the socks.
We made eye contact once and I was ready to dig a hole in the ground and jump into it. I quickly looked away and never looked at her direction again. Well, I mean, I tried to.
One day, about a month after the group therapy sessions ended, I was at a car-wash, waiting for my car to be done, when someone tapped my shoulder.
"Hi, Daniëlle."
I turned around, having no clue who it could be. But as soon as I looked into her eyes, I knew. There was no room for mistake. I wasn't going to be that obvious, though.
"Um, hello? Do we know each other?"
"I'm Beth from group therapy."
"Oh, right."
"I was standing over there and I noticed you and thought, 'Isn't this the foot fetish girl from therapy?'"
"Excuse me?"
She started laughing, but I saw nothing funny there.
"Haha, sorry. You were always looking at our feet during therapy, so some of us started calling you the 'foot fetish girl.'"
"I don't-,"
"I know, I know. I'm just joking. You never spoke during sessions, so we decided to make something up instead."
"I was just looking down because I didn't feel comfortable."
"Looking down at my socks."
"No?"
"Come on. It was pretty obvious that you were looking at my fun socks because they were the only bright thing in the room. I made sure to wear new ones every day to keep you entertained."
Did she really? I felt embarrassed and flattered all at the same time.
"All right, sock girl, I need to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow," she said and headed away.
SeE yOu ToMorRoW. Did she think I would be washing my car again the next day?
Her words made sense when I went to training and saw her surrounded by the girls.
"Come over here, Daan. This is Beth, our new signing," said Jordan.
"In the middle of the season?" was the only reply I could think of.
Don't get me wrong, I was glad to have her at Arsenal, but still.
"She was out of the game for some time because of an injury, so instead of going back to Sunderland, she is joining us."
"Alright, then."
I felt a bit awkward around her because of the horrible impression she had of me. So I left the room and walked to the pitch.
"Happy to have your therapy buddy as your teammate?" Beth said, catching up to me.
"Well, you're really good at football, so, I guess, I am happy."
"How do you know if I'm good or not?"
"I'm guessing."
"You've done your fair share of stalking, haven't you?"
"I didn't even know you were joining us."
"Ooohhh, so you've looked me up during the group therapy times? Cheeeky of you, Van de Donk," she said with a giggle and jogged to join Leah and Jordan.
How was she always finding ways to embarrass me? I hated the feeling of being exposed, especially by Beth.
It didn't last long, though. She stopped making playful remarks after a few days, probably because I wasn't giving the same energy back.
She was so funny and charming, and I didn't want to make a fool out of myself in front of her. I had never really cared about what people thought of me, but I cared about what she thought.
After a few sleepless nights, I finally accepted the fact that I had a crush on her. Would I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I wasn't even planning on telling my friends because that would make everything even harder.
I stuck to my plan and mission "No Beth" was going quite well. Seeing her be the absolute representation of perfect wasn't helping much, but I was smart enough to keep my distance.
All was well (?) until I got injured again during a match against Everton. I tweaked my old injury and had to stay off the pitch for a few months.
I was back to that miserable life that I had been so happy to escape.
As I was in the sequel of my previous injury, I went to the same doctor, who made me go through the same healing process as the first time. That also meant group therapy.
I told him that it was pointless and refused to go. Did he listen? No.
Being the most high-profile doctor in my area, I had no choice but to trust whatever he recommended.
I was back at that horrid hallway, hopping to the room that would feel different this time around. I wouldn't have Beth to distract me from the harshness of reality.
When I entered, I got greeted as if we were all best friends and happy to see each other. I sat down in my old spot and started looking down again.
The person in Beth's spot was wearing white Nike socks that screamed "boring" and made me hate my life even more.
When we were done with the always-the-same introductions, somebody opened the door and barged in. It was so loud and chaotic that even I looked up.
"Sorry for being late. The traffic was awful."
Beth?
What the hell was she doing there? She wasn't injured, I was sure of it. I kept up with the team news a few times a day. Well, Beth news, to be precise. Guilty.
She sat in front of me and raised her pants up a bit, so her socks would become visible. Instead of cartoon characters, one sock had riddles, while the other had math equations written on them.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed them both a lot. Who knew riddles and numbers could be that entertaining?
I was glad I was wearing my contacts or else I wouldn't be able to see anything. What a shame it would be.
After the session was over, Beth came over and helped me stand up. When we got out of the room, she said, "Like the socks? I thought doing brain exercises would be more fun and helpful than just staring at cartoon character."
"What are you doing here?"
"Curing your boredom? You're welcome."
"You didn't have to come just for this."
"That's what friends are for."
Great.
We went out and I was looking for Jordan's car, when Beth said, "I'll be taking you home today."
"Is Jordan ok?"
"Yeah. I just wanted to be your driver for today."
"Thanks. Umm, also, will you be coming to the sessions again?"
"Do you want me to?"
"I mean, it's your decision to make."
"Well, my decision fully depends on what you want."
Was I seeing the playful, flirty Beth again? I could not mess it up this time. What if she liked me back? After all, she did come here just for me.
"Yes," I replied, my voice shaking unexpectedly.
"Yes what?"
"I want you to come."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"I thought you didn't like me."
"I've never said anything like that."
"Well, but your actions have made me feel that."
"I just didn't think you liked me, so I kept my distance not to annoy you."
"Why would you think that?"
"I don't know."
"I do like you a little bit, so you can sleep peacefully at night," she said with a smile that made her eyes glow.
I couldn't help but smile myself.
As promised, Beth came to every group therapy session and even made me speak up a few times. To be honest, it made me feel a lot better.
Beth's company was the biggest light in that dark period of my life. Over the weeks, we got quite close and spent most of our free time together.
My feelings for her got stronger with her every smile, every word, every breath.
I didn't think the feelings were mutual until one day she wore socks that had "Will u be my gf?" written on them. Since I had started paying attention at therapy, I only noticed her socks by the end of the session.
I had to double-check if I had seen that right and when I looked up, I saw Beth looking at me with an apologetic face.
Before I could nod my head and say "yes," she got up and left the room.
I quickly grabbed my crutches and went after her. I had never moved that fast during the entirety of my injury.
When I got out, she was sitting on the stairs, holding her head with both her hands.
I went and flopped down on the concrete next to her. I took her hand in mine and kissed it.
"Why did you leave before hearing my answer?"
"It wasn't hard to guess."
"Are you crying?"
"No. Let's go, I'll take you home."
"Beth, look at me."
I grabbed her face with my hands and after wiping a tear away, I said, "I've been wanting to be your girlfriend ever since I saw your cool ass sock, so my answer is yes, yes, yes, a hundred times yes."
"Really?"
"Really."
She propped her forehead on my shoulder and said, "Well, that was dramatic."
"At least we got a happy ending," I replied with a chuckle, pulling her closer to me.
hiya. idk what this is but thanks for reading <3
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november 27, 2021