I had always been good at lying, I have come to realise. I could always think quickly on my feet, and warp my sense of reality and others too. It was easy. It was simple. For me, if I needed to cover something up, or tell someone something they wanted to hear, I could do it. I am always able to do it.
I knew that it was a bad thing to be good at. I knew that being a pathological liar was not something someone should be proud of, but I didn't really care. If I had been drinking, and Ellie found me, I would just tell her I was tired. Or if I had got a red card at my football game, and Dad asked me how it went, I would tell him I scored. I never wanted to disappoint people, so I would just lie instead.
So, I have been lying, for a while now. I have been lying to Mum, Finn, Grandma, and even myself, and this lie, that I had been repeating, was one I wasn't proud of. But, in my defence, it wasn't about me. It never was. It was about her. It was about Eden.
I had seen Eden in the past 12 years. After she moved away to boarding school, I had seen her, but it wasn't what they would think. It wasn't purposeful. It was out of chance. It was out of luck. Pure, and utter luck. The first time at least.
Five Months Earlier
I was in the hospital, after my recent episode. Cat had just left me, as she had a game later that evening against Wolfsburg, the final game of the group stage in the Champions League. I was scrolling my phone, knowing that in a few hours they would release me. In a few hours I would be out of the hospital and back to the apartment. I would try to talk to Ellie, tell her that I was sorry. Tell her that I didn't mean to do what I did. It was all a mistake. It was all an accident.
I was supposed to go home, but I didn't want to. I knew I had to make it right, between Ellie and me. I didn't want to get back together with her, I knew this was not in the best interest of her or me, but I didn't want everything to fall through. I wanted to stay here. I wanted to be happy at Lyon, with Ellie, as a friend. Only a friend.
I lay in the bed, a few hours later, fluids being injected into my body. It felt nice to be hydrated once again. To feel the fluids racing and mind regenerating. I didn't watch the Wolfsburg game, and only followed the scoreline. We won: 2-1. I saw a headline reading there was an injury at the game, but I didn't see who it was, or what would happen to the player.
As I had my earbuds in, listening to the music that rang in my ears, I saw something. Someone walked past. Her shaggy brown hair was too similar. Her lean, but short body reminded me of someone I once remembered. It couldn't be, right? The woman was wearing a Wolfsburg kit, but... it couldn't be. Right?
I jumped out of the bed, grabbing the drip that was thankfully on wheels next to me. I was still in my Lyon kit from the previous night, having not changed yet even though I was supposed to. I wanted to pull the needles out of my arm, but I didn't have time. I had to run.
I followed the woman for a few moments, trying to work out who it could be. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her. I was hallucinating. These fluids were making me go insane. Maybe I was still drunk.
The woman went into the hospital room, and I was soon stopped by a nurse.
"Etes-vous d'accord, Tippah?" the nurse asked me.
"Oui, oui," I replied, pushing past her, and opening the door. The woman was sitting beside the girl in the bed. I recognised the girl in the bed straight away: it was Jill Roord. She was an easy face to remember. Her blonde hair, and seemingly Dutch characteristics were so poignant, and distinct.
"Hallo?" Jill said, as she saw me. "You alright, Tippah? I thought you were sick. That's why-" I didn't listen to the rest of what the Dutch player was saying. Instead, the woman sitting beside her turned around, and, when I saw her face, I knew it was her. I knew exactly who it was. There was no doubt. There was no question. I knew. I definitely knew. She smiled at me, and I sighed, my heart finally relaxing. She was alive, and that was the greatest relief of them all.
Four Months Earlier
"What are you doing here?" I asked her, as I sat at a bar in North London the night before I was set to get my medical. I could see the bartender checking me out, and although the confidence boost was nice, she soon looked away when she saw the short, brunette come up behind me.
"I had a few days off," she replied. "We don't start up again for a few days."
"Well, you came to London? Didn't think you would make the effort," I replied, taking another sip.
"You're being like Dad," she said. That made me put the drink down. That was no a comparison I wanted.
"Sorry," I replied.
"Just, no drinking, at least while I'm here," she asked.
"Okay."
"Did you go back? I saw the obituary."
"Yeah," I replied.
"Did you go to the funeral?" she asked.
"No," I replied, once more.
"Did the others?" she asked.
"Not sure," I responded. "Bindi and Darcy probably did, but I haven't seen them in ages to ask. Finn did, but only because Jemma made him and you know what they're like."
"They serious then?"
"Yeah, they have been for a while." I always forgot that she never met Jemma. In my head, Jemma and Finn had been together for longer than I could even remember, but I had to remember that she had been gone longer than that.
During this time, we promised each other a few things.
One: no telling anyone. Not a soul. She had her new life, and I had my own. We didn't need the world to know.
Two: our lives were separate, and that would be how it would go. No she and I. No her and me.
And Three: we'll always be family.
She soon left, leaving me alone with my drink. The bartender soon walked over, smiling at me.
"What brought you to London?" the bartender asked, and only a few moments later, a certain English captain walked through the door, changing so much. Changing, actually, everything.
Two Months Earlier
We were playing Wolfsburg in the Champions League, and I was excited to see her again. Neither of us had told anyone. She was a different person now, and so too was I. She would be sitting on the bench, and I would be playing on the field. The first game was at The Emirates and after a hectic 90 minutes, we came away with a 1-1 draw.
I tried not to look over at her too many times, but it didn't help when she came running on every few minutes passing the Wolfsburg players water bottles, or helping stretch the cramp of Mila Bakker. At half time, I had to have a drink, to loosen the emotions that were building up in my head and my heart.
After the match, I didn't speak to her. We smiled softly, but neither of us wanted to bring attention to the fact we knew the other. Although Jill Roord knew that there was something, she didn't know everything. She didn't know that the team physio for Wolfsburg was in fact my sister.
Present
"Don't be scared, but prepare to be fucking shocked," Finn said, on the phone. He sounded really confident. Too confident if you asked me. For Finn, even the slightest bit of information would be good enough for him to believe he had made a huge discovery. Even a sliver of hope would put him on a trajectory of finding her.
"Okay, shock me," I replied, already knowing the answer, but scared about what could happen. I tried to move past the conversations I had with Finn in regards to Eden. I was scared he would find out.
"I found her facebook account, I think," Finn started to say. I could breathe again. Only her facebook, thank God.
"And..." I replied, trying to make him think I was finding new information out, or information that could actually help 'find' her.
"And, at least five years ago, she was in London." From what I knew, that would check out. She was in London, getting her physio degree before she moved across to Germany. That's what she told me at least, when I saw her the few times I did.
"Okay, then that is a start right?"
"Definitely, maybe you could do some digging in London?" Finn asked.
"Finny..." I started to say.
"But-"
"What if Edie doesn't want to be found?" I questioned. "What if she doesn't want anything to do with our family or lack thereof."
"How can you say that, Tipp?" Finn asked, sincerely.
"I don't know, sorry," I answered. I felt Leah's arm tug beside me, and her head was now resting on my shoulder; she was asleep. "Finn, I have to go, but keep looking. I'm sure you'll find her soon." I hung up the phone, and I stared ahead of me, trying to work out what on earth I should do.
After seeing Eden in that hospital room, supporting Jill Roord after a nasty concussion, it changed everything. No longer did I go back to my apartment wanting to make things right with Ellie, I went home. No longer did I go to the Asian Cup, I returned to Europe early to try to talk to Eden. And no longer did I want to stay at Lyon, I made the move across the Channel.
Seeing Eden, for the first time in 12 years, changed everything. But her name was no longer Eden. She was not Eden. She was someone new. Someone different, and that was, for me, too hard to even comprehend.
note:
- ugh u know when u have therapy booked for the next day but then ur therapist gets sick but u had so much u wanted to tell them and now u have to wait ages to see them and vent... no? just me? anyways... hope u lot enjoy xx