Walking through the doors of the Bellingham household, I instantly felt at home. I'd strolled into this house on many occasions throughout the course of my life, always greeted pleasantly by three of the four inhabitants and welcomed with open arms. Denise was the kindest woman I knew, and Mark was incredibly thoughtful, always making me laugh with the plethora of dad jokes he had up his sleeve. Jobe had inherited his mum's sense of humour and her willingness to make everyone feel welcome regardless of their background and had followed his Dad in the way he was so protective of the ones he loved.
The walls were lined with pictures from Jude and Jobe's childhood, their wide grins showcasing the happiness their parents had managed to provide for them in the early years of their lives. I focused on one photo in particular, laughing at the image of me with the Bellingham brothers as we all posed with ice cream smeared around our mouths, completely oblivious and carefree. I grinned at the memory — things had been so much simpler back then.
"Jude, our guests are here!" Denise called up the stairs. I heard a door open and close, and then Jude's silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs. My Mum and Denise carried on into the kitchen, but my gaze lingered on the eldest Bellingham brother as he inhaled a deep breath, seemingly gaining his composure and preparing himself for the hard task of pretending to like me. When his eyes met mine, I quickly looked away and hurried into the kitchen, embarrassed to have been caught staring.
"What can I get you to drink, Hannah?" Denise asked me.
"I'll have a glass of orange juice, please," I replied.
Denise smiled. "You know we only buy this for you?" She explained as she pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge. "Everyone in this house prefers apple juice."
"A wise choice," Mum grinned, "I find orange juice to be quite sour."
Not as sour as you, I added to myself. I loved my mum to death, but she had her irritating moments, as did all parents.
"Hey Maria," Jude greeted my mum as he stepped into the kitchen. He hugged her, meanwhile I was met with an obviously fake smile. Fortunately for me and Jude, our mothers weren't tuned in to the frostiness between us. "Hi," Jude said to me.
"I swear you grow taller every time I see you," Mum admonished with a shake of her head. "It only feels like yesterday that you were still in nappies and giving your parents sleepless nights."
"He still does give me sleepless nights," Denise chuckled.
Jude narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked his mother.
"Nothing, dear."
"How are things with you, Jude?" Mum asked.
"Good," he answered with a smile that was more genuine this time around. "Dortmund have had a very strong start to the season and the new players have settled in really well. I don't want to speak too soon, but I'm feeling positive that we'll get to lift some silverware this year."
"That's great to hear," Mum smiled. She didn't know much about football but always tried her best to understand since it was such a big deal to the whole Bellingham family. "Hayley and Paul were on about going to see a Dortmund match sometime this year."
"That would be great. It's always nice to have the extra support."
"Hannah and I would come too, of course. I've bought us all matching Bellingham shirts."
Jude turned and smirked at me, obviously revelling in the thought of me sporting a shirt with his name and number on. He knew how much I detested even the thought of it.
"Although Hannah here would much rather wear a Reyna shirt," Mum added.
"As much as I love Jude," I said (obviously lying), "Gio is my favourite player."
"Of course he is," Jude muttered.
"Oh Hannah that reminds me," Denise said, "Jude has a gift for you." She turned to her son. "Jude, why don't you go and show Hannah what you've got for her?"
Jude's jaw clenched. "It was Jobe's idea, not mine. Why don't we wait until he gets home so he can see Hannah open it?" He said.
"Jude."
He sighed, understanding that this was his mum's way of getting rid of us so she and my mum could gossip in private. "Follow me, Hannah."
I reluctantly did as I was asked, heading upstairs to Jude's bedroom. As I stood awkwardly whilst he rifled through his drawers, I realised that this was the first time I'd ever been in his room. It was exactly how I'd pictured it to be with various football memorabilia dotted around the room and framed pictures of Jude at different stages in his football career, from when he was a child first starting out in the academy right up to last season at Dortmund.
"Here," Jude said, handing me a package.
"Thanks," I said, taking it from his hands.
"Before you open it, I will admit that I played a part in getting it for you," Jude said quietly. There wasn't a trace of a smile on his face — I'd never seen him look so serious outside of a football match before.
I raised an eyebrow and began to open the package. Inside was an England shirt with the name 'Grealish' printed on the back. My eyes were drawn to the writing on the back of the shirt, my mouth falling open in shock when I realised that it was Jack Grealish's autograph. "Is this legit?" I asked in surprise.
"Yep," Jude said. "Jobe was practically begging me to get him to sign a shirt for you. So next time I saw Grealo, I asked him to sign it and he did."
"Oh my god," I smiled, immediately putting it on. My head went giddy with excitement at the thought of the real Jack Grealish touching and signing this shirt. It was no secret that I found that man gorgeous and I had annoyed Jobe with my crush on the Man City player for years.
"It wasn't my idea, just so you know," Jude quickly added.
I looked at him. "No I know, but you didn't have to do that, so thank you," I said.
Jude's lips curled into a slight smile. "You like it, then?"
"I love it!" I turned to look in Jude's mirror, spinning around so I could get a good look at myself in the shirt.
I glanced at Jude through the mirror. His smile had widened as he watched me. I wasn't used to this kind of warmth from him. "Jobe will be pleased, then," Jude said. "He wanted to get you something you'd appreciate."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, sending off a thank you message to Jobe before I could forget. I noticed that Jude was still staring at me when my eyes flicked upwards to meet his. I half expected him to ruin the moment by making a snide comment, but instead he said nothing and turned to put away the clothes that remained on his bedroom floor.
After that, he nodded his head towards the door. I took that as my cue to leave and headed back downstairs into the kitchen with Jude following closely behind me. The smell of delicious food cooking away infiltrated my senses and my stomach growled with hunger right on cue as we stepped into the room. Denise caught sight of the shirt that I was now wearing and looked to her son with a grin.
We sat down for lunch shortly afterwards, sharing stories at the table and laughing at fond memories. I found that being pleasant to Jude wasn't too difficult a task for me this time around, although I was still unsure if the slight kindness he'd shown to me today had all just been an act to please his mum. I wasn't about to believe that he was suddenly going to start being nice to me after nearly fourteen years of squabbling.
"I must say that Hayley and Trent looked very happy together," Denise noted.
Here we go, I sighed.
"I agree," Mum said, "but it did come as a shock to us all when we found out they were together." Mum quickly glanced at Jude. I turned my head in his direction, noticing that he'd suddenly fallen silent. This was a sore subject for us both, I suppose.
"Trent makes her very happy, though," Mum continued, smiling to herself. "It's good to see after what happened with Ben."
More silence pursued as we thought back on Hayley's rocky relationship with Ben Chilwell. It was extremely awkward for Jude considering Ben was his England teammate. That meant he was forced to work with him in order to help the team win despite him being the guy who'd cheated on one of his closest friends and had broken her heart.
"Trent's a good guy," Denise stated, "he knows the right way to treat a woman."
"And he better treat Hayley right, otherwise I will travel to Liverpool myself and teach that boy a lesson," Mum said.
Denise laughed. "You and me both."
I smiled at at their solidarity. They wouldn't be the only ones breaking down Trent's door if he hurt my sister — I would be there leading the chase.
After lunch, I offered to load the dishwasher. Denise asked Jude to help me but I politely declined his assistance. Their voices faded as they walked away from the kitchen and into the living room, Jude glancing at me as he went. He was behaving rather oddly today, and I didn't know what to think of that.
Whilst I was busy, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at it to see that Jobe had texted me back.
Hannah:
thank you so so so much for the grealish shirt :)
Jobe:
what shirt?
Hannah:
the one that you asked jude to get jack to
sign for me
Jobe:
sorry han but i have no clue what you're
talking about
Hannah:
wait you seriously don't know?
Jobe:
nope.
you said jude got jack to sign it? maybe
ask him who it's from
Hannah:
he said it was from you
Jobe:
weird. jude must've got it for you
Hannah:
don't be ridiculous
I frowned at my phone, slightly puzzled. There was just no way that Jude of all people would've willingly got me a gift, especially one that meant so much to me and would make me happy.
There'd only been one occasion where I'd discussed my fondness for Jack Grealish in front of Jude, and it had been at a party where we were all sat playing truth or dare and had somehow wandered onto the subject of celebrity crushes. I'd stated Jack as mine, but there was no way that Jude had been paying enough attention to what I was saying to remember how much I liked the Man City player nearly ten months later. And especially not when Jude detested me as much as I detested him.
At that moment, he wondered into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of apple juice. He turned to catch me staring at him. "What you looking at?" He asked.
"Jobe doesn't know anything about the shirt," I began.
"He must be messing with you. He wouldn't stop asking me."
I watched as Jude did his best to avoid eye contact with me. "Yeah. He must be..."