by Jamie Summer
“Hey, Mom, can you watch Trevor tonight?”
My mom turned toward me, one of her perfectly drawn eyebrows raised. “Another date?” she asked, obvious doubt in her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t want me to date. Quite the opposite. However, she had a very clear idea of the kind of person I should go out with. So far, none of the prospects I introduced fit the bill. I didn’t remember the number of times I told her none of them would ever be Gavin Michaelson, no matter how much she wanted them to be.
That part of my life was long behind me.
Until I moved here.
I knew he lived here. It had been big news when three local soccer players were chosen to play for a prestigious London soccer club. The sport may not be as big in the States as football or baseball, but something like this didn’t go unnoticed. The news had reached me, even though I lived three hours away.
I didn’t plan to contact him. The past should stay in the past, and this was no different. I needed to keep my distance. It was for the best.
I didn’t tell my mom. She knew Gavin had moved away to play soccer, but her non-existent love for the game made it easy to omit the fact he moved to London. If she knew, it would raise hope, make her urge me to reach out to him for old time’s sake. In the end, it would raise too many questions I wasn’t ready to answer. And probably never would be.
Ignorance and denial had been my favorite companions for the past six years, and moving to another continent wouldn’t change that.
“Yes. I met a nice guy at the pub yesterday. He wants to take me out to dinner tonight.”
“Is this person at least taking you somewhere nice?”
I nodded. It was easier than explaining that we were meeting at a diner not too far from my house. My mom never understood my fascination with the simple things in life. She was a woman of class, and while I admired her for it, it was never me.
“Grandma, does this mean we can watch another movie tonight? Maybe the second part of the Star Wars saga?” Excitement shone in Trevor’s eyes. He was fascinated by everything involving outer space. For weeks, he had bugged me about these movies, and while I stayed strong for a long time, it seemed like a small price to pay for him to be happy about having an evening without his mom at home.
“Well, I guess if your mom isn’t home and doesn’t see anything we do, we can do all kinds of things together, right? Maybe we should go to the store later to make sure we got all the unhealthy snacks ready.”
Trevor smiled widely at my mom’s suggestion. “Yes. Let’s do that,” he said with the kind of excitement only kids were able to show. I envied them for being as carefree as they still were at that age.
“I guess it’s settled then. Have fun on your evening out,” my mom said, turning her attention back to the chessboard, effectively dismissing me. When Trevor did the same, I decided to go back inside and continue unpacking. It seemed like a job with no end.
Hours passed. Before I knew it, Trevor and my mom walked inside, telling me if I planned on going anywhere tonight, I’d better get ready. With a quick look at the clock above the doorway, I realized they were right. It was already after six. I was supposed to meet Nick at seven.
I gave them both a quick kiss and walked to the bathroom. It took twenty minutes to take a shower and become somewhat presentable, though I usually couldn’t care less about putting on more than mascara. Anything else seemed like wasted effort.
When I got back downstairs, I found my mom and Trevor in the kitchen, cooking. Apparently they had already come back from the store. Cooking was another one of those things they liked doing together. Trevor loved cooking, and his grandma showed him all kinds of tricks. I could cook, but just like with chess, there were things I couldn’t show him with my somewhat limited abilities.
“Spaghetti? Doesn’t that seem kind of boring?” They both turned from the pot they had been watching.
“Nah. You don’t know the true magic until you’ve tried every recipe out there, including the magic noodle dish.”
I tried not to snort at my mom’s explanation as I walked over and hugged Trevor from behind. “Be good, okay?” My son groaned, but let me kiss his cheek.
My mom gave me a soft smile. “I love you. I know I give you a hard time when it comes to guys, but I only want what's best for you and Trevor.”
In moments like these, it was hard to be mad at her for all the times she had rejected my choice in boyfriends.
“I know.”
She gave me a kiss on my forehead, then focused her attention back on whatever fancy spaghetti recipe they were trying to make.
I grabbed my purse from the small bench in the tiny hallway, put on my flats and was out the door. The walk to the diner was about ten minutes, and I used the time to enjoy the still warm air. The area we had moved to was a cute and quiet place in the outskirts of London. There were several families living in the neighborhood, some we had met during our first week when one had organized a little get-together for our street. Trevor had loved getting to know some of the kids, and I instantly had a better feeling about the surroundings. There was a small park with a playground close by, as well as some local shops and cafés. Overall, it was the perfect place to raise a kid.
I turned the corner onto the street I knew the diner to be on, surprised when I saw Nick already waiting. “Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted me, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. He had been nice enough when we met the evening before, and when he asked me out on a date, there was little that kept me from agreeing. He was good-looking with his broad shoulders, slightly longer dark hair and deep brown eyes.
The exact opposite of Gavin Michaelson.
God, why can’t I stop thinking about him?
Almost six years. That was how long it had been. But ever since moving here, he had been on my mind more often than I cared for. I tried to tell myself it was normal. After all, I moved to the city I knew he lived in. I could bump into him at any given moment. Thankfully, London was big enough that chances of that happening were slim at best.
“Hey,” I replied with a smile.
Placing his hand on the small of my back, he led me inside. I wanted to protest at first, then decided it was innocent enough. I didn't plan on this going any further than the actual date, so the moment I sensed he had other ideas about what this was, I was out.
I may be ready to go out on dates again, but it didn’t mean I was actually ready to date.
Nick chose a booth toward the back, far away from prying eyes or any of the other customers already sitting in the diner.
“I gotta admit. I wasn't sure you were gonna show up,” Nick explained, and I eyed him in surprise.
“You weren’t? Why? Did I give you the impression I would say yes and then not show up?” I was curious about his answer. I didn't think I seemed like the type, but then again, it had been a while since I went out with someone.
“Not at all, but it’s usually how these things work for me. I ask a pretty lady out on a date and get stood up.”
I stared at him, open-mouthed. It was hard to imagine the truth behind his words, but I didn’t know him well enough to know if this were just a line he used or an actual fact.
“I’m sorry. I mean, that’s rude of them,” I tried to comfort him, feeling slightly awkward doing so.
His eyes widened. “Wait. That came off weird. This is not how I wanted to start our date at all. Sometimes I say things before thinking about them. What I should have said was thank you for being here.”
I merely nodded, avoiding eye contact. I glanced down at the table, thankful when the waiter arrived with the menus.
I had been here a couple times before. Trevor loved it here, the feel of the place reminding him a little of back in the US. The red booths and long counter were exactly the kind you would expect to find in a diner back home. The smell of greasy bacon and coffee lingering in the air made me feel as though I were back in our small town.
“Betty?” Nick asked, obviously having tr
ied to get my attention.
“I’m sorry. This just reminds me of home. I get a little nostalgic.”
“Home? The US, you mean?”
I nodded, then focused on the menu. I knew what I wanted, it was always the same, so it wasn’t like I needed a few minutes to decide. Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a strawberry milkshake. There was no variety with me. I liked to play it safe.
In all life’s aspects.
“When did you move here?” Nick asked, and I started to tell him the basics. It was an easy enough question. I told him about my new job, the new possibilities, and he listened attentively. We were interrupted only by the waiter taking our orders. A few minutes later, he returned with our drinks. I took a long sip from my ice-cold milkshake, letting it clear my every sense.
“What do you do?” I asked in return, realizing that we hadn’t covered that the night before.
“I play football… I mean, soccer. It’s huge here in Britain. Every boy grows up loving foot...soccer. Sorry. I can’t get used to the sport having a different name for you guys. You would think I could, considering I have three Americans playing on the same team as me, but it’s something that just won’t stick.”
I almost choked on my drink when the words left his lips.
“Are you okay?” Nick’s worried voice drifted to me, but my mind had one single focus all of a sudden.
“You… You have Americans in your team?” I managed, the words almost sticking in my throat.
“Yes. They got transferred here a year ago. I only moved up to the first team three weeks ago, so I just recently got a little closer to them. Nice guys, though they seem a little too competitive for me. They forget to have fun in between.”
That doesn’t sound like any of them, I told myself and sat back, coughing to clear the rest of my milkshake stuck in my throat.
“Which team do you play for?” I tried to sound nonchalant when I asked. The smile on Nick’s face told me he didn’t see the panic rising within me.
“West Ham United. Not the biggest or best club in the city, if you ask others, but I love playing there. The team is great. The trainers, the staff, everyone always makes you feel welcome and tries to push you to be the best you can be.”
I stared at him. It couldn’t be. Out of all the people I meet in this city...
“Betty?”
I heard him call my name, but I was far away. Far from where Nick wanted me to be. My mind was on the one night I had tried my best to forget. The night I told Gavin Michaelson we were over. Without rhyme. Without reason. Just like that.
And now, six years later, he was right in front of me again.
Gavin
Two weeks had gone by since I found out Betty was in town. I tried hard to ignore Tyler’s and Devon’s whispers, but it didn’t work.
Needless to say, my performance on the team hadn’t improved, either. The mere thought of her being so close had thrown off something else within me.
I hated it. Hated being so stuck I couldn’t see past what happened with us and move on.
“Michaelson, Jones will take over. Take five,” Coach called from the sidelines. I nodded, welcoming the break.
What I didn’t welcome was the smug smile on Jones’ face. He and Betty had gone out on a couple dates, but so far, it seemed she held steady and wasn’t moving past the talking point. I could tell Jones was frustrated, and part of me hoped he would just move on.
“When will you stop acting like a little child, Michaelson? Your game still sucks.” Jones grinned at me, but I couldn’t care less about what he thought of my performance. The only one who mattered was the coach.
“Michaelson, get off the field,“ Coach ordered.
I did as I was told, passing him on the way to the bench. He gave me a short glance, but it was hard to read him most of the time. Even if you played the best game of your life, you wouldn’t see a smile cross his face.
Tyler, also sitting on the bench, handed me a bottle of water. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s a jerk most of the time.”
“Try all of the time,” I replied, and Tyler laughed.
“That’s more like it.”
I focused my attention on the field. We had gotten three new players, all excellent, all vying for a spot on the team. Competition got tighter by the second. The longer I watched the game from the sidelines, the clearer my predicament became.
I could lose my spot. I truly could.
“Gavin, I know you don’t want to hear it, but you need to step up your game. Those people out there on the field... They are slowly taking over. I’ll be damned if they succeed, but you need to do your part. No drifting off in your mind. Under the circumstances, I know it’s hard, but you need to focus on your career here; otherwise, you’ll be back on a plane to the US sooner than you think. Why is this bothering you so much anyway? It’s been years. It should be a long-lost memory, nothing else.”
I couldn’t explain why I was so hung up on Betty because I didn’t understand it myself, so I did what I did a lot these past days. Stayed silent.
“You know what? We should go out. Let loose for a night. Maybe get laid. That’s exactly what you need.”
I arched a brow, wanting to point out everything that was wrong with his suggestion, but the excited expression on his face made me reconsider. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to go out for a night. Coach didn't like us staying out too late, but one night wouldn’t hurt, right? Especially if it meant I could “let loose”, as Tyler had put it. It could be exactly what I needed.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Macy’s?” Tyler asked, and I nodded. Macy’s was a pub we had gone to a few times when we needed to unwind, and it usually wasn’t overly crowded on a weeknight. And Ben, the owner, was a huge fan of the club and let us drink there for free. Win-win.
After making plans, Tyler and I watched the training game for another ten minutes, then Coach called us together for a few more words before dismissing us.
Devon, Tyler and I went through our normal routine of lifting weights, relaxing and showering, before piling into Devon’s car and driving over to Macy’s. Devon was the only one of us brave enough to try his luck at left-sided driving, and Tyler and I readily cheered him on when he mentioned he would be open to it. While you didn’t need a car in a city like London, it was nice to have.
“Ugh, I will never get used to this weird traffic,” Tyler said, holding onto the handle of his door as Devon steered through the small streets.
“Don’t be such a baby. You would if you’d open your eyes whenever we’re on the road,” Devon remarked. I laughed. He did have a point. For some reason, Tyler always sat in the back, eyes closed, as if he expected imminent death at any second.
A few minutes later, we came to a stop near Macy’s, lucky to get a rather good parking spot close by. Another thing you could not take for granted in a city like this.
We walked the short distance to the pub, hearing voices growing louder the closer we got. As Devon opened the door, the scent of beer and sweat wafted over us. It was always the same. Soccer players, as well as fans and wannabes, met up here, and that was exactly what the air represented.
“Hey, guys,” Jo, one of the bartenders, greeted us. She was a fiery redhead with a big heart. The second I met her, I instantly liked her, just like everyone else who worked here. It was one of the reasons we came back. “What can I get you?” she asked as we took three seats at the bar. The venue was rather quiet for this time of night. I noticed barely twenty people as I let my eyes wander the room. “Some of the guys went to a training session for Crystal Palace. They’ll be here after that.”
“Crystal Palace?” Devon asked, his brow arched. “Really?” There was a slight mocking tone in his voice.
“Devon,” I sighed, slight warning in my voice.
“What? They aren’t as good as we are. Simple as that,” he said, as if it explained his attitude.
“Still no reason to bash them.”
> “I didn’t bash them. Merely pointed out a fact.”
“We’ve met the guys from Crystal Palace. They’re nice,” I reminded him.
Devon turned to Jo without replying. “An ale, please.”
“Make that two.”
“Three.”
Nodding, Jo got to work on our beers, and I steered the conversation away from Crystal Palace. More than once, I had tried to ask Devon what his issue with them was, but for some reason, it seemed there was a solid foundation of resentment within him. I decided not to dwell on it, the issues Devon had with the team his own to deal with.
When Jo set our beers in front of us, we toasted. The cold alcohol went down like water. I couldn’t remember the last time I had one and had to admit, it tasted good. It wasn’t that I was opposed to drinking, but with playing soccer, you needed to make sure your focus was on the right things. Not that it truly worked for me these days, but if I added too much alcohol into the mix, it would be even worse. So I tended to stay away.
We downed our first drink rather quickly, and it didn’t take long for Jo to place the next batch in front of us.
“Thank you,” I told her, and she merely shrugged.
“Need to make sure you guys stay hydrated.”
I laughed and held up my beer. “Cheers to that,” I said before taking a sip.
Within the past several minutes, the bar had gotten more crowded, just like Jo had predicted. The noise level had grown to the point the guys and I had to raise our voices in order to understand what the other was saying.
I let my gaze wander the room. People-watching had always fascinated me, and a pub was a great way to get your fill. It was easy to make out the soccer players. We usually didn’t bother to dress in regular clothes, showing up in our training gear. Most days, sweatpants and our training jackets were the outfit we went for. That kind of look dominated the scene tonight.
Which was why I spotted her easily. She was like a beacon within the mess of sweaty outfits. Her dark jeans fit her tightly, and the loose, flowing red shirt she wore left something to the imagination.
