Page 74 of That Secret Something

I fidgeted under the hood of my raincoat, starting to feel the cold seep into my bones. When it rained in England, it really poured. I just hoped the weather would improve for the wedding next week; Lily was desperate to get some photos outside the boathouse. I didn’t want anything to go awry—perhaps for some selfish reasons, too. I mean, if she had the perfect wedding of her dreams, the news that I was dating her sister wouldn’t sound so bad, would it?

The referee’s whistle brought my attention back to the game. Two women in purple were arguing the decision, but he waved them out of the way.

Rebecca called for the ball, and her teammate passed it to her. My eyes were glued to her tall form as she carried the ball towards the goal, weaving between the opposition. Her orange vest clung to her like a second skin, the skies relentless with their downpour. Before she could take a shot, she slipped. Groans rang out around me.

Come on, Rebecca.

She got up and immediately sprinted to try and win the ball back. The coach on the other side of the field shouted some instructions to the players, lost to the wind. The rain pelted the back of my head. How cold must the players be? I doubted we’d be stopping on any country lanes this time on the way home—even if Rebecca’s team did win.

Rebecca intercepted an opponent and passed the ball downfield. It sailed through the air, fighting the missiles of rain, and landed right by her teammate’s feet. The player slotted the ball past the goalie, and the stands erupted.

“Yes!” I jumped to my feet, joining in the celebrations with my neighbours. Water soaked the ends of my jeans from the puddles underfoot, but my newfound adrenaline staved off the chill. All level with four minutes to go.

I jiggled my feet with anticipation, starting to understand how people could be so invested in sports. The atmosphere was electric, despite the dismal weather, and the crowd continued to shout to encourage the team.

Suddenly, the voices were louder; the rain had stopped. I pushed my hood back, feeling the warmth of the sun poking out from behind the clouds. This had to be a good thing. I crossed my fingers inside my sleeves. If the game remained tied, the result would be determined by a penalty shootout, and I didn’t think my nerves could handle that.

With the visibility a little better, both teams passed with more accuracy, the play bouncing from one end to the other. A woman in purple lined up her shot, but the keeper saved it with her gigantic glove, passing it downfield. The ball pinged between orange players, opening up a gap for Rebecca to run into. She received the ball and turned, dummying the defender and dribbling towards the goal. It was two on one now. A teammate in orange screamed for the ball at her side, and a purple defender blocked Rebecca’s view of the goal. But her head stayed down. Was she going to shoot anyway?

The crowd leaned forward, anticipating the shot, but Rebecca hesitated. There was a split second before she’d be surrounded by more purple defenders. What was she doing?

The voice of her teammate cut through her daze, and she passed her the ball. The teammate promptly fired at the goal and the ball rippled the back of the net. The sun shone on the players as they piled on top of each other in celebration. When the cheers had died down, Rebecca looked up, searching the crowd. She showcased that perfect dimpled smile of hers, and my heart soared.

The teams reset, and a flood of purple hurried downfield, firing off desperate shots that a flurry of orange defended like their life depended on it.

The final whistle blew, and the stands erupted, the spectators jumping and shouting and clapping. The crowd stormed the field, and after a little hesitation, I followed.

My heart beat fast against my ribcage as I scanned for Rebecca, losing her in the horde. Everywhere there were people congratulating women in orange and offering commiserations to those in purple.

Finally, I spotted Rebecca through a gap in the crowd. Our eyes locked, and she smiled bigger than I’d ever seen. She sprinted up to me and picked me up, lifting me high like a trophy.

I laughed and squealed. “I should be the one lifting you!”

“I’d love to see you try.” She lowered me down, keeping her hands firmly on my hips. Even drenched to the bone, with flat hair and a flushed face, she was so very beautiful. The happiness just oozed out of her.

“You did it! You won!”

She grinned again before crashing her lips to mine. I gripped her face, kissing her deeper, completely lost in the moment. In the midst of the crowd and the celebrations, we were alone in our own little world.

Except we weren’t.

“What the fuck is this?”

If the voice hadn’t been so loud, and so recognisable, I wouldn’t have heard it.

The two of us jumped apart. Lily stood in a gap in the crowd, her fiery gaze flicking between us. She stormed forward. “Somebody better start talking. Right now. What the fuck?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. This isn’t happening. Not now. Not like this.

I looked to Rebecca, hoping she could come up with something, anything, to defuse the moment. But she’d gone white as a sheet, her gaze cast down to the floor.

Lily took another step forward, zeroing in on her sister, her voice gaining some of the spectators’ attention around us. “Don’t ignore me, Rebecca. At least have the decency to say something.” She shoved her in the chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey!” I wanted to step in, but Mrs Lawson beat me to it.

“Let’s not do this here, love.” Sally appeared behind Lily, trying to pull her backwards, but she fought her off.

Excellent. The whole family is here to witness. What impeccable timing.

---