Page 31 of The Prospect

“Ugh. How can you tell?” she asks, groaning as she attempts to get comfy in her chair.

I point ahead. “They just finished the coin toss, and any second now, the whistle will blow and?—”

The game kicks off and suddenly, Amira’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“What?” I’m compelled to ask, snuggling into my jacket to warm myself up.

“Ninety minutes?” she speaks, her eyes fixated on the scoreboard. “Really?” Her head falls back in a huff.

“Plus added time,” I tell her, trying not to laugh at her theatrics. “Now, sit back, relax and get comfortable, the game has only just begun.”

As the final whistle blows,the game comes to a draw.

Today’s team from Wolverhampton was tough. They had strong players and frankly better possession of the ball. After they scored in the first ten minutes of the match, I really thought that this might be one of Crawfield’s first losses of the season, but with a final corner ball to conclude the last fifteen seconds of the match, Coach demanded that all of the players, the keeper included, make their way into the box to see if they could make some magic happened.

They did.

Lo-and-behold, true to his word, as he made his way forward, Green managed to head the ball into the net. The stadium was in uproar; even Amira jumped for joy after I reminded her for the hundredth time to stop living behind her phone screen and live in the moment.

Thankfully, I told her when I did otherwise, she would’ve missed his goal, not to mention the way that after he finished celebrating with the team, he ran along the side, pointed to Amira, and mouthed, “That one was for you.”

I won’t lie, it stung a little. Especially given that Green’s gesture more than just caught Amira’s attention, it became the only thing she wanted to focus her attention on—and now as we exit the stands and weave our way over to the field, ready tobe guided back by Delaney, Amira’s practically itching to break away from me.

“You’re not wearing a Crawfield jersey today.” Delaney is the first to notice the change in my outfit as she clings onto Matty at her hip. “How come?”

I shrug casually. “I thought I’d uh—try something different today.” I wrap myself beneath my coat. “Besides…” I look over to Amira who sports my shirt instead. “I, um…thought I’d lend it out.”

“That was generous of you,” Delaney remarks. “Wasn’t it, Matty?” She looks down at him for an answer. He babbles in response, compelling Delaney to flash me a look.

God…does even baby Matty see right through me?

Everyone, Delaney inclusive, has got this false hope that one day, Green and I will magically end up together, but sometimes fairy tales don't always come true. I’ve realized that, the sooner they do, the better.

“So is this where you guys usually wait for the team?” Amira asks as we stand amidst the other friends and family who wait out back following the game.

“Sure is,” I tell her. “The guys should be out soon, so just wait here and?—”

“Green!” Amira breaks away from my side and sprints forward before I can even catch sight of him myself. As she does, I have to remind myself to stay where I am. After all, now is the time for me to hopefully be just as successful with my first step of the plan as Green was.

Here goes nothing.

Reluctantly I remove my jacket, folding it within my arms as I turn my back to the place where the boys usually exit out from and steady my breathing.

“Be fun. Be friendly. Be confident,” I remind myself under my breath. “Be personable. Be open. Be willing. Be?—”

“Hazel.”

That familiar husky voice prompts me to turn over my shoulder, and immediately, I look up into the eyes of none other than Christoper Hart.

“Hart.” I don’t know why I say his name first rather than a hello but I do. “Hey…” I finally sputter out next. “How uh—are you?”

God, I’m so incredibly awkward. It’s cringy.

“No complaints here, love. And you?” he responds, all the while his icy blue eyes scan me up and down, somehow, it warms me up.

“I’m good…great, even. Thanks for uh—asking.”

He smiles down at me, eyes locked onto my face.“You look lovely, Hazel,” he remarks, taking a step back in the process. “Wow.” His hand brushes along his mouth. “I love that dress on you. It’s absolutely stunning.”

---