Page 54 of The Fangirl Project
Oh, good luck!
@runicrascal
Should be a good one!
Worried about my dad. He’s been really focused on me getting into a good uni and stuff, but I think once I’m actually gone, he’s going to find the whole empty nest thing really tough. My sister was meant to be coming home soon for reading week but she said she might just stay there with some friends, and he was pretty upset
@mythicwitch
Oh no! That must be hard for him—and stressful for you
@runicrascal
Eh, could be worse. Preaching to the choir here
@mythicwitch
Haha, don’t I know it
I’m glad we’re talking againI missed these chats x
@runicrascal
Me too, Cerys x
19
The world feels like it’sbeen tipped back into balance; I have plans with the girls to keep me busy, I’m on top of all my schoolwork, there’s no weirdness with Anissa in the school hallways and we chat often online, and Jake isfinallytexting me back properly a bit more.
And, most important, the Discord chat between us hardly stops.
So, on Sunday, I do the unthinkable, and I show up to watch my crush’s soccer match.
Daphne thought it might be a bit needy (her own recent attempt with the rugby match was totally fruitless and now they’re sort ofnottalking anymore), but Chloe and Nikita agreed that it was a worthwhile move; Evie said that knowing Jake, he’d need the extra push anyway.
It didn’t used to be weird, when I’d go to watch Jake play soccer. One of the other boys in our group was on the same local team, and we’d all go along to cheer them on for an important match, orjust to hang out on the sidelines when the weather was good. We’d do it for the girls’ hockey matches, too.
Except now, when I show up, I’m very aware that I’m herealoneand that most of the other girls shivering on the sidelines in the wet, late October drizzle are clearly girlfriends of some of the players. There are parents and friends around, too, but not so many that I can just melt into the crowd.
The teams are both doing warm-ups, and Max spots me first.
He’s stretching his hamstring, but stands up straight when he notices me, staring and staring andGod,is he for real? It’s like he’s seen a ghost. Do I have something on my face? Do I really look so out of place? I’m in a navy raincoat and I’ve brought my umbrella, and I’m even wearing some sensible boots because it’s so wet and muddy. It’s not as if I’ve come dressed for maximum “ask me on a date already, Jake!” seduction—for a change.
You’d think I’d shown up in my own set of elf ears, for all he’s staring.
Determined to one-up him at his own standoffish game, I give him a cheery smile and a wave so overenthusiastic it must be blatantly obvious that I’m being facetious.
Then Jake says something to Max and straightens out of his own stretch, turning to follow his gaze—and spotting me, doing my stupid wave and goofy smile.
I drop it, but Jake’s already jogging over, laughing, and pulls me into a hug so tight he practically lifts me off my feet. I laugh, too, my umbrella falling out of the way, Jake’s damp soccer shirt turning my cheek wet. Over his shoulder, I see Max coming toward us, too, his dark eyebrows drawn low.
I’ve seen Jake in his soccer uniform a hundred times. Not these colors, but it’s all the same thing. His narrow shoulders and lean frame, all sharp angles beneath his blue jersey, with matching socks pulled up high over his shin guards.
But my gaze snags on Max before I can help it, and I find myself doing a double take.
Does he…does he look…good?
His legs are thicker than Jake’s, corded with muscle and dusted with dark hair, and even with his long hair pulled back from his face in a silly man bun,it looks good.It makes his cheekbones look higher, his jawline more defined without his hair hiding it. Stockier than Jake, Max somehow makes him lookboyishby comparison, softer and younger, while he looks more…
