And I know that he wants to go there.
He loves their team. He loves their offer. And from what I understand from their numerous meetings and phone calls and whatnot, he has the most room to grow over there.
Plus that team has Arrow Carlisle.
He’s one of the best players who has a bright future in the European league, and he’s one of my boyfriend’s personal favorites. The more surreal thing though is that Arrow happens to be the boyfriend of one of my St. Mary’s friends, Salem.
While I never got a chance to get to know her before this, we’ve come to know each other over the past months. With a couple of trips that he and I took to L.A. — and hadsomuch fun by the way, traveling together as a couple — and a handful of times that they flew out to the East Coast, we’ve managed to come closer.
And I totally love her.
We talk about soccer a lot because Salem’s an excellent soccer player in her own right and knows everything there is to know about the game. And I’m determined to learn as much as I can to support my boyfriend. Not because I’m compensating for something but because I want to hold his hand and stand by him in everything that he does. Like he does with me and my books and my writing. Oh, I started writing a novel too; in fact, he was the one who encouraged me to.
But anyway.
Salem also turned me on to the greatest artist ever, Lana Del Rey, and her haunting and romantic and melancholic music. Which has been a great inspiration for my work. So that alone makes us best friends forever.
But what I was trying to get at was that even though I hate that we’ll be separated soon, I know — I have full faith — that we’ll get through this.
And I love Maple for saying that.
I can’t believe that I hated her at one point. Like, way in the beginning when I met her for the first time. But only because she seemed so close to him, the boy I love. And so I was jealous. But then I found out that they’re more like siblings, so all my reservations were gone.
Not to mention, she’s kinda engaged to his older brother.
Engaged and hopelessly in love.
Which even if I hadn’t known already, I’d know when a second later Homer appears in the stands. All suited up and polished.
Because she freezes.
Like really. With her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. She also ceases to breathe while she watches him wade through the unruly and shouting crowd to get to where we’re sitting. Only taking a breath and looking away when he reaches us and takes a seat beside me.
Then, she does everything in her power to ignore him.
While blushing furiously and chewing on her lips.
But I know she’s listening when he says to me, “Did I miss anything?”
“One goal.”
“Shit.” Then, “Him?”
“Who else?” I say in a braggy voice.
His lips twitch. “Hell yes.”
Mine do too.
Because it’s funny, curse words coming out of Homer Davidson’s mouth. He has to be the most put-together guy I’ve ever seen. In an expensive three-piece suit with a perfectly knotted tie, a handkerchief in his pocket and not one hair out of place, Homer looks like the epitome of a successful and debonair businessman.
He looks intimidating to people who don’t know him, but not to me.
Or at least, not anymore.
To me, he simply looks like a big brother.
A proud and a happy big brother who attends every single game that his younger brother plays in. Sometimes he’s late, like today, but he always makes it. Who talks to his brother and discusses game strategies and what team his brother should go for. Who right now is watching the game like nothing is more important in the world except his brother on the field, playing both their favorite sport.