I dreaded facing my teammates all morning. No doubt they'd all seen the article by then, and probably everything on social media, too. And no doubt they'd all be dying to tease me and Mason about it. I expected jeers from Kyle, inappropriate comments from Abby, sneaky stares from the rest of the team... but I got none of it.
Kyle walked into the changing room full of beans, his hattrick clearly still on his mind. Abby wandered in a while later with Fran and Olly, and talk of Spurs' loss to Championship opposition dominated the room. Every time a new teammate streamed in, part of me braced for a side comment, or a snigger, or something, but they just went about their business, pulling on their kit, complaining about the weather, congratulating each other about the victory last night.
When it came to ten minutes before we were due out, I wondered if I'd dreamt up the whole thing. But my Twitter feed had been full of it; my parents had messaged me about it; Emma had even called me in hysterics about it. There was no chance my team had missed it. A line in the article came to the front of my mind, the one about people fearing the consequences this may have on the team. Was this their way of telling us that maybe there might not be any?
The door opened and, glancing up from my socks, I caught the eyes of Mason. This stirred a reaction. A hush rippled through the room for a brief few seconds as I stared at Mason. His face gave nothing away; gone was the despondence and irritation and confusion from that morning. I wondered if my expression told him anything. Chatter begun again and, tearing his gaze away, Mason headed for his locker.
Abby nudged me in the side and shuffled closer along the bench. Her eyes shone with sympathy.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Part of me must have been playing along with the rest of them, because the second Abby spoke my throat constricted and my eyes stung. I took a deep breath and bit down hard on my lip. Looking back down, I focused all my attention on tugging up my socks. Unable to reply, I just nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she mumbled under her breath.
I paused for a second. If there was anyone who I could talk to about everything â honestly â it was Abby. But the thought of battling through another intense conversation seemed too exhausting. Besides, even with the lack of response, I knew everyone's ears would itch if I said anything in here.
"Maybe later."
Abby squeezed my knee, but didn't say anything more. The changing room air pressed down on me, too warm. Noise echoed off the tiled floors and walls, but within seconds the thundering of my heart in my ear drowned it out. I had to leave.
"I'm going to head out," I said to Abby.
"I'll come with."
Standing up, I took a moment to gather myself â to shove the tears back down my throat â before I followed Abby out. Pairs of eyes burned the back of my head as we left.
In the passage, Abs and I booted up in silence. I knew the rest of the team would be out soon: now was my chance. I could ask her what the team thought. I could ask her the reason for their silence. I could ask her for advice. I could ask her anything.
But I said nothing.
Outside, rainclouds lingered above the pitches, dark and thick, waiting for more victims before they broke open. Shivers appeared on my exposed legs. I thought about the abandoned leggings at my bench and regretted choosing shorts instead. Frank, Jody, and the rest of the coaches stood in a huddle in the middle of the pitch, beacons and bibs scattered around them. For the first time today I wondered if I'd even be able to take part in the training or if I'd be banished back to Stu. Somehow, spending the day locked inside the gym seemed the better option. Especially when Abby stopped walking.
"Becks," Abby said from behind me. "I know you said you don't want to talk about it, butâ"
"Abs," I groaned, spinning around. She held up a hand.
"But, I just need to say that you can't take that article to heart."
My cheeks flushed at the knowing look in her eyes. So she had seen it. I thought about denying it, about just acting nonchalant in hope that she'd move on. But she stood stoic, arms crossed over her chest, and I knew that getting out of this would be harder than I wanted.
"How can I not?" The sourness in my voice startled me.
"Because it's bullshit," she replied, letting out a huff. "It's not worth stressing over, yeah?"
I should have known she'd take Mason's side. Swallowing back residual rage from that morning, I mimicked Abby's position.
"But it's not bullshit," I insisted. My voice came out louder than I expected. "A legit journalist for a legit outlet wrote it. Do you even know how much attention it's gotten already? How much chaos it's caused on socials?"
"Yeah, but who cares about that?"
"Jesus, Abs, I do!"
I let out a defeated sigh as tears ached the back of my throat again. We stood out of earshot of the coaches and the three goalies warming up, but shame still warmed my cheeks. Abby blinked at me.
"Becks, it's random people just talking shit," she said, voice gentler than before. "They're always going to do it. They do it after every game andâ"
"Yeah, but this is about me and my personal life." She opened her mouth, but I spoke over her. "I'm allowed to care about that. Fuck, I'm sick of people acting like I can't."
"Of course you can, but there's caring about it and there's taking it to heart."
"What's the difference?"
Abby studied the ground, her lips pressed tight together. The seriousness of her expression took me by surprise when she looked back up. What had her so upset? I frowned, but in an instant her confession from the gala sprung back into my mind. Maybe this struck an old nerve.
"Caring about it is normal; we all care about it a little bit, even if no one will actually say so." I bit the inside of my cheek as she frowned. "But taking it to heart is just... you just can't let it get it you so much that you start reacting to it." My heart panged at the bleakness in her voice. "Because that never ends well."
"Talking from experience?" I asked softly.
"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "That was why the Liverpool thing didn't work out." She flashed me a sad smile and whatever rage was left in my chest faded. "He cared way too much about what people thought of him and what they'd say if they found out he was dating a teammate. It felt like he cared more about that than me, so..."
She trailed off and shrugged a shoulder. Pity welled up in my chest, followed by the cold realisation that Mason's thoughts probably drifted towards that exact point this morning. Now, it was my turn to study the ground, unsure of how to reply. I dug the toe of my boot into the soft grass. Mud dirtied the pristine white fabric.
"Look, Becks, care all you want, but just don't make the mistake of doing something you don't want to because some arseholes on Twitter think you should."
I nodded, my head heavy as I turned over what Abby had said. It made sense â more sense than I cared to admit. A sour ball of regret formed in my stomach. Did Mason think I cared more about the opinion's of strangers than about him? I replayed our conversation from this morning.
Why wouldn't he think that?
Another thought lingered on my mind. It seemed wrong to ask Abby about it after everything she'd just said, but curiosity got the best of me. Sounds came from behind her and, looking over her shoulder, I saw the first of our teammates coming outside.
"I'm assuming everyone saw the article."
"Yeah we did." Abby crossed her arms. I should have known the answer to my next question â or at least suspected it â but I asked it anyway.
"Why didn't anyone say anything?"
I picked at my nails as Abby's gaze shifted over her shoulder. Kyle screeched somewhere to my left and a yell from Fran followed. I raised an eyebrow, hoping the group was far enough away not to overhear us. Or that they would avoid us all together.
"Because Mason asked us not to," Abby replied, suppressing a grin.
Shock punched me in the chest. "What?"
"He sent us all messages earlier," she carried on, dropping the volume of her voice as Diego and Valentina walked past a few meters away. I leant in close, anticipation heating my skin, but Abby remained stubbornly silent.
"Saying what?" I snapped.
"Saying that the article spooked you and he thought you'd appreciate it if we all didn't make a big deal about it."
He thought I'd appreciate it if the team didn't make a big deal about it.
"No that any of us really think is it a big deal, by the way."
Blood rushed to my cheeks as her words settled in my mind. Mason did that for me. I swallowed back a wave of emotion. He did that for me after I was such a bitch to him. My hands curled into fists at my side; foolishness made my shoulders slump.
What have I done what have I done what have I done?
"Iâ"
My voice caught in my throat. Abby's grin broke through on her face, but my attention shifted behind her. Mason walked onto the pitch, alone, his eyes focused on the ground. My stomach dropped, fondness and guilt and understanding fighting for dominance. How could he ever think I'd care about some stupid people online more than him? How could I ever have let him think that?
He looked up and scanned the pitch in front of him. His eyes moved from the cluster of coaches to the stragglers that stood around waiting for their whistles. Then they met mine. Once again, his face gave nothing away. Envy stung at my chest at his ability to hide his emotions; I knew that my jumble of feelings would be there for the world to see.
Timidly, I raised a hand. It may as well have been a white flag: Mason's steps faltered and his face for a moment glowed with relief. Within seconds, his hand came up, too. Even with the distance between us, the grin that covered his face as he looked back down and continued walking shone through.
"So."
I shook my head and looked back to Abby. The perceptive expression was back in her eyes as they widened. She flicked her head over her shoulder, to where Mason was.
"You really going to give that up just because it might upset some people online?"
I sighed. No. No ways. Abby reached forwards and squeezed my arm. With her words still swimming around my mind, she took off at a jog towards the rest of the team. I stood still for a few seconds longer. She was right; I had to fix things before there was no going back. Mason deserved it â I deserved it.