Chapter 3

Lukasz POV

It was our last game of the pre-season. We were still trying to get to know each other on the pitch. Getting used to the new coach and the four players he brought along with him: Mario, Marcel, Kevin and Mats. Mats and I clicked immediately since he was the oldest of them at only twenty. We roomed together at the training camp the whole summer, so I guess that’s really where our friendship started.

That September though, without even knowing it, I would make a decision based on our friendship that would haunt me for the next four years.

She was there before the game, just as a volunteer, helping with a group of local kids that were attending the game. We were still nobodies then, but professional footballers nonetheless, so the kids were still excited to see us.

She seemed so at ease, like being around children was where she belonged, and although the group of kids was admittedly frightening, she handled them happily.

It looked overwhelming though, her arms flailing around the little ones swarming around her frame, but yet she still seemed settled, grounded, totally in control. That was until the one of them broke away from the group and into a run, darting in my direction.

I remember how thankful I was for the disobedient boy; he finally got her attention on me.

The boy carried a football in his arms and I crouched in front of him while I signed it, whispering a quick thank you to him.

She was in front of us soon after, camera in hand. I gestured to the kid to pose for a picture, while my eyes remained on her and my lips stretched into a grin… for the picture, of course, but for her too.

As she lowered the camera, revealing her face, I knew I had been changed forever.

Her eyes were the deepest shade of green — almost greyish in color — to ever make a connection with mine. Once I stood up I could not look away, I was paralyzed, and it felt, for a moment, so was she.

She pushed a lock of chocolate brown hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear and smiled sweetly. As if on instinct, I took a step closer, extending my hand. “I’m Lukasz,” I said lamely, but pleasantly surprised I was able to find words under the scrutiny of her eyes.

“Hi, Lukasz.” She smiled wider, a little blush spreading on her cheeks. It didn’t seem like she was wearing make-up — I could detail the splattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks.

My knees felt wobbly.

I had a thing for freckles at the time.

“Move along, Casanova.” Kuba’s hands on my shoulder pushed me sideways, but I kept my eyes on her.

“What’s your name?!” I tried as Kuba kept pushing me. It was time to get on the pitch.

I couldn't make out what she said through the noise of the crowd, nor could I read her lips, since her eyes would not release me. But I promised myself, I would focus on my game, and find her afterward.

I spotted her on the stands immediately, the thirty something kids in matching shirts helped. I felt as if her eyes were on me during the whole game. Granted it was unlikely, she could be watching anyone else, but it was very distracting nonetheless.

When I saw her again, on our way to the tunnel, I smiled at her — trying to contain my panting for a bit — tempted to just go talk to her. But it was crowded, and I was a sweaty, muddy, and gross out-of-breath mess. So I went for the showers instead, a decision I would regret forever.

I skipped the icing and massages and just went straight to the showers, trying to calm myself down and gather enough courage to go talk to the green-eyed girl. I had already decided I would invite her out for dinner. That day. It had to be. I had to know her.

I was sitting on the bench, finishing getting dressed, when Mats smacked my shoulder, dropping in front of me. Kicking off his cleats off with a groan, he stretched his legs. “Guess who has a date tonight?” His smile was broad, too big for his face.

“Is that why you haven’t showered yet?” I said, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes at me, peeling his shirt off and throwing it in my direction. “This is important!”

“I met someone too. It might just be our lucky day...” I dodged the sweat drenched thing with my hand and a disgusted grunt. “So, who did you meet?”

“The girl I’m going to marry.”

“You know, for a twenty year old, you say that a lot.” I shook my head at him with a chuckle, having heard this story too many times before.

“This time I mean it. You've gotta meet this girl... I mean... she’s... there’s something about her.”

As I watched the look on his face, a feeling developed in my stomach, like I already knew who he was talking about. Slowly but surely the smile dropped from my face, and as he described her, my doubts were confirmed... it had to be her.

I mean, how many other “tiny little firecracker on a kindergarten tour” could there be out there.

He might have added a few inappropriate comments about her behind in those jeans, but that's not here nor there.

At any rate, when he finally left to shower, I stayed on the bench instead of going outside to go meet, and ask out, the green-eyed girl who was most definitely going to be Mats’ date instead of mine.

To walk away from her didn't feel like a great sacrifice at the time. I guess I hoped they wouldn't hit it off, or that Mats would move on quickly, like he usually did. But how was I to know that wouldn't happen? What was I to do when it didn't?

When we came out of the locker rooms, she was still there, and I knew it even before Mats dragged me in her direction. There was no way Mats would move on. Who would?

“Cee Cee,” Mats started. “This is my friend, Lukasz.”

She extended her hand to me this time. “Hi, Lukasz, I’m Cecilia.”

Cecilia...

My hand tingled as our palms touched, and I could have been imagining things but I could swear she took a sharp intake of breath. “Cecilia... hi...”

“He’s usually a lot more eloquent than this...” Mats laughed, smacking my shoulder.

Her laugh was tiny, as she looked down.

Our bus driver caught our attention then. It was time to go.

“I will call you later,” Mats told Cecilia. She smiled and nodded, but then her eyes landed on mine.

I nodded at her briefly, politely, and I think I smiled. At least I tried to, before I turned my back to her and moved along. For good...

Mats caught up with me, one arm around my shoulder. “She’s great, isn't she?”

I nodded, scratching my neck.

“Did you notice her eyes?”

How could I not... It was one of the first things I noticed.

“God, I can’t wait for tonight!” He said excitedly. “Where’s your girl?”

“I think she left...”

It didn't make sense to be pinning over her then. It still doesn't make sense now. Yet here I am, on her couch, failing to find a comfortable position in which my hip doesn't hurt while all I can think about is her, on that bed, with him.

Coming here was a bad idea. Driving for two hours was definitely a mistake. Staying afterward was the biggest one yet. But seeing her smile when we got here — when he got here — was definitely worth it.

I wasn't lying when I said it’s always been about her being happy. I've kept my distance from her, for four years. It hasn't been easy, especially being close to Mats, but I've had a lot of time to get it mastered.

I've always told myself that she’s happy this way — with him — that she makes him happy, and that they are in love. But as of lately, the way he treats her has declined profoundly. I've talked to him about it… several times.

I even had to convince him to come to her graduation for Christ’s sake! Offer to drive, when I can’t sit for longer than an hour without hurting, because otherwise he would not have made it.

Seeing him yell at her that day on the field, after she comes time and time again to his games, did something in me. I lost it. I had to ask her — check if she was okay — and she wasn't… she isn't.

And now I don’t know what to do, but I can’t seem to be able to stay away from her.

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