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“Precisely.” His smile doubles in size.
“I think I get it. So, if the player looking to score is ahead of all of the other players in the direction of the goal, he’s offside.”
“If he’s in a position to receive the ball, yes. There should always be at least one player of the opposing team between the goal and him.”
I take a sip of my bubbly champagne, digesting all this information. “But when you run to the goal and score, sometimes you’re alone, right?”
“Yes. It doesn’t apply in that case. You can dribble your way through the pitch, sprint to the goal, and score. Offside only applies if a pass is made from one player to another who’s positioned between the opposite goal and the rest of the team. Otherwise, it would be too easy. One player could stay ahead of everyone else and just wait for his teammates to give him the ball.”
I nod slowly, grabbing another canapé. “Makes sense. This game has a lot more rules than I first thought.”
He throws me an amused look, his eyes dancing. “Are you taking a liking to football, now?”
“It bugs me when I don’t understand stuff.” I shrug. “Besides, since I’m coming to your games, it’s preferable that I know the rules.”
“Speaking of, the semi-finals are coming up next week. Do you want to come? They’ll be held here in London.”
“Sure,” I say without hesitation.
“You could bring your dad and brother, if you want. I think they’d like to come. It’s not easy to get tickets.”
“You think?” I snort. “They would die. But don’t feel obligated.”
“Not at all. I already have a few tickets, and my family can’t make it. My brother is leaving again soon, so he’s taking the kids and his wife to Disneyland Paris.”
“Well, I appreciate this. They’re going to be ecstatic.” Then, my smile falters. “Your brother is already going back?”
“Yeah. His furlough is only three weeks.”
“That sucks. I can’t imagine having to leave your family like that.”
He rubs the light stubble on his jaw. “Yeah. But it’s always been this way, so I guess it’s normal for us. Anyway, it makes the time we do spend together that much more valuable.”
“I guess, yeah.”
“You’ve never imagined living somewhere else? Away from your family?” His voice breaks a little on his last words, so he clears his throat.
I shake my head. “Not really. I almost did a trimester in Paris, but I chickened out. It’s not like I’m not super close to my dad or my brother. But it’s reassuring to know I can see them whenever I want. After all, they’re the only family I have left . . .”
“I understand.” He nods, his gaze trailing away. “Family is the most important thing.”
16
Just a Game
Roxy
Tonight is the semi-final, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t stressed about it. It’s just a game. Just a championship. Just a tournament. Hell, I’m not even playing. Despite all that, my stomach still freezes every time I think about it. I really hope the Regents win. They’ve worked hard for this, and coming out victorious would earn them the recognition they clearly deserve. I can’t imagine the mental state they’re in, the pressure. A win tonight would qualify them for the finals in Paris at the end of the month. Not to mention, it would extend my “girlfriend contract.” They just have to win.
“Looks like you’ve got some competition, Chubs,” Liam says as we approach the stadium. Indeed, there are swarms of girls wearing Wade’s name. A part of me is proud that they chose his shirt. The other part wants to rip their heads off. I have no right, though. My connection with Wade is strictly platonic.
We take our seats in the empty-for-now VIP section, and I immediately notice how packed the stands are tonight. Outside, it’s a comfortable twenty degrees, but the stakes of tonight’s game have driven up the temperature inside the stadium to scalding hot.
Liam and I leave our seats to grab some drinks, and we come across Uma along the way. We chat a bit about the Ivory launch party they’re throwing for Wade next week. I’m ecstatic to know Uma will be there, but unfortunately, that also means that other players and their partners will be going as well.
“I never thought this day would come,” Dad bellows heartily when we return to our seats. “My little girl, at Wembley, wearing a player’s name.”
His eyes are glassy, his cheeks flushed. I always knew football was important to him, but I didn’t know it mattered so much that I took an interest in the sport.
