Stay Away

panic, prizes, and plans

"Is she still looking at me?" I ask Marcus, ducking my head down so that I become even less recognisable.

Leah's eyes have been burning holes into the back of my head for the entirety of breakfast. Her team and their staff make up the majority of the hotel's guests, and so are enjoying the hotel restaurant. Ever since I got here, she has been watching me. She isn't happy that I told her she should eat with the England girls. Only Sarina and Marcus know where I was last night.

"She's positioned her chair so that she has a clear view of us. I think it's, erm, Georgia Stanway, Keira Walsh, and Lucy Bronze at her table? Only Georgia Stanway has noticed." I consider hiring Marcus as my security detail. I can't remember exactly what the contract he signed included – I may want to update it. There will be an NDA in there somewhere, though.

"Please could you get me some more orange juice? And a croissant. And tell her that I am leaving soon." No one will notice, I don't think. Marcus is discreet, and the Lionesses are a raucous bunch. The rowdiness of the restaurant is perfect cover for Leah to slip out and say goodbye. We're only a secret until I tell Fleur, so she is pushing through the sneaking around. It took some convincing last night, but it has been agreed upon.

I blink and Leah is standing up, ready to come over. It seems as though she has sweet-talked Marcus into waiting for an omelette while she brings me what I requested. Rolling my eyes, I push the chair opposite me out from under the table with my foot (good leg).

"You've been ignoring me." Leah is pouting. "It's not even like we shagged last night, and no one cares, Jaimie."

She sounds a little bit hurt, but we have been over this. "Fleur does not know yet."

"You could've told her yesterday," Leah replies sharply. "I'm not stupid. I know you're putting it off."

Of course I am. My little sister has to approve of every person I date, otherwise it means nothing. I care about what Fleur has to say. She is the most important person in the world to me. "She's fragile–"

"Fleur is always fragile!"

"I'm not arguing with you over this." Leah leans back in her chair, biting her lip as she folds her arms over her chest. She looks thoughtful, but the kind that is more malicious than kind. I brace myself for something vicious, used to arguing with everyone about Fleur.

"You have a distinctive back," she chooses to say instead, watching me build walls around myself. I halt in my defences. "And some of the girls really like tennis. They've been talking about getting your autograph the whole of breakfast. They're glad you stayed here and not in a different hotel, but they don't think anything of it." Suddenly very aware of the other eyes staring at me, I realise that Leah may not have been as intense as I had assumed and that it was not only her gaze doing the damage. "You've gone red."

I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed. "I know."

"Come eat with us. They want to know about the Netherlands game last night."

It isn't as awkward as I thought it would be. A few of them ask for a picture, and then I am shown a free chair in between Ella Toone and Alessia Russo – two of England's forwards. Jordan Nobbs is opposite me. We try not to look at each other.

"Does your sister have any superstitions we should be following?" Ella asks me desperately, halfway through a three-way conversation about football in general. "Like, she is the best of the best."

"Don't tell Alexia Putellas that," I quip, much to their surprise, I think.

"Fleur is my favourite." Alessia Russo is quieter than her friend, but has an equally boisterous laugh. Her input is welcome to Fleur, who I bet can feel people talking about her from a mile away. That or she has an easily inflated ego.