Stay Away

'playing house'

The predicament we are in is entirely one-sided because Leah does not yet know about its existence. I intend to tell her in the car, but quickly get distracted by a useless conversation, and then my next attempt is shut down by Leah's insistence to watch TV. Which naturally evolves into making out, Bojack Horseman be damned.

Settled on top of me and despite the turtleneck being tucked into my jeans, Leah's hand slides expertly underneath the fabric, continuing to distract me further from the conversation Viv has psyched me up to have. My hesitance is noticeable, and Leah pauses. Not allowing it to go further at such an awkward time of day, I gently push her off my lap. She frowns. "Something's up with you." It is the worst thing she could have said to me. "Was it the girls? I can talk to them."

It isn't a big deal, I remind myself. People sleep with people. I inhale. "No, actually." She inches closer, reclaiming the space I have wedged between us, lips parting with an unpredictable amount of patience. "Your teammates are lovely."

Her eyebrows knit together with a deepening worry. "You're scaring me."

It's not a big deal.

"I lied," I state as matter-of-factly as possible, my mouth drying out because of my over-dramatic nervousness. She blinks, surprised; maybe confused. "Remember when we played golf? I told you that I stayed away from footballers, and it... it isn't true."

We stew in silence for all of twenty seconds before Leah lets out a noise. My heart drops, afraid she is having some hysterical reaction and that I had misjudged her completely. Palm previously pressed tightly against her mouth, she removes her hand, shoulders shaking as she makes the same noise again. I realise that she is laughing. Leah is laughing. As though this hasn't been worrying me all day. "I know. Women talk." She smirks, and I wonder if I am going crazy. She is calm – happy to have the upper hand, and even more glad, in her eyes, to alleviate my obvious anxiety. "Hayley Raso, the City player. And Jackie Groennen, Man U."

"The Netherlands," I correct, falling into her little trap that is an attempt to lighten my mood. "Her club was irrelevant to me."

"Hm." She quirks an eyebrow, possibly taken aback by my bluntness, but hoping to have appeased my want for serious conversation. It is apparent that I still seem off. "I didn't ask because I don't care. You're with me now, which is what actually matters." Leah shifts her weight from one side of her body to the other, curling and flexing her fingers as her hands rest in her lap. There is more. "And... Scarlett already told me everything."

"Did you ask her?" Or was she being warned?

Leah shrugs. "I had my suspicions that you weren't telling the truth." So I did reply too quickly, then. I had wondered at that moment in time, but assumed she had not picked up on it. A curt 'no' is never a convincing answer. "Is this what's been eating you up all day? Jackie's not even in the league anymore, and I don't think I will ever have a proper conversation with Hayley Raso." She is dismissive. I sigh; she doesn't know anything.

"No, there is something I need to tell you." She stiffens with a cold, statue-like expression. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to start." It is not a big deal, I tell myself once again, deciding to keep that phrase on a loop in my brain until this unbearable conversation is over. "Three people on your team have slept with me. I never meant for you to collect yourselves in one club."

She draws in three slow, steady breaths, staring at the living room wall as though she is in the room alone. I feel like I do not exist to her for the briefest of moments. And then, with a tone that would have been monotonous if there was more to her sentence, she simply goes: "who?"