Not Just Another Boy

Chapter 2

"So...." I asked my sister, when we were safely in the car. "This Tom Wright....how old is he?"

My sister smiled. "You've only known about his existance for a little over an hour!" she said, as we pulled out of the Lancaster FC parking lot.

"I know..." I said, smiling. There was a moments silence.

"Answer the question!" I cried jokingly.

"Okay, sheesh. Tom Wright is 17 years old. He's the youngest captain Lancaster FC has ever had."

I pursed my lips in thought. 17. That's one year older than me! surely...that's some sign from god!

"And um.....He's single?" I asked, not looking at my sister directly.

"Yeah. As far as I know. My friend Susy says her mate Alice went out with him for a bit last summer, nothing serious though. Apparently he's all for short romances while he's in Lancaster, cause he travels a lot. He hates keeping in contact. Susy says Alice knew when she got into it it would be a short fling, cause he can't maintain a relationship."

My sister zipped around the corner, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Do you know where he hangs out?" I asked casually, picking my nails.

"Ohhhhh Diana! You're smitten! You don't even know the guy!" cried Angela in disbelief.

"I do too!" I replied, turning to face her.

"Look, maybe just sleep on it tonight. Think about everything that could eventuate in you pursuing a relationship with him! You're 16! What if he breaks your heart? Cheats on you? Pressures you into things? Maybe just think about that for a night. If you wake up in the morning having fully evaluated all of the possiblities and still wanting to chase him, then I'll take you to Skerton Cafe."

"Skerton Cafe?" I questioned, wondering what kind of skeezy place she would be dragging me into.

"Skerton is the suburb we were just in Diana! Where the training ground is?! Seriously? You're hopeless! I don't think you're old enough to have a boyfriend!" cried Angela, smirking.

"Oh, shut up." I rebutted. "I've already had a boyfriend. Although Joey Tremore was no Tom Wright. I'm telling you that."

Angela rolled her eyes as she pulled into our driveway. "Mum'll still be asleep ya knob, so don't go running inside telling her all about your new boyf." she scoffed.

"Angela, we are going to Skerton Cafe tommorow, whatever that is, and I am going to talk to Tom Wright. End of story." I said, climbing out of the car.

"And thanks for taking me" I said honestly. "I actually did have fun"

Angela smiled. "What have I done?" she said, grinning, smiling at me misheviously. I giggled.

"I don't even know. Go! You're gonna be late for work!" I cried, shutting the passenger door and walking up the driveway. As she drived away, I waved at her sweetly, smiling to myself.

I felt like a child at christmas! What was wrong with me? As much as I disputed Angela, she was right! I barely knew the guy!

I opened our front door and walked into the house, carefully shutting the door behind me. I looked at my watch, 11:15. I sneaked past Mum's door, trying not to wake her up. I jumped when she called me. "Diana!"

I turned around to see my mother, sitting in bed watching televison, with two pillows propped up behind her.

I walked into her room. "Mornin' Mum!" I smiled, pecked her on the cheek, and then went back to my usual "talking to mum" position, sitting on the foot of her bed.

"How are you?" I asked, wondering why she had called me in.

"Did you go with Angela to footy training?" she asked, a smile spreading across her face.

"Yes, yes I did." I giggled, and thanked my lucky stars I had a young mum, who understood, and never questioned anything too much. However, the downside of having a hipster, 32 year old mother is that she thinks she's as young as you, and she is your friend, and that its not embarrasing when she asks you personal questions.

"Which Soccer boy took your fancy?" she asked, nudging me playfully.

"Tom Wright" I answered honestlty. I tell my mum everything. Why wouldn't I tell her this?

"Ooooh, he was just interviewed on telly. He's a lovely young man..." she said, winking.

I laughed. "Yeah, he's pretty hot."

I looked at my mother, in awe. She was so much like Angela. I must be like Dad, cause I sure as hell wasn't as chilled, cool and beautiful as Mum. People often liken my Mother's appearance to that of Marilyn Monroe. She is gogeous. Effortlessly chick. Angela is very similar, however she isn't as vouluptous as Mum. She's become stick thin due to years of endless dieting. Due to hair straightening her nautural waves for years too, she now resembled Paris Hilton more than Marilyn.

I, on the other hand, have wavy brown hair, green eyes, and I'm the tallest in my family. My Mum and sister are 5'3, wheras I am 5'7. I have curves, sort of like my mother I suppose, but we are quite different in personality. I am quite academic, I can't stand not standing out in a subject (Yeah...I'm that kid.) and I spend almost all my spare time studying. Mum and Angela on the other hand would rather do anything...I mean anything....else than study.

Like I said before, Mum's a young Mum. Dad was a bit older than her, three years older I think, he was 23 when they had Angela. Dad left a year after Mum had me. We don't know where he is, Mum hasn't seen him since he left. We think he left with some of those hippy friends (you know the kind) to travel England and enjoy some sunshine, weed and no responsibilities. Mum said Dad was always a bit like that in the short few years he was a father to us.

So, now its just Mum, Angela and I. The house can get crazy sometimes, all that oestregen in one house, and no testostorone to balance it out.

I went to bed that night, and I had only one intention. To think about Tom Wright, and everything that could happen if I went out with him. Sure, he could break my heart, but any guy could do that. Cheat on me? Well, if he's a bad guy, sure he will. I have a feeling that underneath all the masculinity, he'd be a great boyfriend. I woke up the next morning with one intention, to go with Angela to the cafe.