Wagwan Piffting

Chapter 8: A Little More Lighthearted

Alex knew nothing of what was going on mere feet away from his room. The headphones covering his ears blocked out the raspy sobs from George's direction, and the quiet conversation from Will's. All he knew was one thing: Football.

It was the semis– England V. Croatia– and they had it in the bag. Alex leaned back in his chair, streaming the game on one monitor with Twitter open in another, updating his followers as the game progressed.

Now we all know how the game turned out, but Alex did not. When the first goal of the game– scored by Kieran Trippier in the first 5 minutes– was shot, Alex was ecstatic, nearly falling out of his chair with cheers.

And then nothing. No goals for the next hour. Alex watched halfheartedly, cursed out some close misses, and cheered at Pickford's saves, but it felt like neither team was putting up a fight. Croatia seemed reserved like they had given up, and England seemed a little too relaxed with their lead, fumbling plays that they normally excelled at.

Halftime.

Will was still sitting in the kitchen, looking depressed as anything. Stephen was back to his pacing. George was still in his room, Josh had just left to use the restroom and grab the two of them a snack. Now that we're all caught up...

Will glanced over at Stephen, who was wearing holes in the floor at the rate he was going. "Ste, can you sit down or something? You're worrying me with that pacing."

Stephen snapped out of whatever thought process he was on, stopping to look at Will. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He pulled out one of the stools across the counter from Will. "What's on your mind?"

Will rolled his eyes, "You know what's on my mind, Ste. George hates me, his friend hates me, you probably hate me. The only person who doesn't hate me is Alex, and that's only 'cause he's been holed up in his room all day."

With a sigh, Stephen pulled himself out of his own personal turmoil for his friend, flashing him a lopsided smile, "You're wrong. I don't hate you, at least."

Will couldn't help but chuckle. "Ok, ok. Fine. You may not hate me, but I'm pretty sure I've lost a couple of friends today."

"No, no, no. Don't think like that. I'm sure you and George will be able to figure out whatever sexual tension is going on between you before August 1st."

"Why August 1st?" Will cocked an eyebrow and then realized what Stephen had said. With his face suddenly burning a thousand different shades of red, he quickly continued, "And there's nothing between us– I don't like him like that!"

Stephen laughed, "Whatever you say, Will."

"I literally just kissed you." Will glared over the counter at Stephen, ushering in awkward silence. Great. There goes his last friend.

2nd Half.

Alex tabbed out of Twitter when he heard the game starting back up, he was as hyped as ever. It was going to come home. This is it. 2018.

Croatia scores.

Alex wanted to scream. His team- no, his country was falling apart. He was falling apart.

It's alright, they could pull through- right?

Missed opportunities. Missed shots. Low morale, leading to extra time.

Meanwhile, Josh was back in George's room.

"Hey man," Josh, held out a bowl filled with crisps. George was scrolling

through Twitter, but looked up when Josh came in.

"Hey." George took the bowl. "Thanks."

Josh felt weird, he was overthinking every move. George seemed to be quietly seething over Will.

"Keeping updated with the game?"

"Yeah. We're tied up right now."

Josh nodded, grabbing a couple of crisps from the bowl.

"You... feeling better then?" Josh asked, tentatively.

George glanced over at his friend. "More or less, better than I was, that is. I guess I just needed some time to digest it all."

"Yeah..." Josh trailed off, awkwardly. Did George even realize what had happened earlier? He supposed it was for the better. Time to play the supportive friend and try to rekindle George and Will's friendship. "Well..."

He was interrupted by an agonized scream coming from down the hall. He glanced at George and the two jumped off the bed, spilling crisps everywhere. They left the room searching for the source of the scream. Josh heard Will and Stephen run up the stairs, and soon the group of four was waiting, tense, outside of Alex's room. The door slammed open.

"We lost." 

--

I didn't want to add any notes to the rewrite, but it does need to be said that this was originally written in 2018. Very topical for the time, not so much now. 

Barely remember the game other than it being a modern tragedy. Haven't watched any sports in years.