The six-month housemate

Four

FOUR

I closed the door behind me and leant against it, still smiling. God I'd missed this guy. I thought about all the good times we'd spent together, the perpetual teasing... The email. My smile faded.

When I thought about it, maybe I'd still had feelings for him at that time. Maybe that's why I felt so shocked and crushed when I'd read it. Maybe I'd somehow made myself believe that one day we could be more than friends, without really admitting it to myself. Maybe that was why I was so relieved I was not in his class the next year; I didn't have to face him afterwards. And now, my old feelings, hopes, everything, was coming back splashing in my face.

Snap out of it. You know this guy, I told myself. He's hot, he's cocky, he's full of himself. You cannot be 'just friends' with him. You're his or you have nothing to do with him. You can't fall for him. Not like all the other girls back in France and, I guess, the ones here. You cannot fall for him, whether it's for the first time or not, Emma.

I breathed in a couple of times before standing up completely, and taking out a sports bag from my suitcase. I then proceded to take out my pair of rugby studs, and a rugby ball pump to put into the bag. I also took my phone. I changed from my skinny jeans to a pair of comfortable sweat pants, and pulled my curly blonde hair up in a high ponytail. I grabbed my sports shoes to go to the park, and also for if ever I was the only one wearing studs, and headed downstairs.

I was the last one arriving in the entrance, so I got a few comments on girls taking ages to prepare themselves from Alex, which I answered with a shrug.

'Okay let's go!' Oliver said with a grin, heaving a large sports bag on his shoulder.

---

The whole way to the park were just chit-chats on London, Paris and the weather.

Yes. The weather.

We finally arrived at the park, and the boys led me to a lawn not too far from the entrance. Oliver dropped his bag at his feet and started distributing pairs of studs to his brothers. Strangely, though I understood the family was very into rugby, Tom didn't have any.

I sat down next to him.

'Why don't you have any studs Tom?' I asked gently.

'I don't play rugby officially yet, so I don't get my own pair.' He answered, envy in his eyes as he looked at his brothers pulling theirs on.

'How come? You're ten years old, aren't you? Rugby trainings start for children who are six or seven, no?'

I caught a glimpse of Oliver, clearly indicating I needed to cut it off.

Tom, however, just sighed.

'Technically, yes, but I had these big headaches when I was a kid. They stopped very recently, but before, when I had one, the only thing I could do was lie in my room in the dark, sometimes for days.' He winced at the memory. 'So if I played rugby, there was a chance I would miss some trainings, and also that I would miss the games, or maybe my headaches would be worse.' He sighed, then smiled weakly at me. 'But now they're gone, I'm going to be able to play! We're buying my studs next week before school begins.'

I felt bad for him, because I knew exactly how he felt. When you're a big rugby fan and you can't play, whatever the reason, it's hard. It doesn't only apply to rugby, of course. But now, I felt bad taking my studs with me. If I wore my studs, he would be the only one not wearing any studs, but if I didn't wear them and he discovered I'd taken them, he'd think I'd pitied him. I looked down at his feet and mentally compared his with mine. They were approximatively the same size as mine.