Always You || Patrick Cripps

39.

Patrick's POV

Slowly and reluctantly, I uncovered my face from beneath the sheets. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind me.

I slowly sat up, dragged my feet off the bed, and rubbed my knuckles onto my eyes. I stretched out my arms above my head and yawned.

The perfect wake up. No plans for the day, or anything that required my presence. So my plans for the day included looking back at highlights from yesterday's game and sleeping for a few more hours.

I didn't have a headache from last night meaning I wasn't hungover because I only had one or two drinks.

I just felt exhausted. I didn't get home until 1:00. As soon as I did get home, I crashed on my bed and passed out.

It was a good celebration of the game that we had just played. Beating any team was always a great feeling. But we were an up and coming team and we were hoping to finally able to compete for finals.

The pressure and expectations I had been dealing with all faded away as we celebrated the win. We were one step closer to eliminating all the scrutiny from the media and other supporters.

I was sick of answering the same questions about whether I thought we were good enough. The journalists never stopped asking. Did I think we could make finals? Was I going to leave if we didn't?

It was all just exhausting. But as one of 2 captains at the club, I had to answer the questions everybody wanted answers to.

All I wanted was for us to be successful and I put a lot of my pressure on myself over the last few months because I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure we got there. So last night was just a nice way to recognise all the work the boys had put in.

I was able to spend time with my friends for the first time in a while and it was enjoyable.

Without all the pressure on my shoulders that was holding me back from being happy.

As I sat up on my bed, I leaned over to my bed side table and picked up my phone. My eyes slowly adjusted to the light and as I did, my eyes opened wider to the messages that filled my screen.

Marcus. Jack. Charlie. Tash. Grace.

Georgia.

My heart dropped when I realised what I had done.

The messages of confusion and anger from my friends helped me put the pieces together and remember what had happened.

I had a billion texts and missed calls from Georgia asking me where I was. That she wanted to go home.

My first feeling was anger. That continued as I shot up off my bed and slammed my hand into the door to the hallway.

When the frustration built, I felt like I might explode. So I take a second and I take a deep breath.

I had forgotten to take Georgia home.

There wasn't anything hurtful anybody could say to me that I didn't already feel about myself.

She was petrified, frightened of being around so many people. The way she felt was always obvious to me. She was never good at hiding it.

So I tried not to push her into coming to the game, but she did. She showed up and I loved her even more for doing that for me.

But of course I took it that one step further. Selfishly absorbing the generosity of my best friend. She was always wanting to make me happy.

She always did what she thought I wanted her to do. I hated myself for not realising how much strength it must of taken for her to come to the game.