Chapter 1
Charli Grant’s birthday party was exactly the kind of chaos Grace had expected.
Music blasted from the speakers, voices overlapped in a deafening roar, and somewhere in the background, an overly enthusiastic group was chanting:
“SHOT! SHOT! SHOT!”
Grace wasn’t exactly the life of the party type. She liked her team - loved them, even - but social events where people had to scream to have a conversation weren’t really her thing. Still, it was Charli’s party, and as her Tottenham teammate, she had no choice. The entire squad was here, so she had to be, too.
Now, she stood against the wall, a half-full beer in hand, scanning the room for her best friend, Celin. The Norwegian had excused herself for a quick bathroom trip but had somehow been sucked into a drinking game with Charli, her boyfriend Lachlan, Beth England, and Beth’s fiancée.
Grace briefly considered joining them, but the thought of inserting herself into a circle of happy couples made her stomach turn. It wasn’t that she was bitter - okay, maybe a little - but it just wasn’t a great time to be reminded of how uneventful her own love life was.
Not that she lacked options. There were plenty of interested girls. But the spark never came. Well, unless they were straight, and that… was a whole different problem.
“You look like you accidentally wandered into this party and can’t figure out how to leave.”
A voice, dripping with amusement, cut through her thoughts.
Grace startled slightly, turning her head -
Kyra Cooney-Cross.
It was impossible not to recognize her - Arsenal player, a year older than Grace, famous for that perfect blend of focus and chaos on the pitch. They’d never really spoken beyond a quick handshake after games. But now Kyra was standing next to her, a mischievous grin playing on her lips, a drink in hand.
And without meaning to, Grace felt her heart skip - just a little.
Kyra had a way of carrying herself that made her impossible to ignore. Loose black t-shirt over jeans, arms crossed over her chest, dark eyes glinting with something - mischief? Amusement?
Grace knew of her, of course - through Charli, through Matildas videos. But seeing her like this, in real life, at a party, up close, was… different.
“I’m not lost,” Grace said, her voice even as she took a casual sip of her beer, trying to downplay the fact that Kyra was undeniably pretty in a way that made it hard to focus.
Kyra tilted her head, still grinning. “Good. Then you can help me.”
Grace raised a brow. “With what?”
“A prank. For Charli.”
Kyra delivered the sentence like it was a classified mission.
Grace blinked while turning her head to focus on Kyra's words. “A prank?”
“A great prank,” Kyra corrected, nodding solemnly. “I mean, it’s her birthday. It’d be rude not to mess with her a little.”
Grace wasn’t sure what surprised her more - that Kyra was telling her this, or that she was genuinely considering helping her with it.
“And you think I’m the right person for this?”
Kyra’s grin widened. “Definitely. I’ve been watching you.”
Grace’s brain short-circuited for a moment.
“You - ?”
Kyra’s eyes widened as she processed her own words. “Oh. Okay, that sounded way creepier than I meant it to. Not, like, here - I mean, yeah, I have been watching you here, but also, like, on TikTok. But not in a weird way. I mean, I do watch your videos. But not in a creepy way - ”
She groaned, running a hand through her hair. “You know what? Forget it.”
Grace fought the urge to laugh. Who knew Kyra Cooney-Cross could be this awkward?
Before she could say anything, Kyra recovered. “Anyway. You and me? We’re the same.”
Grace narrowed her eyes. “Are we?”
Kyra nodded. “People think we’re just the funny, unserious ones on our teams. But really? We’re way smarter than they give us credit for.”
Grace couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay,” she said. “What’s the plan?”
-
By the time Grace and Kyra had secured their “war room” - Charli’s kitchen - Kyra was practically bouncing with excitement.
“Alright,” Kyra announced, pacing in front of the counter where Grace was perched, legs swinging lazily. “We’re going for subtle. Psychological warfare.”
Grace smirked, clearly amused. “Psychological warfare? Are we trying to break Charli, or just mess with her mind?”
Kyra grinned like a cat that had just spotted a mouse. “Both. We make her think something big’s coming her way, and then hit her with… well, nothing. Something so insignificant she’ll feel like a total idiot for stressing over it.”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “No flour bombs or buckets of water this time?”
Kyra scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Please, we’re above that. No mess, no fuss. Just mind games.”
Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “Classy, huh? We’ll see about that.”
Kyra ignored her, pacing again with purpose. “Here’s the trick. We make Charli believe she’s about to be publicly humiliated. But we do it subtly. Just enough paranoia to make her spiral.”
“Psychological inception,” Grace chimed in, tapping her temple.
Kyra snapped her fingers. “Exactly. Then, when Charli’s at peak panic, expecting something huge, we hit her with the most anticlimactic prank ever. Nothing big, just a little… something. Enough to make her question her own sanity.”
Grace leaned forward, clearly enjoying the plan. “I’m in. But how do we get her paranoid?”
Kyra shot her a sly grin. “We drop hints. Talk about ‘the plan’ where Charli can overhear us. Make her second guess every little thing.”
Grace nodded, impressed. “Classic misdirection. I like it.”
Kyra smirked and hopped up onto the counter next to Grace. “Speaking of things I like,” she said casually, glancing over at Grace, “your accent? It’s… quite the character.”
Grace blinked, caught off guard. Was Kyra teasing her? It was playful, but Grace wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.
“Quite the character, huh?” Grace replied, unsure whether to laugh or defend herself. “Do I really sound that odd?”
Kyra chuckled, nodding slowly. “Not odd, just… it has this charm. Like everything you say is building up to something, even if it’s not.”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “And what about your accent, then? You sound like you’ve just walked off the set of a documentary about Australia.”
Kyra gasped in mock offense, clutching her chest. “A documentary? Really? I’m offended.”
Grace smirked, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “I mean, it’s true. You’ve got that whole ‘G’day mate’ thing going on. It’s very… authentic.”
Kyra raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Authentic, huh? I’ll take that. Better than sounding like you’re still half asleep.”
Grace laughed, despite the warmth creeping up her neck. “At least I’m not the one who sounds like I’m waiting for a koala to pop by.”
Kyra grinned, nudging her lightly. “Oh, now you’re getting cheeky.”
Grace shrugged, trying to play it cool, but she could feel her cheeks warming. “Well, you started it. Just sayin’.”
Kyra leaned in just a little, her voice quieter now, but still with a teasing undertone. “So, you like my accent, then?”
Grace blinked, her heart skipping a beat. Was Kyra teasing her more than usual, or was she just imagining it?
“I mean, it’s… distinct,” Grace replied, carefully choosing her words.
Kyra raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Distinct, huh? I like that.”
Grace quickly shot back with a grin, trying to cover up the nervous flutter in her chest. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m the one sounding like a tourist in my own country.”
Kyra laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. “I’ll take ‘distinct.’ And hey, I do like it.”
For a moment, they just looked at each other, the playful tension lingering. Grace couldn’t shake the feeling that Kyra might be flirting with her, just a little. But maybe she was imagining it.
“Alright, enough about accents,” Kyra said, hopping down from the counter. “We’ve got a prank to pull off.”
Grace nodded, trying to refocus. “Right. Let’s get to work.”
-
Phase one: Paranoia.
They positioned themselves within Charli’s line of sight and started talking just loud enough.
“Everything’s set,” Kyra whispered dramatically.
Grace nodded, playing along. “We just need the perfect moment.”
Kyra let out a fake sigh. “I just hope Charli doesn’t hate us after this.”
Across the room, Charli immediately snapped her head toward them. “What the hell are you two plotting?”
Kyra barely glanced at her. “Nothin’ major.”
Grace tilted her head. “Maybe a little major.”
Charli’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, if this involves flour or water—”
“Wow,” Kyra interrupted, feigning deep offense. “No trust. No faith. This hurts, Charli. This really - ”
“Shut up,” Charli snapped. “You two are incapable of being harmless.”
The next half-hour was spent carefully feeding Charli’s growing paranoia. Every time she looked their way, they whispered just a little too obviously. At one point, Kyra intentionally let a small paper slip from her pocket - one that read:
PRANK PHASE 3: EXECUTION.
Charli scrambled to grab it, only to find the paper completely blank on the other side.
She grew tenser by the second. She flinched at every unexpected touch, eyed every drink as if it were poisoned, and refused to sit in one place for too long - just in case.
Phase two: Misdirection.
Grace and Kyra started involving other people. Beth raised an eyebrow when Kyra whispered something in her ear and nodded, then casually walked past Charli while whistling suspiciously. Celin suddenly asked Charli what size T-shirt she wore, for no reason whatsoever. Lachlan, completely unaware of the prank, asked why Charli looked so jumpy, which only made her more jumpy.
By the time they presented her with a small gift box, Charli looked haunted.
Kyra handed it over with an innocent smile. “For you, birthday girl.”
Charli stared at it like it might explode. “I swear to God - ”
Grace gestured encouragingly. “Go on. Open it.”
Charli hesitated. Then, with exaggerated caution, she undid the ribbon and slowly lifted the lid—
Poff!
A single piece of confetti fluttered onto her lap.
For a long moment, there was silence. Charli just sat there, mouth slightly open, staring at the confetti.
Then -
“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?”
Kyra collapsed into laughter, gripping the edge of the table for support. Grace buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tried (and failed) to hold back her own laughter.
“I spent the whole night stressing over THIS?!” Charli shouted, waving the empty box in the air. “I was scared to take a drink because of you two pests - AND IT’S ONE PIECE OF STUPID CONFETTI?!”
Kyra, breathless and still laughing, clapped Grace on the back. “That,” she gasped, “was a masterpiece.”
Grace grinned, eyes sparkling. “I think we just made history.”
They high-fived, and for a second - just a second - Grace’s heart did that stupid little skip again.
She ignored it.
Or at least, she tried to.
Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, making everything feel a little more intense.
Or maybe… it was just Kyra.