The game was heated.
1-1 and both teams wanted to win.
Y/n didn’t see it coming.
She was close to the Manchester United goal, ready to assist either Alessia or Foxy. Leah had played a long ball to Y/n, who jumped as the ball got closer, ready to receive it.
As the ball came closer, Y/n felt the impact of a body against her, knocking her to the ground. She felt something sharp open her inner lip and hit her forehead.
She fell on the pitch, her back hitting the grass painfully. For a moment she couldn't breathe, her lungs aching from the impact.
“Fuck,” Y/n muttered.
The crowd fell silent.
Y/n could smell grass, blood and sweat. It was a mixture of smells that Y/n was used to, but at the moment it reeked.
Her whole body ached as if a knife were slicing through her lips and forehead. She tried to move her head, but that hurt too. She could not see who crushed her.
The Arsenal players came running as soon as Y/n’s hit the ground. A mix of familiar voices reached Y/n’s ear. They were all talking at the same time, but it was as if they made no sense, it was just a blend of words being thrown around.
“She’s fucking bleeding!” Y/n heard Leah’s voice. “Stop the game! Call someone!”
The referee hadn’t blown the whistle yet. Maybe they should because Y/n was not going to get up anytime soon.
Y/n felt lightheaded like she was going to pass out any time soon. She wanted to stay there on the pitch, the grass hugging her, even though it irritated her skin.
Okay maybe her brain wasn’t getting all the oxygen it needed. She felt dazed.
“There’s been a head clash here! Where are the bloody medics?”
Someone said Y/n wasn’t sure if it was Kim or Katie, maybe it was Jen. Oh no, Jen had retired a couple of seasons ago, hadn’t she? Wow, they really needed to get someone to help her out.
Her teammates, whether retired or not, sounded worried. Was it bad, maybe her injury was worse than she thought it was.
Y/n felt like she was dying, but her teammates usually just called her dramatic when she was tackled in a game.
Was she being dramatic right now?
She wasn’t sure. But she was tired though. And it hurt.
She wanted to rest. Maybe she should do that.
“No, don’t. Keep your eyes open,” Y/n felt the warmth of a hand holding hers, “They’re going to take you to the infirmary, okay?”
“Damn, she’s out.”
Was the last thing Y/n heard before everything went black.
..
“Y/n?”
Y/n forced herself to breathe. The air went in and out of her lungs, and her back didn’t hurt anymore, just the slight discomfort of being tackled and lying down on a hard surface.
Was she in a hospital? The bed she was in felt like a hospital bed. It was uncomfortable.
“Y/n, you need to open your eyes, I know you are awake,” the voice said again. It wasn’t familiar to Y/n, but it seemed to belong to an older woman.
Y/n tried to do what the woman asked her. She carefully opened one eye and then the other, but the lights in the room were too bright. She decided to close them.
Y/n didn’t remember exactly what happened. She was on the field playing, then someone crashed into her, and then she was out. She had a faint memory of Leah’s voice saying something to her as she was being carried off the pitch on a stretcher.
The first shock of pain hit her.
Y/n whimpered, bringing her hand to her lip and then to her forehead. Both places were wet and tender. Two very fresh bruises.
Medicine. Why hadn’t they given her some painkillers? If she was in a hospital, it must have been a bad one because she was in pain, her mouth tasted like iron.
Y/n tried to open her eyes again, the light was not as intense as before. She removed her hands from her face and looked at them, they were red.
Blood, fresh blood. She had been hurt and it hadn’t been long ago.
Why did it feel like days?
“Don’t look at it,” the older woman said, taking Y/n’s hands and cleaning them with a tissue.
“What hospital am I in?,” Y/n asked the woman.
“We're in the infirmary, the stadium’s infirmary,” another voice said beside Y/n. The voice was calm, not as energetic as the other women’s, and it was younger.
It was probably the person who had bumped into Y/n.
She was so disoriented that she hadn’t even noticed that someone else had been hurt as well. But if the pain on her face was any indication of how hard they had bumped into each other, the other player was probably in bad shape too.
She tried to turn her head around, but it hurt too much, so she just kept staring at the person in front of her.
Nurse Mary, the badge said. She had a kind, round face.
“Are you all right?” The younger voice said again.
Y/n tried to remember who the voice belonged to. She was being marked by Gabby George and Millie. T seconds before she was hit, but they were in front of her and the collision was caused by someone running to her side. So Y/n didn't see who it was.
Y/n turned her head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl, but the movement was too fast and nausea hit her stomach.
“Mary, I'm gonna throw up,” Y/n warned the nurse.
A few seconds later there was a bucket right next to her.
Y/n emptied her stomach. The vomit was mixed with blood from her new injuries and she just wanted to go home, put an ice pack on her face and pretend this day never happened, especially after throwing up in front of two strangers.
Nurse Mary patted Y/n’s back maternally. “It's okay, honey. You’ve got a concussion, it's normal to feel nauseous. Miss Grace here also had a concussion.”
Grace? Grace Clinton?
Great, she had puked in front of Grace Clinton. Not embarrassing at all.
Y/n had the vaguest recollection of seeing Grace in the tunnel as they walked to the pitch. She had her hair in a low bun and her shirt looked a size too big for her.
Grace was a midfielder for Man United, she was very young but very skilled. Y/n had never had the chance to talk to her before, but Leah had told her once that Grace was very calm on the pitch and that she should mark her, but not be too aggressive about it, as Grace herself had a chill style of play.
“You bumped heads during the game,” Mary continued. “It wasn’t too bad, so there was no need for an ambulance.”
Y/n felt like she had been hit by a whole bus, not just bumped heads. Clinton was strong, so it made sense that she was in so much pain from the collision.
“–But you Y/n got the worst of it, Grace’s teeth bit your inner lip open when you both fell,” Mary added.
Grace's teeth?
That explained why she felt like her lips were split open.
When Y/n opened her mouth to ask Grace if she was all right, a wet, cold cloth was pressed into her face.
“Ouch! Fuck, it hurts,” Y/n said angrily, but regret quickly struck her. She shouldn't be yelling at Mary.
“I-'m sorry, it just…”
“Hurts?” Mary finished the sentence for her.
“Yeah,” Y/n mumbled, accepting the cloth to her face, the coldness of it helping with the burning sensation and easing her pain. She stayed with the cloth for a few seconds before Mary took it away from her.
“You two sit nice and still, okay?” Mary said. “I need to get some supplies in the other room, but I’ll be back.”
“I’ll talk to your teammates, too, Y/n,” she said, turning to Y/n now. “They were quite a bit worried about you, especially the skipper.”
Before Y/n could reply Mary left.
She and Grace were alone in the small room, the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant filling Y/n’s nose. She hated it.
Y/n slowly sat up on the bed and finally looked at Grace, who was sitting on the bed next to her.
Her back was propped up against two pillows, she was still wearing her Manchester kit, stained with dirt and blood. Her hair was down around her shoulders, a few leaves of grass lying in between the strings.
Should Y/n tell her about the grass? Well, given Y/n’s situation, she wasn’t really in a position to judge. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but she knew she was a mess.
Grace had a very soft, baby-like face, with delicate features, but right now she looked like she had come back from war. Her bottom lip was swollen, with a deep cut on it. Y/n couldn't see it properly because Grace was holding an ice pack against it, but from what she could see it was obvious that the girl’s lip was just also bruised.
“Your mouth–” Y/n said, pointing at Grace.
“Yeah, yours doesn't look too different either,” Grace said, removing the ice from her face. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I don’t remember how it happened.” Y/n admitted.
“Tooney made a high pass, I tried to get it with my head and I didn’t see you were close,” Grace said with a sad smile. “They say we bump heads but I pretty much bit your lip off, too”
“it hurts,” Y/n said in a low voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“It's okay. Are you okay?” Y/n asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine, but we’re gonna have to get stitches though,” Gracie said casually as she leaned back on her bed.
Stitches.
Great.
“I don’t think I’ll need stitches,” Y/n said, trying to sound stoic. She couldn’t freak out in front of Grace Clinton.
She was terrified of needles and anything that had to go into her skin. She didn’t even have any tattoos for that reason. Y/n was most definitely not going to get stitches, nonetheless here in the Man United infirmary. If it was in Arsenal’s infirmary might be cool about it.
“Well, I can barely understand what you’re saying because of how much your lip is so busted, so I think you are going to need stitches,” Grace said with an amused smile on her face. “She’ll put a numbing cream on it, you won’t feel a thing, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.” Y/n lied, her trembling hands betraying her. She quickly tried to hide them by sitting on her hands, but then her feet began to move anxiously.
Grace looked Y/n up and down, an understanding smile on her face. “You don’t have to act tough, it’s okay.”
Y/n felt a rush of blood to her cheeks. “I’m not acting tough,” she muttered, looking down.
She was a grown woman with a fear of needles. She felt silly.
Mary came in, a box written with suture materials on her hand.
Y/n went pale. Maybe she was going to throw up again.
“Okay sweeties,” Mary said enthusiastically, as if she enjoyed sewing people up. “Good news first: I found the anaesthetic cream,” she held up the small tube up as a prize.
“And bad news: we’ve got to be quickly because Y/n’s bus is waiting for her to leave, so let’s get going!” Mary continued.
Good to know that Y/n hadn’t been completely abandoned by her teammates in the middle of Manchester.
“Y/n, let’s get you stitched up first, yeah?”
Y/n gulped and opened her mouth, but she froze and couldn’t say anything. She looked frightened at Mary terrified and then at Grace.
“I can go first, Mary,” Grace said, holding up her hand. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay, then,” Mary said.
The nurse took the suture kit and walked in Grace’s direction. Y/n couldn’t see what Mary was doing because her body was directly in front of Y/n. The girl could only hear the nurse open the cream, and then it was quiet.
Mary started stitching Grace up. Grace didn’t make a sound or move. Y/n was in awe, she just couldn’t believe that she was being switched up and not shaking all over.
In less than 10 minutes Grace’s stitches were done. They were just on her lips, in the same place where Y/n would get hers.
The stitches were small, they looked raw and swollen, but the scar would be tiny.
“Okay, you’re good to go, honey, just make sure you don’t carry any heavyweight until your bruise is completely healed.” Mary patted Grace on the back as the girl got up from the bed.
Mary turned to Y/n and pointed at her. “Now it’s your turn, lie down on the bed for me please.”
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat again.
Okay, she could do it. All she had to do was breathe in and out.
Y/n tried to breathe, but the air didn’t reach her lungs. Her hands started to tremble. She shook her head and put her hands in front of her body, not letting Mary get any closer.
“I don’t want to,” Y/n said, trying to get away from Mary. “I’ll get stitches when I get back to Arsenal.” She was most definitely not going to do that.
Mary looked at her like she was a child.
“And are you planning to sit on a 4-hour drive to London with blood dripping from your forehead and mouth?” Mary asked patronisingly. “Don’t be silly, there’s no way a player like you is afraid of a few stitches, now lie down, I haven’t got all the time in the world and neither have you.
Okay, Mary wasn’t so nice anymore.
If Y/n hadn’t just had a concussion, she’d swear she’d seen the slightest frown on Grace’s face.
Y/n was embarrassed. She was a professional player and she was afraid of stitches, blood and needles. Y/n’s worst nightmare wasn’t to tear her ACL, but to suffer some kind of laceration during the game. And right now her nightmare had come true.
Her brain was already planning an escape route. There was nothing in her contract that said she had to go through with medical procedures if she didn’t agree with them.
And yes, her teammates would not enjoy spending 4 hours on a bus with someone bleeding, but what could they do? Put her on a train and send her off to London on her own.
If she could just get Mary to look away for a second, maybe she could reach the door and…
Y/n felt a dip in the mattress by her side.
“You guys won, did you know it?” Grace said, smiling at Y/n. “Cooney-Cross scored, 2-1 to Arsenal.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to distract me, I know it.”
“I just want to talk, really,” Grace said relaxed as if the infirmary was her favourite place to make small talk. “
Mary put the numbing cream first on her forehead and then on her lips. It stung at first, but then she couldn’t feel her skin anymore, as if it was anaesthetized.
Y/n breathed in and out again, trying not to panic. She would get stitches and she would be fine.
She closed her eyes.
“Who-who assisted Kyra?” Y/n questioned. If Grace was being kind enough to help her, Y/n would cooperate as well.
Mary’s cold hand found her skin. She didn't know if she was getting the stitches yet. Maybe not feeling them was worse than feeling the pain, at least she could understand what was happening.
“That Fox girl, I think her name is Emily, right?” Grace said. “Is she American?”
“Uhum,” Y/n said.
Breathe in and out. She just had to pretend there weren’t any kind of needles near her face.
“Now I’m going to do your lips, just keep them closed, Y/n,” Mary said.
If she was working on Y/n’s lips then maybe she was done with her forehead? She didn’t feel any pain, so it was probably good.
“I’ve always wanted to visit America,” Grace said, more to herself since Y/n couldn’t answer her. “I saw that Arsenal played in Washington last season, I hope Man United can play there too, it would be fun to travel with the girls.”
Y/n smiled, thinking about the trip. It was really a nice change of scenery to play in America. The crowd was different, the weather was warmer. It was a good memory.
“Try not to smile now, honey,” Mary said. “I’m almost finished here.”
“We’ve got a game in France next week, it’s just a friendly against Lyon, but it’ll be nice to get away from England’s winter,” Grace continued. “Not that the weather in France is any better at this time of the year. But still, I would rather be cold and eat a good croissant.”
Y/n wanted to smile at Grace again but remembered Mary’s scolding.
“And we’re all done here!” Mary said, clapping her hands. “Now you’re both free to go, I’ll email each of your clubs what we’ve done so they can include it in your medical report.”
Y/n opened her eyes and was met with Grace’s face. She looked pretty, even with the stitches on.
“Thank you, Mary,” Y/n and Grace said in unison as they left the infirmary. They were met with a silent and empty corridor.
Manchester United Stadium was pretty and clean, but it was way too dark to see anything. The hallways were gloomy and Y/n wasn’t a fan of the dark.
“Thank you for what you did there,” Y/n said, looking up at Grace, she couldn't really see her face, but Y/n knew she was there by the subtle touch of their hands as they walked. “You didn't have to, you’re probably late now and–”
“I know I didn’t have to,” Grace said as they walked through the corridors. “I just wanted to do it.”
Y/n honestly didn’t know where she was, she was just following Grace, hoping that the girl knew her own team’s stadium better she did.
“But you were scared and it was my fault that you had to get stitches at the end of the day,” Grace continued. “Besides, it was nice talking to you.”
Y/n blushed slightly. “You still think that even after I threw up in front of you and almost had a panic attack because of some stitches?” Y/n said half-jokingly, feeling a small shiver as their hands touched again
“Well, I did cut your lip open with my teeth, so I’d say we’re even,” Grace joked, turning left into a hallway that was less dark than before.
“It’s a very physical game, it’s bound to happen,” Y/n said smiling. “You don’t have to apologise.”
They walked on until Y/n finally realised where she was. She was near the changing rooms for the away and home teams. Next to the changing room was the media room, where the players, but mainly the technical staff, answered questions from sports journalists.
There were a lot of voices coming from the media room, it looked busy.
Y/n took a quick look inside the room and saw both Arsenal and Man United managers answering questions.
She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was, though, because in a matter of seconds a girl with a badge that said ‘Media’ was standing in front of her and Grace, mobile phone in hand.
“Hi girls, I’m Tara, I work for the Barclays Women's Super League’s Instagram and I was wondering if I could get a picture of you two together?” The woman asked nicely. “The fans are worried about your injury, so it would be nice to give a little update.”
“Would it just be a picture? Or an interview? We can’t talk much because of our lips,” Grace said, pointing at Y/n’s mouth and then at herself. “We just got stitches.”
“Just a picture to put on the Instagram feed,” Tara explained professionally. “If that’s all right with you, guys?”
Grace and Y/n exchanged a look and then nodded to Tara, who smiled and asked them to stand in front of one of the lights in the hallway.
Grace took a step closer to Y/n and gently placed her hand on Y/n’s hip. They smiled as Grace made the peace sign with her hand.
Y/n missed Grace’s hand after she had taken it from her body. It was warm, she liked it.
“Okay, that’s great! Thanks, girls,” Tara said after looking at the picture on her phone. “I hope you make a full recovery”
Tara left, leaving Y/n and Grace alone.
“We should probably go before more journalists come, I don’t really feel like talking to them,” Grace said.
“Well, we actually can’t talk much, anyway.”
They walked until they reached a door with the words “Player’s car park” on it. Grace opened the door for Y/n and they were greeted by the Manchester night.
Y/n quickly spotted the Arsenal bus. She even forgot that her teammates were waiting for her, they must be tired of waiting. It was already late.
Y/n turned to Grace “Thanks again, for staying with me…and being so nice,”
Grace smiled, “You don’t have to thank me, it’s alright, I’m the one who should thank you, if it was any other player they’d be mad at me for the injury, it was reckless.”
“I don't think anyone could be mad at you,” Y/n said, looking into Grace’s green eyes
“Oh they could,” Grace joked, looking around the car park. “Sorry again for hurting you, I hope it heals soon”
“It will, I’ll take good care of it,” Y/n said.
“Good. I’ll see you around, yeah?” Grace said.
“Yeah, of course,” Y/n said, feeling warmth in her cheeks. Grace was pretty, very pretty.
“Bye them, have a safe trip,” Grace waved before walking to a car parked on the other side of the parking lot, Y/n assumed it was hers.
Y/n made her way to the Arsenal team bus, but when she opened the door all she could hear was her teammates yapping.
“I think I should go check on her,” Kim said worriedly. “She’s been there for an hour!”
“I already talked to the nurse, she said it would take some time to stitch her up, mate, be patient,” Leah said.
“And that’s why somebody should go with her, Y/n is scared of needles, how is she going to get stitched up alone?” Kim stated.
“Kim, mate, relax! You always fuss over us, Y/n's fine, I just spoke with the nurse.”
“Of course, I fuss over you guys, I’m the captain! And you, Leah,” Kim said pointing at the blonde, “should do the same, since you’re co-captain.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll go! You’re talking as if I didn't stand by the infirmary door like a dog until the nurse kicked me out,” Leah muttered as she walked down the steps of the bus.
As she walked down she came face to face with Y/n.
“Oh look who’s here,” Leah said smiling, stopping in her tracks, she turned around and shouted, “Guys, she’s here!”
Leah took Y/n’s hand and the two girls walked into the bus. It was mostly dark, with an annoying smell of the peanuts Katie was always snacking on.
When the girl saw Y/n they all smiled at him.r
“Hey girl, how are you?” Alessia said, getting up from her seat to give Y/n a hug. “I was so scared when you fell there was so much blood on Grace's face! And the referee took forever to stop the game.”
Leah put a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. “You fainted, I thought they were going to call an ambulance. Don’t do that again, please”
“Do that again? You’re saying it like I wanted to get my forehead and lips cut open,” Y/n mumbled, waving and smiling at Kim.
“Leah and Kim were so angry,” Katie said from one of the last seats, “I think the only reason Leah didn’t scream at Grace was because she was hurt.”
“Of course, I wanted to scream! What was she thinking, jumping on you like that?” Leah said, her protective side showing as she squeezed Y/n’s shoulder a little harder. “She knows better than that. If it had happened at Camp, Sarina would’ve benched her on the spot.
“Come on Leah, you’d never forgive yourself if you shouted at Gracie girl,” Beth said, “she’s a sweetheart when we play for England.”
“Plus, I don’t think she saw Y/n, she wasn’t even looking at her side,” Kim said, “But let’s forget about Grace, how are those stitches? Did you panic?”
“Yeah I kind of did, but Grace talked me through it,” Y/n said, sitting down in her usual spot next to Alessia, the blonde wrapping her arms around her.
“That seems like grace, she is like the nicest person ever,” Alessia said. “And she gives great hugs too.”
“Okay, now you’re all making me feel bad for getting mad at her,” Leah said, rolling her eyes and sitting down in her seat a few rows away from Y/n.
“So y/n, tell me, do you think the game was mind-blowing or what?” Kyra said teasingly, sitting in the row right behind Y/n and Alessia, Steph by her side.”
“Too soon to be making puns about her bruise, you menace,” Steph said, playfully smacking Kyra on the head. “At least wait until it heals.”
..
The Arsenal team have been on the road to London for two hours. Everyone was asleep, some girls had their sleep masks on, and others were wrapped in blankets.
Everyone except Y/n.
The pain in her lip and forehead was bothering her and she didn’t have any painkillers she could take, she’d have to wait until she got home to take some ibuprofen. The pain was the main reason why Y/n was awake and playing games on her phone next to a very sleeping Alessia.
Y/n had set the screen brightness to the lowest possible, the bus was completely dark, which made her feel furtive in some sort of way.
She was halfway through with her Sudoku when she got a notification on her Instagram.
Barclays Women’s Super League tagged you on their post.
Y/n quickly clicked on it and in a matter of seconds, the picture of her and Grace appeared on her screen.
“A tough game, but both players are on the mend! ⚽” read the caption. There were an awful lot of comments on the post already. Maybe people were really worried about them.
The picture was cute.
Well, Grace looked cute. Y/n looked awful, her kit was completely dirty with grass, blood and mud, her hair was in a messy bun, and you could literally see the sweat on her neck. Gross.
Y/n’s stitches looked awful as well, they were very red, swollen and just raw.
Of course, Grace didn't look much different from Y/n, neither of them had had a chance to shower before the photo, but still, for some reason, Grace still looked pretty in her Manchester United kit.
Y/n stared at the picture, then the picture stared at her back.
She clicked on the post and saw Grace’s Instagram handle. She clicked on it and started scrolling through Grace’s profile, but not in an I'm-obsessed-with-youIm-obsseed-with-you way, more like a you-were-so-nice-i-want-to-get-to-know-you-better way.
Her Instagram was like any other player's. Lots of pictures of her on the pitch, in training, and at camp, but not much about her private life, unfortunately.
Y/n didn't know why she felt so creepy while scrolling through Grace’s Instagram, It wasn’t like it was wrong or weird, they just met and y/n wanted to know more about her… see if there were any hobbies she was interested in in in, what places had Grace had been, and stuff like that.
Grace seemed like a very nice person through the lens of Instagram. She seemed very dedicated to football, loyal to a few of her friends, and funny but also private.
Y/n wasn’t much different, she also didn’t like to post much about her life outside of football on social media. She and Grace had this in common.
Y/n went back to the picture of them together.
Maybe she should comment on it. Something casual, something funny, but not bold.
Stitch up buddies! she wrote, but then deleted.
God, that was so lame.
Matching tattoos are overrated, so we got matching stitches instead.
That was good. It was casual, it didn’t sound like she was flirting.
She hit send.
Then she dramatically put her hands in her face. “Bloody hell why did I do that?” she whispered to herself, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.
Would Grace think she was weird? She didn’t tag Grace on the comment, maybe the girl wouldn’t even see it and they’d just get on with their lives. Maybe she could delete it.
Y/n waited a few seconds before unlocking her phone again. She decided to finish her Sudoku, maybe it would help her fall asleep.
When she was almost done with a square her phone buzzed. She read the notification.
Grace Clinton replied to your comment.
Y/n’s heart dropped. She hesitated before opening the notification.
No one I’d rather get stitches with❤️
Y/n smiled as she read it, feeling like a giggling teenager with a secret crush.
Grace saw her comment and replied to it, and put a heart emoji next to it and it was a red heart emoji. Y/n stared at the comment for a few seconds before deciding she needed big help.
“Hey Less,” Y/n nudged Alessia, who was sleeping, face against the window, wrapped in an Arsenal hoodie. “I need your help.”
“Mm?”
Y/n place the phone on Alessia's barely awake face, she squinted her eyes because of the sudden light and pushed it away slightly, confused.
“What does a heart emoji mean?” Y/n asked,
“Huh?” Alessia said again, still sleepy.“What are you talking about?” She rubbed her eyes.
“A media girl took a picture of me and Grace after we got the stitches and they posted it, see here” Y/n showed Alessia the picture, but the girl still looked barely awake.
“Okay–?”
“So I commented on it, and Gracie replied to my comment!” Y/n did the same thing, showing Alessia the screen, but this time Alessia took the phone to read it herself.
“Oh,”
“Oh? What does "oh" mean?” Y/n said worriedly.
Alessia smiled at Y/n, a little grin on her face, something you didn’t normally see from Alessia. “Oh as in she used a red heart! That's good, oh.”?”
“Yes! That's what I thought, she could choose a blue one, right or even a yellow one?” Y/n said enthusiastically. “But do you feel like she picked it in a friendly way or…”
“What are you guys on about?” Kyra chimed in from the seat behind Y/n, just her face sticking out of the side of Y/n’s seat. “
“Y/n has a crush on Grace,” Alessia said in a low voice.
“I-What?! It’s not a crush, stop it,” Y/n denied, frowning. “It’s–I just think she’s cute, that’s all.”
“Oh wow, a crush, huh?” Kyra said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Are you star-crossed lovers? She bit a part of your lip and now she has a piece of your heart?”
Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed Kyra's face back into her row. “You’re so annoying, go back to your seat.”
“What are you going to do about that comment?” Alessia asked, ignoring the usual bickering between Kyra and Y/n.
“I don’t know. What do you think I should do, Less?” Y/n asked.
Alessia and Kyra were Y/n’s go-to girls for every problem she had, although she always leaned more towards Alessia when her problems involved other people.
“You should reply to it,” Kyra said, sticking her head back to Y/n’s row. “Drop a heart too, I dunno, but you can’t just leave it at that.”
“How do you even know what we are talking about? I haven’t even told you what she commented” Y/n turned to Kyra.
“I was eavesdropping,” Kyra admitted, “You guys were whisper-yelling.”
“No, we were not,” Y/n argued.
“Yes you were, you should be grateful that Kim sleeps with earplugs. Do you remember the last time we woke her up during a trip? She made Less cry.”
“She scares me sometimes,” Alessia said, looking into the void.
“Guys back to the real problem!” Y/n said, pointing at her phone. “Should I just like the comment and say anything? Or maybe I don't like it at all?”
“Can I take a look at it?” Kyra asked a pout on her face. “Please?”
“Yeah, of course, babe,” Y/n said, giving the phone to Kyra.
She was so bad at socialising and interacting with people in general, especially the ones she found attractive, like Grace.
She wasn’t even sure if Grace was into girls. Then again, she was a football player, so there was at least a 75 per cent chance—but still. Y/n bit her lip out of anxiety, but a sharp pain came, she forgot she had just got those damn stitches.
“Oh no,” Kyra whispered.
“What?” Y/n and Alessia turned their heads at the same time, not so much as whisper-yelling anymore.
“I liked one of her pictures,” Kyra admitted, talking fast “I’m so so sorry Y/n, I just disliked it back, but she’ll get the notification anyway.”
Y/n went pale. Fuck no.
“Kyra!” Y/n said, taking the phone out of her hands.
“Was it an old picture?” Alessia asked, biting her nails and looking from Kyra to Y/n. “Y/n don’t freak out, it’s okay.” She put a hand on Y/n's back and patted it.
“I think it was from 3 years ago,” Kyra said. “I just wanted to see her profile! I’m really sorry!”
“I’m gonna eat broken glass,” Y/n said. No expression on her face.
Alessia put her arm around Y/n. “It’s okay, maybe she won’t even notice, she must get a lot of notifications all the time, she probably won’t see yours.”
“Yeah! Especially after a game, people go crazy when we play,” Kyra said guiltily. “I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to.”
“It’s okay, Ky,” Y/n said, leaning into Alessia's shoulder as Kyra’s hand patted her arm.
“I guess I’ll just never play against Man United ever again,” Y/n continued, biting her nails. “It’s not like football is my only talent, I can quiet it. That’s a good option.
“When’s our next game against United anyway?” Alessia asked, ignoring Y/n ramblings.
“In two months,” Kyra replied. “But it’s just a friendly.”
“Just so you know I’ll have a serious case of period cramps by then. Y/n said. “Renée will have to bench me.”
Y/n was in distress. Now Grace was going to think she was some kind of weird stalker going through old pictures of her. She wanted to hide away in her bed and never come out into the world ever again.
Y/n’s phone buzzed again, unexpectedly.
The three girls held their breath.
“I can’t look at it,” Y/n said, giving her phone to Alessia and burying her face in her shirt. “You look at it.”
Alessia took the phone as Kyra moved her head to see the screen.
“Oh she definitely noticed you,” Alessia said teasingly. “She just followed you! Yay! ”
“What!?” Y/n said, taking her face out of her shirt. “She followed me?!”
“And liked your last post about helping stray animals,” Kyra said, holding the phone to her face.
Y/n felt disappointed. “Really?
“No, I'm kidding, she liked a selfie, and an old one too, from 2021,” Kyra smiled as she jabbed from Y/n playful punch. “Congrats, she likes you back,”
“Now Y/n, you have to say ‘Kyra thank you so much, your mistake was a blessing in disguise, I’m so lucky to have you as a frie–”
“Who likes you back?”
The three girls turned their heads.
Leah was staring at them, arms crossed, frown on her face, her pillow tucked under her arm. She looked tired.
“W-what?” the girls said in unison.
“Did we wake you up? Kyra said, trying to give Leah one of her sweet smiles, but the frown on Leah’s face continued.”We’re sorry,”
“Yes you did, you’re out here giggling like schoolgirls,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t matter, at least Kim is still asleep. If she woke up we’d have a problem.”
They all looked to their left where Kim was in a deep sleep.
“Last time she woke up–”
“Yeah, we remember,” The girls answered Leah again in unison.
“But back to the point,” Leah said. “Who likes you back?”
The bus was silent.
“Oh come on, it’s the least you can do after waking me up,” Leah said, crossing her arms. “You know I never pry on your life, just tell me this once.”
Y/n looked at Alessia, then at Kyra, waiting for them to come in and elaborate a straight-up lie so she wouldn’t have to admit to Leah that she had a crush on the girl who sent her to the infirmary just three hours ago.
“I think Grace Clinton is cute.” Y/n quickly and defensively, crossing her arm and imitating Leah.
Leah grinned. “Grace Clinton, huh? Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Do you have something for a girl who draws you a little blood? “
“Stop it, Leah, don’t say it like that!” Y/n blushed. “I think she’s cute and kind…and I’m not embarrassed about it.”
“I mean… yeah? Why would you be embarrassed about it? ” Leah said with the i-don’t-really-care-that-much usual tone in her voice, " She is a nice girl.”
“Yeah, she is,” Y/n stated, a little defensive.
Ok, maybe she should let her guard down, neither Alessia nor Kyranorr Leah were judging her for her little crush.
“She just helped me calm down with the stitches,” Y/n explained. “And she’s pretty.
“You should just ask her out whenever we have a game around Manchester or London,” Leah said casually. “You could take her out to dinner, or to some coffee shop you like.”
“You say that as if it’s easy to just ask someone on a date,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.
Leah looked at her confused. “Well, it is easy. You just have to ask them. If they say yes you go on the date and if they say no you just say ok and move on.”
“Things just work that way because you are Leah,” Y/n said, defeated. “I'm not like you, I'm not naturally charismatic or good with other people”
“I think you’re quite charming if that’s any consolation,” Kyra said, winking at her.
“It absolutely does not, Ky, but I appreciate you throwing me a pity bone,” Y/n said desolated.
Leah held out her hand, palm open. “Give me your phone–I’ll fix it in like ten seconds.”
“What, no!” Y/n said, holding her phone close to her chest, and protecting it.
“Why not? If you’re too scared I can ask her for you,” Leah rolled her eyes.
“I think you should do it,” Alessia said. “Or else you’ll regret not doing something about it,”
“Yeah, and you’ll whine about it every girl's night,” Kyra said. “Do it, come on.”
“What if she says no?” Y/n whined.
“Then you’ll get over it,” Leah said bluntly. “Haven’t you ever been rejected before?”
“No!” Y/n said. “I’m never the one who initiates anything.”
“Bloody hell, you’re hopeless.” Leah pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Leah!” Alessia said in a more stern voice. “Don’t say that, you have to encourage her.”
Leah held Y/n’s shoulder and leaned forward so they were the same height.
“You can’t be a coward forever,” Leah said, using her authoritative voice. “You need to woman up, are you a chicken or are you a girl?”
Y/n was silent for a few seconds.
“A girl,” she mumbled.
“Exactly, a girl, so let’s do it!”
Y/n thought about it and hesitantly handed her phone to Leah. “Don’t be too bold or too flirty or too Leah about it,”
Leah rolled her eyes but took the phone.
“Hey, Grace. Coffee next time we’re in Manchester or London?” Leah said aloud as she typed.
“No, that's too direct!” Y/n said
“Oh fine,” Leah huffed. “Hi, let me know if you’re ever around London, we could grab something to eat, xoxo.”
“I don't use xoxo.”
Leah looked at Y/n impatiently and clicked on the screen with more force than necessary, deleting the last part. “ok, no xoxo.” she huffed again.
Leah finished typing but didn’t hit send right away. She picked up the phone, teasing Y/n: “Are you going to do it, or should I?”
Y/n takes a deep breath, grabs the phone, and hits send herself—a small victory for her confidence.
“She’s gonna say yes, I can feel it,” Kyra says dramatically as Alessia hugged Y/n.
Y/n stared at her phone, her heart hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t take it back now. Well, she could, but that would be humiliating. The message was out there, sitting in Grace Clinton’s DMs, waiting to be read.
“See?” Leah smirked. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Y/n groaned and buried her face in her hoodie. “I’m never doing that again.”
“Oh, babe,” Kyra cooed, patting her head. “You’re gonna have to survive until she answers first.”
Y/n peeked at her phone screen one last time before locking it. Maybe getting stitches had been less painful than this.