Chapter 2: Arsenal vs Barcelona

  Harry’s dorm room was pretty standard as far as these things went. There was a desk, of course, ornamented with a cold cup of tea from that morning and a half-finished politics assignment. The walls were littered with posters; on one wall a slightly creepy baby swam alone in a pool, chasing a dolr bill, while on the other a trio of frogs were enjoying a bottle of Budweiser. The biggest of the lot was an old poster of David Beckham, arms raised in triumph as he celebrated a crucial goal for Engnd.

  His parents had chipped in a little extra for en-suite this year, having heard from friends that this sort of upper-end mixed hall was more conducive to study than the ds only madhouse he had inhabited as a fresher. Harry didn’t mind too much, he shared a kitchen with Matt and the Bradshaw twins from the women’s team, and the four of them got on well enough in their little studio. In any case the wild antics of his first year were starting to lose their lustre and the upshot was that he had a little cubby bathroom to himself, complete with a standing shower and washbasin. The usual suspects – Boss in Motion (for the daytime) and Paco Rabin’s Millions (for nights out) stood in pride of pce beside his toothbrush and Lynx Africa shower gel.

  Harry had received his TV as a Christmas present, and it had quickly become his test pride and joy. A new style ftscreen with a 720p psma dispy, it sat perfectly alongside his PyStation 3 and allowed him to run the newest edition of FIFA in glorious High Definition. All the better, then, for him to enjoy the experience of beating Kate by three games to one.

  “That one didn’t count,” she compined, thumping the pillow and consoling herself with a swig from her can of Carling.

  “Why, what’s wrong?” Harry raised his eyebrows innocently.

  “How am I supposed to beat Germany with India? All their pyers are bloody crap!”

  “It’s the luck of the draw, babe,” Harry shrugged. It was their habit to hit the ‘randomise’ button and py whatever hand the FIFA gods dealt, but even he had to admit beating a 5-star team with one rated at 1-star was a tall order.

  “Alright,” he conceded, “How about for the next match, we each pick whatever team we like?”

  “Suits me,” she smiled, “I’ll take Barcelona.”

  “Fair enough. No excuses this time, then?” Harry grinned, scrolling to his favourite Arsenal.

  When he had unwrapped the new game on Christmas day, Harry had marvelled at the detailed cinematics and advanced graphics. Now though, after two months or so of the same show, the novelty had worn off a little, and he impatiently skipped through the scenes of the pyers taking to the field and warming up, and kicked off the game proper.

  “So, Gwen is starting her first game?” he said through the side of his mouth as they both concentrated on the screen.

  “Yeah, she’s doing really well,” Kate answered proudly.

  “Do you think she’s ready for it then? You told me that she hadn’t kicked a ball until a couple of months ago?”

  “Yeah, but she’s a really good athlete.” Kate gnced at him with a little disapproval. “She pyed hockey for Somerset, you know! And Vi’s going to be right next to her, to help out.”

  “And she’s got you with her as well, so I’m sure she’ll do great,” Harry agreed. As he spoke his fingers leapt into a furious fit of action – “That’s 1-0.”

  “Fuck off,” Kate told him, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

  Just then there was a little groan of pleasure from the next dorm room and Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I guess the German Stallion strikes again?”

  Kate sat up straight on the bed, removing her shoulders from the adjoining wall as though it were somehow unclean. “He really is a little horndog, isn’t he? The scouse girl again?”

  “Third time this week,” Harry agreed, “That’s a long-term retionship for Matt, though.”

  “Yeah, except he’s already meant to be in a long-term retionship,” Kate said mockingly, then shook her head in resignation. “Alright, turn the volume up at least, for god’s sake. Let’s do this properly.”

  They lost themselves in the game for a bit, eyes locked on the screen as the little white ball ping-ponged rapidly between the pixelted pyers. Harry scored first, then Kate answered with one of her own to bring the score to 2-1 in the final moments.

  “You’re not having this one, you bastard!” she snarled as she executed a clever py, confusing his defenders and putting Ronaldinho, the star striker, through on goal.

  “No, you don’t,” Harry grunted through gritted teeth, desperately smashing the tackle button. The little Arsenal defender duly unched himself at Ronaldinho, missing the ball entirely but bringing both the pyers down in an ungainly heap.

  ‘Pyer injured: Ronaldinho’ fshed a little caption on the screen.

  “You cheating bastard,” Kate said furiously. “You’ve injured my best pyer.”

  “You’ve got a penalty though,” Harry offered, not entirely pleased by this fact.

  “Yeah, but who’s going to take it? I’ve no-one on the bench.”

  “What about that guy?”

  Kate furrowed her eyes as she read the information on the screen. “Lionel Messi? Never even heard of him. Look, he’s only eighteen!”

  “Yeah, but he’s meant to be quite good. Anyway, you’ve no-one else, so…”

  Harry was confident the new pyer, rated at only 3.5 stars, would make for a difficult penalty, but to his annoyance Kate slotted it away comfortably.

  “You’re cute when you’re angry,” she said coquettishly, answering his little huff of frustration with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s 2-2 babe.”

  “You’re trying to distract me,” Harry flushed a little. “Alright, extra time then.”

  They jumped into the tie breaker, the outside world forgotten as they once more lost themselves in the game. Try as they might, neither was able to score again, and after ten minutes another whistle blew, and the final score showed up on the screen.

  Barcelona 2-2 Arsenal

  Harry took a deep breath as the tension left his fingertips. There was a quiet thud as the door of the next apartment opened and closed.

  “I think she’s gone.” Kate said, gncing at the wall as though she could see through it.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t like them staying over.” Harry nodded. “Besides, I think he said Georgie is coming round tonight.”

  “Georgie?” Kate’s eyes opened in disbelief. “Is he mental? His room is gonna stink of this other girl. She’ll figure him out in a moment.”

  “He’s done it before, though, and she’s never…”

  “Don’t even go there, Harry. Seriously, I hope that you’d never think its ok to carry on the way he does.” Kate eyed him carefully.

  “What? No, I would never…” Harry shook his head. “I’d never cheat on – on anyone.”

  The question had perhaps struck a nerve. ‘ – on you,’ was what he had been going to say, and yet in real life things weren’t quite so simple. Kate wasn’t his girlfriend as such, and nor had he asked her – just be the best bloke he could, someone had once advised him, and leave that sort of belling up to the girls. That said, they had been seeing each other pretty regurly even before the Christmas break, and he couldn’t deny the thought was crossing his mind with more regurity.

  “Would it be cheating,” he found himself saying despite his better judgement. “You know, if I…”

  Kate gred at him. “What? Bloody hell, If you want someone else, mate, just say so!”

  “No, Fuck, I don’t mean that. I’m trying to say I don’t want anyone else.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  Harry felt his heart do a little flip in his chest. He shouldn’t feel like this, he told himself. He was a football d, he had had half a dozen girlfriends in high school, and sown plenty of wild oats as a freshman, but Kate had an annoying habit of making him feel like he was thirteen years old again.

  “Us, I suppose,” he began slowly, “l mean, are we girlfriend and boyfriend, or…”

  “Ahh,” she furrowed her brow. “I don’t know, do we need to be?”

  Harry’s stomach tightened. “It’s what people do, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose.” She hesitated. “But don’t you think what we have is nice? No stress, no commitment? We’re like best mates, we hang out, we shag – I’m not saying I never want things to go further, but for now – Well I guess I just don’t want anything too serious?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” Harry replied automatically. He couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, but Kate’s picture was not without its own appeal. “Just thought we should talk about it.”

  “Yeah, it’s important to talk about, well, things,” Kate said a bit awkwardly. She paused for a moment and gnced down at her feet. “We could make a deal if you want? Agree to be exclusive? I mean we basically are already – I wouldn’t see any other ds at least – but just so there’s no misunderstandings?”

  Harry looked at her in confusion. “Exclusive friends-with-benefits? Isn’t that just…”

  “Not really,” she shook her head, “It’s more about feeling tied down, I suppose. Like, you know how I told you I’m applying for internships in London this summer? I don’t want to have to think about how I’m meant to juggle all that with a retionship, do you know what I mean? Trying to find time to call, check in every day. We’re young, Harry, there’s plenty to see and do before we settle down.”

  “It makes sense,” he nodded. “You’d still better call me when you have the time though.”

  Kate smiled, “Of course I will – all the time! It’s just I won’t feel like I have to. And look, I’m enjoying what we have, alright gorgeous? You’re awesome to be around, and if things develop naturally then I’m open to it.”

  Harry’s heart gave a little surge of hope as she ran her thumb down his cheek, smiled, and pecked him affectionately on the lips.

  “But for now, my darling, we have a game of FIFA to finish.” She picked up the controller and selected ‘Penalty Shootout.’

  “That just makes it random,” Harry compined, “Why don’t we just have another match?”

  She shrugged, “Don’t really feel like it. We still on for the forfeit?”

  “What do you mean, forfeit? I’m already up three games to one.”

  “So? Come on big boy – everything rides on this, alright?” She batted away the protest.

  “Fine,” Harry grumbled, focusing on the game and scoring with his first kick. Kate followed in kind and after a few moments they had scored five a piece. That meant sudden death, the next to miss would lose everything.

  “Oh?” said Kate, as Harry watched the little pyer line up for his sixth shot.

  “Everything alright?” he said absently.

  “Yeah, it’s just…”

  Something in her voice gave him pause and he turned his head in concern. “What’s wrong babe?”

  Somehow a spsh of ger had appeared on Kate’s baby blue t-shirt, darkening the material. The soft cotton clung to the contours of her bra and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little spark of excitement.

  “Honestly, I’m so clumsy, I don’t know what came over me.” She fretted in annoyance and looked about herself, “It’s no good, I can’t sit here like this, I’m soaked.”

  Somewhere far away, Harry was aware of a noise, like a little referee blowing a whistle. It didn’t seem to matter though, as Kate slipped out of her T-Shirt and cuddled up closer to him. “Wow, it’s a bit chilly in here,” she whispered, sliding under the crook of his arm and bringing him in for a deep kiss.

  For a long moment, all was pounding excitement and the smell of vender and Ghost perfume. He lost himself in her, allowing his thumb to trace along the soft flesh of her shoulders and feeling the essence of himself melt into her cat-like eyes.

  “Time’s up,” she smirked, pushing him away in contempt. Harry’s eyes shot over to the screen:

  ‘Game Over: Barcelona 6-5 Arsenal’

  “You bitch, you ran down the clock!” Beneath the banner a little repy window showed footage of the st Arsenal kicker standing utterly motionless for the allotted 60 seconds as the crowd watched on in what Harry could only suppose was abject bewilderment.

  “No, you ran down the clock,” she smiled zily, savouring her victory. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes on the game.”

  “Rematch?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, you agreed, Mister – its winner takes all. You owe me a foot rub.”

  He gave a resigned sigh. “Why am I such a fool for a beautiful woman?”

  “Most men are, I’m afraid,” Kate shrugged happily as she turned off the TV and hopped astride his p. Harry lost himself once more in her scent as she tugged off his t-shirt in turn and ran her hands over the muscles of his torso.

  “Besides, it’s not all bad – I know another little game we can py. One even more fun than FIFA.”

  *

  He smiled to himself as they y together in the dark, listening to the sound of Kate’s heartbeat as she y in his arms. She wasn’t quite asleep, he judged, since her thumb was toying with the little tuft of blonde hair on his chest, but the movements were slowing, and her breathing was growing drowsier. He couldn’t have faulted her judgement, he had decided, her game truly was much more fun than FIFA, and they had both exhausted themselves at it. The only thing now was to savour the afterglow and wait as they both fell off to –

  Suddenly, Kate’s head shot up, “Did you hear that?”

  “Wassat?” he garbled, not quite willing to fully cmber back to his senses.

  “Listen!” she hissed, silently tapping the wall they shared with Matthais’s room.

  Harry strained his ears.

  “You’re lying”

  “Shit, I think she’s caught him!” Kate caught his eye with excitement, and they both shifted a little nearer.

  “Don’t give me that same fucking story – I can smell the bitch in your fucking duvet!”

  Louder this time, and so clear there was no mistaking that it was Matt’s girlfriend, Georgie.

  “Do you ugh at me? I just want to know that. Do you and your football mates ugh at me when I’m off volunteering? Stupid fucking Georgie, doesn’t know what’s going on right under her nose. You make me sick you fucking bastard.”

  They couldn’t hear anything for a moment – Harry supposed that Matt was answering in his usual composed drawl.

  “No, I won’t leave just yet, thank you very much. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve said my piece. Now, listen to me you fucking lying whore, I’m going to make it so you never treat another woman the way you’ve treated me.”

  Then Georgie spoke again and this time it was something different. She was calmer, for one, as if the storm had passed, and though the pain and hurt had left her voice, something much worst had crawled up to take its pce, something cold and dark and awful. It sent a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he felt Kate clutch to him a little more tightly.

  “Lord-and-Lady, You, who are once Master of the Rising Sun, and Mistress of the Silver Moon, I beseech your aid. Twist and transform the flesh and mind and heart of this perverted wretch, that he may never hurt another woman with his honied poisons. Show him your wrath, I, Georgiana, daughter of your most high acolyte, beg this of you.”

  “She’s gone mental!” Kate whispered in amazement.

  “She might be drunk?” Harry offered reluctantly. Was Georgie into some sort of modern witchcraft? He knew there was a club at the university – he had seen them at the fresher’s fair, goth girls with pstic medallions that procimed their allegiance to Andraste and Hecate, who sat offering tarot readings to the passing students. It didn’t seem the sort of thing Georgie would go in for, but it was the best sense that he could make of the whole outburst; that the poor girl, in a sort of alcohol-fuelled fury, had taken it into her head to cast some sort of pagan magic spell on her phindering boyfriend. And yet, if that were so, why were Kate’s fingers locked together so tightly with his own that it hurt? And why did even the memory of Georgie’s words make his stomach clench?

  “Listen, he’s ughing at her!”

  They both strained their ears, and Kate furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “Are they both ughing?”

  It did seem that way, though the thought made no sense. There was undoubtedly male and female in the ughter and Harry thought for one horrible moment that Georgie’s mind really had broken. But no, it didn’t fit. The ughter wasn’t the same muffled voice from next door but instead it seemed to come from all around. High, cold and horrible, it permeated through the very timber of the building and echoed mockingly around the inky night sky. A pang of terror struck Harry’s heart like a lightning bolt and in panic he tried to rise, but it was too te. He tried to reach out, but his limbs felt heavy as lead, and a strange ssitude was overtaking him.

  “Kate,” he whimpered helplessly as the room started to spin. He looked to her in desperation, but her head was on the pillow and her eyes were already closed.