Page 116 of How To Tackle A Crush
Ava
“Westland doesn’t shout to be heard. He just makes people want to listen.”
I hover over the sentence, reading it again.
Andrea has got him. Not the tactics. Not the results. The way heis. The quiet authority. The way he doesn’t perform confidence, he just stands in it.
I change one word. Remove another. Ben has added a paragraph about the match statistics that needs tightening. Andrea has written a line about how players describe him as “steady”. That feels right too.
This is what I like about proofreading. Taking something good and making it just a little bit clearer. Helping it say exactly what it means.
My phone rings.
I smile automatically when I see his name.
Without thinking I answer with the sentence still in my head.
“Well according to this article you don’t shout to be heard, you just—”
“Ava.”
I stop.
His voice is tense.
Too tense.
The kind of tense people use when they are holding panic together with both hands.
Something cold settles in my stomach.
“What’s wrong?”
“Alfie’s had an accident at school.”
My back straightens without me thinking about it.
“What kind of accident?”
“I don’t know exactly,” he admits. “Someone pushed him on the stairs. He fell. Hit his head. That’s all the school could really tell me.”
I picture it immediately. Small body. Hard steps. That awful hollow sound children make when they cry properly.
“Is he okay?”
“They said he was conscious. Talking. But they sent him to hospital to be checked.” A small pause. “They won’t tell me much because I’m not there. Data protection and all that.”
Of course they won’t. Of course he’s stuck hundreds of miles away hearing half information.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask quietly.
There is a short silence.
“Would you… could you go there?”
Careful. Like he’s testing ground he doesn’t fully trust yet.
“My parents are still driving up from France and won’t be back until early afternoon. And I just…” He exhales. “I just don’t want him sitting there on his own with strangers.”
