Page 18 of Almost Ours

Cam is still pretending to wank off the imaginary dick on Oscar's head when he suddenly freezes mid-motion, eyes flicking over Oscar's shoulder. He notices me and I nearly turn on my heel and bolt.

"Ohhh," he says loudly, pointing directly at me, causing every single bloke on the pitch to rear their heads. "We've got a NEW ONE."

Oscar's head whips around and his eyes land on me also.

I go stiff.

Fucking hell.

This isn't how I imagined any of this going. I thought it would be a normal football trial.

Cam jogs toward me with the energy of a golden retriever on cocaine, one arm lifted in a welcoming wave. "HI!" he calls, skidding to a stop in front of me. He looks me up and down like he's assessing livestock. "Strong build. Nice shoulders. Welcome, mate."

"Cam, Jesus Christ." Oscar comes up beside him, giving me a look equal parts apology and resignation. "Sorry about him. He's totally fucking insane, but I promise he’s harmless."

"S'alright." I grunt, shifting my weight and trying not to look like I'm two seconds from running as I scream.

Cam beams. "He said it's alright! See, Oscar? I'm charming."

"You're one sandwich short of a picnic," Oscar mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Then his hand drops and his attention comes back to me. "You good? Here for try-outs?"

"Yeah.”

"What's your name?" Cam asks, stepping closer and tilting his head like he's inspecting me for defects.

"Uh. Josh?"

Cam barks out a laugh. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

I swallow. "Telling you? I think?”

"You sound about as steady as a hungover fresher on a moving bus."

Oscar winces. "Cam—"

"I like it," Cam continues. "Shows fear. I can work with fear."

My hackles raise. “Fuck off, mate. I'm not afraid."

"You're sweating through your shirt, Josh."

I am sweating, but that's more because I power-walked across campus than anything else. It's not them I'm scared of. It's the idea of letting myself down. Of proving every awful thought in my head right.

Besides, I always pictured James being here with me. That was the plan. The two of us doing Uni football together, tearing up the pitch like we always did. I don't know if it was because we were twins or because we spent our entire lives side by side, but I could always predict his next move. Every pass, every sprint, every shift in direction. We were impossible to challenge when we were together.

Now it's just me.

I clear my throat, pushing the thoughts down before they drag me somewhere I can't come back from, but as usual the grey wolf of depression that circles my brain starts to pace.

Oscar gives me one last nod before turning back towards the growing group of lads gathering in the middle of the pitch. He claps his hands twice, already slipping into captain mode as he starts pointing people towards cones and barking instructions, but only gets a few steps before he slows again. I catch him glancing back over his shoulder at me, a frown slowly pulling at his face as though something isn't sitting right.

Cam notices none of it.

"What are you doing?" he shouts, already bounding away from the gate like a dog hopped up on speed. "Get over here."

I inhale a few steadying breaths before forcing myself to follow him.

I'm here.