Stay

42

A/N - a long chapter... and not quite pg-13... you've been warned. (this will be the only time you will be)

EVIE

Partying was not my forte. I got ahead of myself whenever alcohol was thrown into the mix, and I overestimated how much my small body could handle. I always thought that I was able to hold my liquor well… hangovers were for chumps… but that was never the case near the end of the night when I was a blubbering mess, spewing into a small brown bag that Niall happened to keep in his car.

“Just in case,” he explained as he passed the wrinkled bag towards me, ushering me to puke into there.

“If you’re gonna spew, spew into this,” I quoted.

“Wayne’s World… I knew I liked you for a reason,” he smirked. But that smirk was soon replaced with a grimace, which was then replaced with a soft pout as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the small bag. God I hated drinking…

The days following the party were filled with textbook readings, writing essays and nursing the small cold I had caught post-party. I felt like a complete and utter mess. My nose was constantly leaking and tissues stuck to my face whenever I’d accidentally fall asleep. A hot mess was far from my physical appearance. I was a plain old mess.

Niall had tried his best to help nurse me back to health. After I had been hyped up on cold meds and suggested he wear a nurse outfit, Niall was unable to take me seriously. Apparently I was an adorably cheeky sick person and my attempts at being insufferable had been rendered useless. He kept coming back with chicken noodle soup and Brad Pitt movies. I’d be lying if I didn’t plan on being sick more often if it meant having Niall wait on me hand and foot.

After a long month of getting back to a normal health, finishing up midterms and writing papers, March had come and gone. April was hands down one of my favourite months. The weather grew warmer and soccer took its rightful spot of being my main priority. I missed playing the sport… running tirelessly up and down the field…  Even if that meant hanging around certain teammates that still gave me a permanent stink eye, I missed it.

It was the first practice of the month and after a long break. It wasn’t that we had chosen to take the break. But with papers getting to be too much, the paper needing my undivided attention, as well as it being midterm season, March was declared a soccer-free month. I had grown antsy. Running around the block for an hour a day did not fulfill my much needed dose of exercise. I felt like a dog that had been locked up inside a home for too long. I needed to get out there… run around and distress.

Finding my cleats was a feat in itself. I had forgotten where I stored it for the break. At first, I thought I left it at my parents, but when they couldn’t find it either, my second choice was one of the girls places. It hadn’t been their either, so I checked my car… negative. Somehow, they had found themselves under Niall’s bed. How that happened is still a mystery to us all. Novels would be written on the Great Cleat Hunt of 2015.

“Do you want me to pick you up after your practice?” Maggie asked me as she pulled up to the field. The university had decided that it would be best to turn the old soccer field on campus into the new Science Faculty building. Apparently sports did not hold the same position of importance than scientific research. The buggers… if you’re going to offer sports scholarships, at least give us the resources in which we can continue to bring those big shiny trophies home.

Regardless – we had been forced into practicing at a local high school.

“It’s fine. I think Niall’s coming to get me after.” I reached for my sports bag from her back seat and pulling it into to my lap.