the Devil and the Sea

11| One of the guys

As if coming to his senses, Vincent discreetly removes his hands from my waist and adjusts his glasses. At that very moment, accompanied by adrenaline rushing from the touch, I rush to the ball, and Phil blocks my way to the goal. I go around it using a trick as old as this world, and at high speed I hit the goal with as much force as I am capable of. But the ball, not reaching the goal, flies a couple of centimeters from the bar, and it lands out of bounds right into the dry grass outside the football field.

I clench my fingers in a fist and lightly hit the ground - to miss just because this bespectacled man touched me... what kind of nonsense?

His touch made me feel euphoric and I want to feel it again.

I notice goosebumps on my legs and lean back headlong into the grass. My left knee is aching with nagging pain, and I clench my jaw, ignoring it.

Phil runs up to me with a laugh and helps me up.

"Easier fighter," he holds out his hand, "you play so enthusiastically, as if the Champions League Cup was ahead."

I grab his hand and get to my feet.

"The mood is especially playful right now," I glance at Vincent, even though I know that he is unlikely to understand what I really mean.

Few understood.

"Try not to get hurt." Phil chuckles.

I shrug nonchalantly.

"You can play without me."

"It won't be as fun without you." Phil answer.

I smile wide open.

"Can I play with you?" The voice of some kid makes me distracted. I turn around and see a teenager in a Barça jersey with curly hair.

I exchange glances with Phil, but he doesn't seem to think of answering.

"Cool shirt, but if you enter the game, there will be inequality," I snap sharply.

"Why? He can come in for you, and then we will be on an equal footing." That damn blond-haired Vincent says.

Honestly, they are lagging behind in the scoreboard, but I don't know if Vincent actually does care. Or if he's just letting me win.

How infuriating is this arrogant bespectacled man from England.

I give him a nasty look, and then look at the determined teenager.

"When someone else comes, you will play." I say it as rudely as possible so that he changes his mind.

The teenager does not notice this, only enthusiastically gets on his bike and leaves.

After ten minutes, it gets somewhat noisy. I look around and see a large group of teenagers watching us play.

"And now, can I play?" The same teenager asks again when he catches my eye.

But they don't seem to need permission, there are so many of them and they seem out of control.

"Let's play with them," I hear Phil, and I immediately put him on the list of traitors.

Resigned, I irritably suggest re-teaming, and everyone gathers around Phil and me. I let Phil choose first.

"Marina." Says Phil - well, who would doubt it?

I roll my eyes. Phil is ready to flirt with anyone who can move his penis even a little.

I skim my eyes over the teenagers, of course Vincent is several times physically superior to all of them, but I invite the largest teenager among others to come to me. I catch the puzzled glint in his blue eyes through the lenses of his glasses and try my best not to laugh.