Chapter 45: Let Her Go

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"Midnight Lou? You might as well spend the night."

"Actually mum, thats what we're doing." Arnie sent a group text earlier today, telling everyone to bring an over night bag since the new plan was to just stay there since it was so late. Also, coach thought it was ignorant to host something midnight and expect our folks to let us back in at five in the morning. I actually agreed with that.

"Well, I don't see a problem with it." She shrugs, tossing some dough on a cutting board. "You warned me about the whole team building stuff. I'll tell your father so he isn't out searchin' for ya when you're not here."

I was kind of hoping she wouldn't let me go so I'd have an excuse. But now it was set in stone and I had to start packing for the night. What was going to be the point of this? A 'soccer bash' just seemed like a lame excuse for another Arnie Weston party. I was crossing my fingers to not be; but I had an awful feeling that the crowd was going to be more than just the soccer team. Arnie always has to do everything big. I don't understand why this is being held at his house anyway. He plays rugby, not footy; he's not even a member of the team, yet he's hosting such an event. If I had to guess why, its probably because he has the space. His brother's flat really is a spectacular spot and is always supplied with the accommodations needed for a party.

I'll have to make an appearance to a couple of people so they know I was there, and stow away in one of the guest rooms upstairs and have a quiet night. My only company will be a couple of beers and my sleeping bag if things go according to plan.

...

It was nine o'clock and once again the plans were changed. We were now going to meet at ten instead of midnight, but still going to be spending the night. This time though, camping outside. They seemed to have forgotten that its fucking freezing outside, with a chance of rain might I add. Why the hell would they want to be outside, drenched and chilled to the bone. Its a recipe for hypothermia.

Wesley and Ryan called me up with the same concerns. We figured if we got there early, we could convince Arnie to move everything back inside. I wasn't going to be riding with them. My mum had loaned me her car tonight since she'd have no business with it tomorrow. I was on the road now to the flat, turning into the neighborhood.

When I finally pull up to the flat, I park along the curb and unload my things from the car. I don't see Wesley's car anywhere so I assume I've made it first. I knock on the door and it doesn't take long until Arnie welcomes me in, pulling me in for a half hug as he takes my bag.

"Glad you made it man." He gleams, sitting the duffel to the side. "Good thing there was only one of ya. Don't think I'll be doin' that for twenty plus guys now."

"Perks of being first, I guess."

"Definitely." He cheers and leads me to the kitchen. He doesn't seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. Arnie has enough of his own to entertain himself.

On the countertop is a couple vine coolers, and packs of beer- german I think. By the looks of the whole assemble, he plans on getting us wasted. He even has a set list of music hanging by his stereo, ready to play.

"So.. Whats the motive behind the whole, celebration?" I inquire.

"Dunno." He shrugs. "I just got a call from Keaton to use the place and said yeah, why not." He chaffs.

"That quick, eh?" I mutter.

"Like magic." He says, snapping his fingers. "You want anything: a beer, chips maybe?" He offers, holding up a bag. "We've got sausages too?"

I shake my head politely. "I'm good. Just a beer, please."

He obliges and heads to the fridge to grab a cold one. I pop it open against the counter and let the bubbly drink slide down my throat, quenching my thirst. Thats good stuff.

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