Page 1 of Couple Goals

Prologue

Ten years ago

‘Goal!’

The crowd roar wildly. The home team fans are cheering, proudly clad in their team’s distinctive orange colours, while the away team groans into their hands, lowering their blue scarves.

None are more engrossed than two girls, stood side-by-side on their tip-toes so they can see all the action. Their names are Adriana Summers and Maeve Murphy, and they are thirteen years old although Adriana would insist that she’sactuallythirteen and five months and two days, whereas Maeve isbasicallyfourteen. They are wearing their homemade orange kits and matching tiger face paint to support their team: the Manchester Tigresses. But apart from their identical outfits, the girls couldn’t seem more different from each other.

Adriana is the shorter of the two, with a mane of bright red curly hair that she has attempted to tie some of it up into plaited cat ears on the top of her head. The effect – if rather messy – is adorable. She is football mad, whooping and dancing in delight at the goal, shouting praise to her beloved team on the pitch below,and highfiving the crowd around them. Victory is now secured with an unassailable 3-1 lead and only a few minutes of the game left.

Maeve, on the other hand, couldn’t have neater hair with her slicked back blonde ponytail, presumably tied by her mother, who has her arms folded behind them. Maeve notes details of the goal carefully in her little bulging notebook. She has recorded the results from every game she’s been to, as well as keeping the ticket stubs, and a few precious autographs of players she admires.

‘Whata goal!’ Adriana squeals to Maeve. ‘Dimdore is so cool! And that pass to Miles was crazy! It’s like they are psychic or something. They must bebestfriends!’

Maeve nods with a grin.

Having met a few months ago at Manchester’s competitive Youth Football Academy, Adriana and Maeve have, to everyone’s surprise, become best friends themselves.

Despite their physical differences and contrasting personalities, they seem to be tuned to the same telepathic frequency somehow. They justgeteach other. Trust each other. Love each other. And that carries over onto the pitch. They have this almost magical, uncanny ability to know what each other is thinking. Adriana would lob the ball seemingly to nobody, only to be met by Maeve’s waiting boot because she’d anticipated Adriana’s pass and made the run to be on the end of it.

‘The Swans shouldn’t have let that through,’ Maeve shakes her head. ‘Their defense is sloppy today. Pitts should have tackled to clear the danger instead of letting Fry put that ball into the box.’

‘Hey,’ Adriana laughs, giving her a playful nudge, ‘whose side are you on?’

Maeve’s normally stoic demeanor loosens a little at her friend’s teasing, and she giggles along with her.

Maeve has previously struggled to make friends, so this sisterhood feels overwhelmingly precious to her. After all, Adriana’s undoubtedly the most popular girl in the Academy, with all the girls, who love her sunny good-humour and endless team-spirit, and with the boys, who keep getting their first crushes on her sparkling sky-blue eyes and freckled button nose. She flirts breezily right back to any of the cute ones, especially when it leads to them being distracted before then beating them resoundingly on the field.

In fact, there is a boy from the Under 14s in the stands behind them, who now tugs on Adriana’s hair to try to get her attention.

‘Nice ears,’ he scoffs, turning to his friends, who seem amazed at his confidence.

‘I know,’ Adriana shrugs, unrattled. ‘Are you literally pulling my pigtails, Jeffers? Can you not think of a better way to flirt than boys in primary school?’

He blushes.

‘Try again when you have come up with better moves,’ she winks. ‘Maybe then I’ll flirt back.’

She leaves him scarlet, and turns back to Maeve as if nothing happened, who is just in awe at her friend’s unshakeable confidence.

None of the boys ever bother Maeve in this way. Maeve would say it is because she isn’t as pretty or charming as her friend,but Adriana would say it’s because they’re a) all too intimidated by her, and b) they maybe somehow sense she’s not interested in them, even if Adriana is the only person Maeve has explicitly come out to so far. Even that wasn’t planned. It was only because when discussing which footballers they had crushes on one night, Adriana had noticed Maeve was particularly quiet, and then Adriana had guessed, ‘Megan Rapinoe?’ Maeve had blushed from her ears to her toes, and nodded. It was one of the couple of risks that Maeve has only been able to take because Adriana makes her feel so accepted and loved.

It isn’t that Maeve isashamedof being gay, if anybody had pressed her about it. Other people are out at school and it isn’t a big deal – in fact, Maeve admires their openness – but she can’t bear the thought of having that kind of conversation with her mum. Her mum has told her she isn’t allowed to date while she’s at school, claiming it would distract her from her exams and getting a sports scholarship to a top university. And the thought of talking at all about s-e-x with her mum, makes Maeve want to peel her own skin off. So she keeps it shoved deep down inside her, along with every other feeling that her mum would think was a distraction, like her anger, her sadness, and her joy.

‘The Tigresses are thebest,’ sighs Adriana happily. ‘Moo, wehaveto play for them, when we’re older. Urgh, but maybe it’d be too much work. Maybe I’m not the right fit for the team. I’m not as good as you.’

‘You absolutely are,’ Maeve jumps in to reassure her. ‘And I’m not just saying that because you’re my best friend. You just need to keep training, and not get distracted. Work isn’t always a bad thing, Sunny.’

That’s the thing about their friendship. No one ever takes Adriana seriously, they only ever see her as a fun, good-time girl. But Maeve encourages Adriana to go after what she wants, and to keep trying. Maeve helps Adriana push herself, and Adriana helps Maeve loosen up which means that together, they’re both flourishing.

‘Lets do it,’ Adriana vows. ‘Promise.’

She holds out a little finger. Maeve studies it with utmost seriousness. ‘You mean, pinky promise to get chosen at the end of the Academy to play for the Manchester Tigresses?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘We’ll have to work really hard. We’ll have to be the best.’

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