Page 11 of Couple Goals

Adriana had been trying to make them smoked aubergine directly from the fire of the gas hobs, and had somehow set the aubergine on fire. One of Adriana’s favourite memories in the whole world was of Maeve, throwing the flaming aubergine across the room perfectly into the cold metal sink.

‘Okay, but that baba ganoush wasdeliciousright?’

‘Best goddamn thing I’ve ever eaten,’ Maeve admits.

They smile at each other and Adriana’s heart lightens.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Maeve, sighing. ‘I love you, you know I do, but I really need to just be alone tonight. And if I’m honest? I think that would do you good too.’

Adriana’s stomach twists again. Maeve suggesting she needs to change her habits hits way harder and deeper than criticism from some new coach could.

‘If you want to hang out, meet me here at 7 a.m. tomorrow,’ Maeve offers. ‘I’m going to do extra drills before training. Clearly, I need it.’

They both know Adriana won’t be there. Adriana and mornings to not mix. Maeve puts a hand on Adriana’s shoulder and squeezes it firmly.

‘Have a restful evening, okay, Sunny?’

‘You too, Moo,’ says Adriana, swallowing hard.

Chapter 4Maeve

At dawn the next morning, Maeve arrives at the training ground, her resolve strong and her flawless ponytail swinging.

She’s feeling a little better than she was after yesterday’s disastrous first session with the new coach, or at least, she’s feeling focused on exactly what she needs to do. She’s entered a state of single-mindedness that she’s used to and where she thrives. It’s been a part of her life for so long, this anticipation of training for the next big challenge. There have rarely been times she’s not been preparing as if the next war is just around the corner, her body almost feels more normal when it’s tense and shot through with cortisol.

She is proud of herself for how she coped last night, relying on the routines she’s honed over the years. She efficiently made one of her high-protein tofu and peanut rice bowls, cooking in her airfryer while she did a quick Peloton exercise. She watched some of Serena Hoffmann’s latest television appearances as a pundit, analysing what she most regularly comments on and criticises in players. She could have guessed: their new coach is strict and ruthless, particularly harsh on players who don’t correct their own weaknesses.She’s a coach after Maeve’s own heart, really. Maeve had gotten into her pyjamas (ones Adriana bought her years ago which are not only too small but covered in cartoon cows), brushed her teeth, did a few yoga stretches, then sprayed her lavender pillow spray, put on her eye mask, checked her three alarms were set, and then put on her whale sounds (she can’t relax to anything else). Thankfully, altogether, it was enough to quieten her racing mind for her exhausted body to sleep and wake early.

Maeve is glad she didn’t give in to Adriana’s suggestions to go to the pub last night. I mean, honestly, what planet is her friend on sometimes? Maeve smiles to herself, and sends her a text while she waits for her of a picture of her personalised water bottle, toasting the early morning sunrise.

Here we go again! x

The message comes back with an ‘undelivered’ symbol, which she half-expected. She only hopes it’s from sleeping well in do not disturb mode, and not that Adriana went out again last night. She’s starting to worry about how much she’s been going out, but doesn’t want to seem like she’s nagging her.

As Maeve tucks her phone away and heads through the corridors, it secretly makes her feel proud, to be clocking in while her teammates are still literally asleep. She swipes her pass to open the door onto the pitch thinking about how she loves having the pitch to herself. When it’s quiet, and there’s no distractions, and–

She hears a slam of a football hitting the back of a net, followed by a wild whoop.

Maeve freezes. Someone is already training.

Now? Before the sun has even risen? Beforeher?

Maeve hangs back so that she can watch the mystery player, unseen. She’s not someone Maeve recognises. Whoisshe?

The new player is small and lithe, with light brown skin and dark hair cropped in a short back and sides, cut shorter than any of the other women in the team, with messy waves on top that dances chaotically as the woman runs. And God, she runs fast.

She’s throwing herself around with a commitment and physical exertion which impresses Maeve, especially as she’s only training. She keeps going in for huge, bold kicks, hitting goal after goal from further and further away from the net, sprinting to the next practice ball. Maeve’s trained eye sees the pattern in how she’s practicing, the way she aims for the hardest-to-defend edges of the goal in its top corners. Occasionally she misses, because she was taking bolder risks, striking from more acute angles. And then, she throws the ball up, jumps and goes for a header from the middle of the net, and it lands right in the centre of the goal.

The stranger pushes her hair back from her glistening face, wipes her neck, breathing heavier. As Maeve watches, her heart is racing as if she was doing the exercises herself. The stranger fans her t-shirt – a white and red kit for a team Maeve doesn’t recognise – and Maeve squints to read the name printed on its back above the number 9: CHOKSI.

Choksi. Something clicks into place in Maeve’s mind. She’s heard of her because Choksi had scored a number of impressive goals for Hoffman’s old team, the Loughborough Vixens, and there was quite a bit of publicity around her. She remembers hearing about how Choksi was Serena Hoffman’s protegee,a star player who she scouted herself and has been training with for years.

Now seeing Choksi’s bold and confident energy, her impeccable form, Maeve can see why Coach has brought her into the club with her. Still, Coach Hoffman has moved unusually fast to already bring a new player into the Tigresses, and Maeve worries it’s a sign of more shaking up to come.

But what should Maeve say to her now? She needs to make a good first impression on her new teammate, and she wishes Adriana were here to help ease it with her charm. Should Maeve admit she’s heard of her?

For some reason, Maeve’s mind goes to trying to recall good chat-up lines. What was that one Adriana told her to use that one time she was trying to persuade her to hit on someone at the pub? ‘You seem familiar’, ‘Don’t I know you?’ Something like that?

No!Maeve shakes her own head. What is wrong with her? Not chat-up lines! She just needs a nice normal things to say to a new teammate who she is seeing early on the pitch one morning. She should just introduce herself.

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