I sat on the bench; my face buried in my hands as I tried desperately to ignore the hangover pounding through my brain. My stomach churned. My head spun. I could feel the threads of fabric from my shirt digging into my skin.

I was never going to drink again.

Around me, the crowd was cheering, screaming at each goal, shouting for every yellow card, yelling a plethora of player names. Each noise sent a stab of pain through my head and I only buried my head further into my hands.

Why did I think it would be a good idea to drink before a match?

I'd woken up early in the morning, before the sun was even up, sprawled out on the soccer field. I was still shirtless and woke up shivering and nauseous. Rowan and Flora had fallen asleep a few feet away – Flora curled into a ball and Rowan lying on his side.

I'd crawled towards Rowan first. He seemed so much calmer while asleep. That usual scowl had vanished from his lips and his wrinkled brow had smoothed out. My fingers hovered over him for a minute before I changed my mind, instead waking them both up with a yell.

We'd spent the next ten minutes cleaning our empty bottles off the soccer field. I hadn't noticed my horrible haircut until I found the tufts of hair we'd cut off, scattered in the grass.

Sober, it was much, much worse.

It was mowing a lawn with only a pair of scissors. It was Angelica's doll from Rugrats. It was Rowan, cutting my hair while drunk in the middle of a soccer field. Long strands shot up in some areas while in others, he'd cut the strands to the root. A few curls managed to survive the massacre, but overall – I'd be surprised if I could salvage any of it without shaving it all off.

So, I'd spent my morning in a barber shop, fixing Rowan's handiwork.

I ran a hand over my head now. It was even shorter than last night, now, after the barber had cleaned it up. Not quite shaved, but short enough that the curls were more like waves and no strands tumbled over my forehead or down my neck anymore. Strange.

Last night was still coming to me in flashes. I remembered most of the party – it was what came after that felt blurry. I remembered Flora telling me that Rowan was – what? Disowned? I remembered that he said... something. Something about his history.

My head pounded and pounded and pounded, and I strained, desperately trying to remember, trying to figure him out. Piece him together.

A whistle sounded, signalling the end of the match, and I finally looked up from my hands. That was fast.

Based on the cheering of the team, I figured we'd won, and I stood awkwardly to the side, watching them celebrate.

Reed shouted, tearing his shirt off and running around the field. The other boys jumped on him, cheering, and throwing their fists in the air in celebration. It was a bit dramatic, really. It was only a practice match. It didn't mean anything.

A part of myself knew that I was only being bitter because I'd spent the game as a benchwarmer, as usual, but I glowered anyway, desperate to get back to my dorm and sleep the rest of this hangover off.

I was about to turn to leave when my eyes caught the sight of black hair, pale skin, and I froze. I recognised that face. I knew that smile. Those eyes.

Chloe Pepper.

I'd met Chloe as a freshman in high school. She and her sister, Marcelina, were childhood friends with Isaac, my best friend, so naturally we all fell into a little friendship group. My phone suddenly felt heavy in my pocket.

How long had it been since I last replied to one of her texts? How many calls had I ignored from her? Guilt bit at my chest, but worse – I realised she was sitting in the audience. She'd seen the game.

She knew I didn't play.

All of those avoided texts, ignored calls – it had all been for nothing. She knew.

I was still the entire time she made her way down from the bleachers and crossed the field towards me. My breath had left me. Blood rushed in my ears.

Her voice was exactly as I remembered it.

"Hey," she said, smiling as she stopped in front of me. "I almost didn't recognise you."

She gestured vaguely at my hair and I chuckled, rubbing the back of my head. "Ah. Yeah. I mean, same with you."

She laughed, shrugging and pulling at the ends of her own hair. All through high school, Chloe had maintained her long, black hair that reached past her waist. Except now, she had shorter hair. It came just below her shoulders in long layers, with bangs framing her face.

"It suits you," I said, genuinely.

She smiled and I saw her easy confidence return. "Thanks. Can't say the same about you."

She lifted herself onto her toes to muss up my hair.

"I miss your curls," she said. "Why would you cut it?"

I shrugged. Over her shoulder, my eyes landed on Rowan, standing at the edge of the field with Flora. They were watching us. I returned my attention to Chloe and smiled. Tried to smile.

"I don't know. Felt like it," I said. She lifted a brow at me, beginning to look over her shoulder to follow my stare. I reached forward, frantically grabbing her attention again. "I mean!" I cleared my throat, lowering my voice as she turned back to face me. "I'm going to visit Aspen this weekend for her birthday too, so... Kind of timed well, huh?"

She blinked at me, then frowned. "Aspen? All the way in Pennsylvania?"

I shrugged. "Isaac's flying me out. He's planning a whole thing for her. You're not going?"

"Wasn't invited," she muttered. Her stare turned icy, and I suddenly felt terrible for bringing it up.

It had taken a mission for Isaac to reach me. I was ignoring all my phone calls, all my messages. I had gone completely MIA. Eventually, he'd called me so many times, I had to answer. And when I did, he'd pitched the idea before I could get a word out.

Apparently, Aspen had been extremely stressed with college life and needed a break. He thought her birthday was the best opportunity for it.

I shook my head, quickly changing the topic. "I – uh – how did you find this match?"

She raised a brow at me. "Your team posts every match on their Instagram. It wasn't exactly difficult."

I frowned. "So, you just came? Without asking?"

"I tried to ask," she snapped. "I've been texting you all semester. Why did you ghost me? Is it because... of Aspen?"

Because Aspen had rejected me. Because Chloe had been mean to Aspen and we'd fought about it.

I shook my head. "No. No. That's history, Chlo. And – I mean – That's not the point. I just – I wish – you shouldn't have come."

"I shouldn't have come?" she repeated, scowling. "I came to support you, Seb! I thought maybe something had happened! You weren't replying to any of my texts or calls."

"Well, nothing happened, okay?" I spoke. I pressed a hand to my forehead, my headache pounding ten times worse than before. My face felt hot. My mind raced with all the things she must have been thinking about me after seeing me benched for the entire game. "I'm fine. Just – don't show up out of nowhere like that."

Her expression soured and I thought for a moment that I'd taken it too far and she'd scream at me the way she used to when she turned venomous, but instead, she stepped closer and placed a hand on my arm.

"Seb, I don't care that you didn't play in the match. I'm here for you. I don't actually care about soccer or anything," she said.

My chest panged. I knew she had noticed that I didn't play but hearing her say it – I was humiliated.

I shook my head, shrugging her hand off me. "Thanks, Chlo."

She frowned, stepping forward again and reaching a hand towards me as I glared at the grass, when someone interrupted.

"Seb."

We both turned to find Rowan and Flora standing in front of us.

"Are we still on for lunch?" Flora asked. I furrowed my brow at her. We'd never made plans for lunch.

I looked to Chloe who blinked at me, quickly putting up her wall again. She was never good with new people.

"I'd better get going. I need to catch a bus back to college," Chloe said. She nodded at me, seeming to linger for a moment. Her eyes grazed over Rowan, hovering over Flora, scrutinising, analysing. Before she turned to leave, she quickly muttered, "Text me back, yeah?"

I couldn't reply before she was gone, speeding across the field to leave. Not looking back at me once.

I stared at her retreating back, guilt chewing at me beneath all the humiliation. She'd caught a bus all the way here from New York to visit me, to support me at a game, to check on me after I'd ghosted her for weeks, and I'd just snapped at her.

I ran a hand over my face, suddenly feeling more nauseous than ever.

What was I doing?

"You alright, Seb?" Flora asked. I peeked through my fingers to find her frowning up at me. "You looked uncomfortable."

"You looked angry," Rowan chimed in with a grumble. "What was that? Ex-girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend?" I repeated with a snort. "I'm far from Chloe's type. Trust me."

"Oh." Rowan's brow wrinkled as he scanned my face. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Is she your type?"

My brows shot up and I almost choked on my own spit. My type? I didn't have an answer to that. Did I even have a type? I'd liked Aspen once. Was she my type? Or was she just there? Next to me in each art class. There to tease and to laugh at my jokes.

Rowan watched me, waiting for an answer. My face warmed as I realised that he was asking for my type.

"Anyway!" Flora jumped in, her eyes darting between us. Her face lit up, exhilarated by the match. "The game was great! Although, I think you would've been a better striker than Alex in the second half. He's a much better mid-fielder. You could've easily scored on that penalty kick, especially against their goalie. Everyone knows Kent is a terrible goalie –"

I tuned her out, my shoulders slumping as she rambled on and on about the game – about the game I hadn't played in. The game Chloe had just seen me not play in.

And tomorrow I'd be leaving to see Aspen and Isaac. And they'd have questions. I'd have to answer.

Did Chloe still speak to them? What if she told them? What if she told everyone?

It was suddenly all too much.

"Flora," I interrupted. Her eyes shot to mine and I forced a smile. "I'm sorry, I've just got the worst hangover and I need to go pack for a trip. I'll text you later."

"Oh," she said. "Okay. If you need help packing –"

"I'll be fine," I cut her short. I lifted a hand, willing my voice to sound gentler. Flora had done nothing wrong, I couldn't take this out on her. "I'll manage. I just really need a nap. See you?"

She nodded and I flashed them a final smile before turning and beginning to trudge towards the lockers. Before I could take two steps, a hand clasped around my wrist, tugging me back.

I turned. Rowan gripped my wrist tightly, his eyes digging into mine as I faced him. His fingers were hot on my skin and I felt dizzy all over again.

"Sebastian," he said. "Are you okay?"

Was I okay? Okay with being the worst player on the team. Okay with my old friends knowing I'd turned to nothing in college. Okay knowing I was failing all my classes and could count all my friends on one hand.

I nodded, forcing a smile on my lips. "I'm great."

He didn't seem to believe me. I wrenched my hand out of his grip and smiled again. I tried to be more convincing this time.

"Really," I said. "I'm great. I'll see you later."

He stared at me as I waved, turning, and continuing my walk to the lockers. My fingers ghosted over my wrist where Rowan had grabbed me.

It was missing something.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

So the guest appearance was Chloe hehe surprise? Did you get it right? This is a short story so we only have a few chapters left... any guesses on what will happen before the story ends?

Next time: Sebastian plans a trip home