6
Ryan
Ian insisted on going out for breakfast before we left, in that café that he says is really good, just down the road from his house. I hate breakfast, it’s the most pointless meal of the day. A black, unsweetened coffee is the only thing you need to wake up your brain and get you on your feet.
Today is my first away game with the team, and even though I’m trying to hide my nerves, I have to admit it isn’t easy to slot yourself into such a tight-knit group – especially for a guy like me. Even though I’ve known some of the guys for years, basically since I started playing.
On top of that, Ian’s on the team too, and playing alongside my brother puts me under even more pressure. He’s one of the best on the team, a reference point for the other players. This doesn’t surprise me – Ian evokes trust and security, and definitely has a much more likeable temperament than me, especially since he’s been with Riley. He’s practically the only person I get along with, the only one who can put up with my shitty personality and my unnerving quietness.
I’m someone who doesn’t talk much, and who listens even less. Not that I’m a cold person: I just don’t like it when people piss me off while I’m trying to do my own thing.
We all live in Santry, the same neighbourhood we grew up in – including, unfortunately, that bastard. It’s basically like going back to our roots, as if we never really grew up. I live in the Parklands residential area, with everything you could need right on your doorstep: supermarkets, corner shops, a gym, a pool, take-aways. Everything needed for someone who doesn’t have time to go into town, like me.
We go up to the counter, where Ian chats happily to the girl serving us – I already start to feel out of place, regretting following him here. I don’t like wasting time, and I especially hate going to these kinds of places. They’re always full of people who can’t wait to have a nice, long chat. I just want to drink my coffee in peace, get on this damn flight, play this match and then get myself home to relax in front of an action film or something, before collapsing into bed and falling into a deep sleep.
When the girl turns to me to ask what I’d like, I only order a coffee. She almost passes out at the idea that I don’t want to eat anything. She asks me again what I’d like and I respond slowly, pronouncing my syllables like you do with someone who has difficulty understanding.
When she realises I’m not joking, she starts babbling, listing off the whole menu to me.
Perfect.
All I needed this morning was someone to piss me off.
I slowly raise my head, my eyes threatening her to shut her mouth and just give me my damn coffee. I’d say, from the way she reacts by retreating back behind the counter, her eyes wide with shock, that I was successful.
Ian, as always, tries to play the whole thing down. Recently, he’s always had that cheeky, laid-back smile plastered across his face – so much so that it sometimes makes me hate him.
What does he have to be so happy about?
Oh, yeah. Riley, a baby on the way.
A life.
We sit down at a table and I grab the newspaper, while Ian tries to chat to me. The waitress from before finally brings us our order, but before turning away, she gathers the courage to open her mouth again, apparently just to piss me off some more.
Obviously, she hasn’t learnt her lesson.
I lift my gaze once again, showing her how little I really care about what she said, or the fact that she wants a ‘thank you’ from me. What for? For bringing me my coffee? Isn’t that her job?
I ignore her, just as she deserves, and wait patiently for her to piss off, so I can go back to reading in peace. She turns and leaves, and I could swear I saw steam coming from her ears.
Fantastic.
Next time she’ll think twice before speaking to me.
“What did she ever do to you?” asks Ian, buttering his toast.
“Mmm?” I mutter, barely listening to him.
“That girl…”
“What girl?”
“The one who just brought over our breakfast,” he insists.
I snort, deciding to answer him. “What do you want, Ian?”
“Why did you treat her like that? Why do you have to act like an arsehole with everyone? A bit of kindness costs nothing, you know…”
