Sixteen.

                                    

                                          
December 4, 2019
                          
Actually, fuck the Liverpool trainers. Because of them, I got no sleep, and I can't walk. 
                          
What the fuck are they feeding them?
                          
I think about last night, which really didn't end until about five hours ago. I think at some point, Trent said, "I love you," but I shrugged it off.
                          
I suppose most men say that when they're already inside you.
                          
I try to shake off the thought, not taking his words in the heat of the moment too seriously, then it dawns on me, Trent has a match today at Anfield, and here he is sleeping peacefully next to me. He looks like an angel when he sleeps, but an angel would never do what we did last night. 
                          
"Trent," I sing-song in his ear while rubbing his chest.
                          
He rolls over to face me and pulls me close, "Mmm, another round then?" he smiles.
                          
"As much as I would love that, you have a match in four hours that I think you should attend," I say sarcastically.
                          
Trent darts out of the bed and runs to get in the shower. 
                          
"Get showered and I'll drive you home to grab your stuff, then I can take you to the bus," I shout after him. 
                          
I'm saying all this but I haven't even tested my legs out post-virginity.
                          
"Thanks babe!" he shouts back.
                          
Well, let me get dressed for a cold afternoon at Anfield. 
                          
________________________________________________________
                          
"My mom was a little upset you didn't come inside, but I told her you'll be at the match so please make sure you sit with them. I think she's getting the feeling that you're ignoring her," Trent says as he gets back in my car after grabbing his gear from his Liverpool home.
                          
"But--"
                          
"Which you are!" he laughs and I can't even protest.
                          
I don't do well with parents, well, except Laca's.
                          
I let out a huff, "Okay, I'll sit next to her during so she can stop hounding you."
                          
"Great," Trent beams at me.
                          
After a bit, we pull up to the bus parked at the practice field lot. 
                          
"Have fun with my family, don't be too worried, you'll have Tyler and Marcel to run interference between you and my parents," he chuckles at the worried look on my face. 
                          
"Okay," I peck him on the lips before he gets out.
                          
I back out of the parking spot and turn to exit the lot, heading towards Anfield with my music blasting to block out my thoughts
                          
Knowing my luck with parents, his mom probably knows I'm running from her.
                          
________________________________________________________
                          
I'm sitting in my seat near the field while both goalies are warming up. 
                          
"Sydney!" I turn to see Marcel calling my name, with his brother and parents following his lead to my seat.
                          
I stand to greet them, even though we've met briefly before, this will be far more intense. I hug all four of the family members as we exchange "hello's"and "good to see you's", Trent's mother being the last. 
                          
She pulls me into a friendly hug and says, "I'm so glad we get to spend a decent amount of time talking to each other, you practically ran off the last time!" she laughs.