WE'D LOST THE MATCH and it was my fault. I sighed as I ran a hand down my face. Maybe I should just quit and focus on my school work instead. Maybe that was the better path. I could blame our loss on a number of things, like the rain that poured heavily as we played, the referee's worryingly lack of knowledge about the rules of football, the slippery and muddy pitch thanks to the rain or even the fact that my shoelaces were untied for half the game. Although those factors did contribute to my team's loss, the major one was me. I was the reason we'd lost and I wasn't going to delude myself into thinking otherwise.
"Jensen," a voice said.
I looked up to find O'Connor standing in the doorway of the girls changing room. He'd already changed out of his football kit and was back in his school uniform. I noticed he hadn't bothered to knot his red and black school tie, leaving it to hang loosely around his neck.
"What?" I said.
"Well," he began with a soft sigh, "Finley said you might be sulking because of the match, so I came to see if you were okay...so..." he cleared his throat, "are you okay?"
I pressed my mouth into a fine line for a moment before I replied. "I'm okay."
"Sure you are," he frowned, "look, Kopov's throwing a party over at his house and I think you should come."
"We lost," my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "why is he throwing a bloody party?