Broken Defence - Revised -- Pt. 01

Naomi then rescued me from my silence and therefore rescued my night, as I was ready to stay there for as long as they'd let me.

"So, you're her best mate huh? Her best bud?" She finished her teasing with a playful chuckle which helped break the ice.

"I do indeed hold that title but I'm looking for a replacement for obvious reasons," I paused to point at Lucy wandering about, full of stress. "That's why I'm interviewing you today. Tell me a bit about yourself?" I fell back on stupid humour, and it seemed to work as we all chuckled.

I found out that both of them were working full-time while they tried to make it professionally. Holly played in Defence and Naomi in Midfield. The conversation flowed naturally. I even risked sitting down at the table they moved towards. I spent a little more time looking at Naomi, partly because I feared if I looked at Holly too much, I'd never stop.

There was a natural warmth between Holly and I, in a way I couldn't fully describe to others afterwards. It was as if we both felt completely comfortable with eachother and got how the other thought and behaved.

"Luce was always shit when she played in defence," Holly was chuckling as the three of us spoke about Lucy's football prowess a while later. "I spent half the time covering for her on the pitch, was fucking breathless by half-time- "

"-well, she normally played on the wing!" Naomi had cut in, laughing with us and reminding us she was there.

"Did you ever play?" Holly asked curiously when we stopped laughing.

I smirked and looked over at both of them, aware Naomi was starting to become the dreaded third wheel. "I did, I was a Goalkeeper," I admitted. "Didn't grow up quick enough to cover the goal and so I gave it up."

Holly rolled her eyes. "I was starting to like you as well, now all I can imagine is you in big goalie gloves telling me to get in position when you can't even cover half the goal!"

"The cheek of you!" I replied, eyes alive and sharing her grin. "I'd do fine now; I just prefer writing about football and not playing it."

We spoke a bit more about my degree and my passion for writing. Holly was genuinely interested and hung on my every word. I wasn't sure why; it was hardly an original career move to write about sport.

Naomi had given up trying to be part of the conversation by this point but trapped between us, she could see no way to exit without disrupting our flow. It occurred to me even then how good a friend Naomi was to Holly that she'd sit there in near silence when I could sense she had a strong extroverted personality and was probably desperate to mingle.

"Just you wait," Naomi said suddenly, "Holly will be out of that retail job and signing a pro contract in no time," when I wisely turned the conversation back to Holly and her ambitions. Naomi had started to sing Holly's praises to me, as though I somehow needed convincing that she was way out of my league.

"I believe you!" I said with genuineness despite the lack of evidence.

A little while later they went to the bathroom together and promised to return. I saw Holly was an inch or two taller than Naomi. It suited her frame really well and it made me yearn for her return. I liked Holly, a lot. It was the strongest attraction I'd ever experienced.

I sat with my thoughts for a bit and was surprised at how quickly they both returned with drinks in hand. Holly handed me another rum and coke with a smile. I smiled back and her smile grew as she slid passed me and sat down, now putting herself in the middle seat allowing Naomi to exit when she wanted. By the time she was back in eyeline, her face was blushing brilliantly, and it didn't take many smarts to work out she liked me too. This is crazy I thought, a nervousness growing inside me.

Most people, at that point, know what to do next. In years that went by, I knew what I should have done. Hell, I still had dark nights in bars where I cursed my decision and the time it lost us.

I should have continued the conversation and waited for Naomi to make an excuse to move away because I was sure she was going to do so imminently. They'd surely discussed it when they left. However, what I should have done and what I did do, were two different things. I let the conversation fall into awkwardness as I waited for Naomi to make her excuses and a panic set in within me as I wondered what I was going to say to Holly and how I would impress her. I was totally smitten with her and that 'love at first sight' feeling had never happened to me before and never happened again. I wasn't exactly 'cool' around women, but this was something else entirely.

I suddenly heard myself making an excuse and left the table, to the surprise of both of them. I went to the bathroom and then I went to the other side of the club so I could hide out and gain some courage. I looked for Lucy and found her making out with a couple, to the surprise of some of her nearby friends. There was no interrupting that impending throupling.

I felt the chance with Holly slipping away the longer I took to go back. In the end (it was probably a few minutes, but it felt like hours of indecision), I left.

The hard truth was that I feared going back and seeing the moment had definitely gone. Years later, once everything had blown up with Holly, Lucy admitted to me that Holly had left soon after, not quite in tears but upset enough that she no longer wanted to be there.

A few weeks later, after toying with it for days, I sent Holly a friend request on Facebook. It took Holly days to respond and in that time, I thought about removing the request multiple times.

I was in my class with my phone on silent on the little table attached to my lecture hall chair when I saw it light up.

Holly Dane: Sorry I took so long to accept your invitation. How are you?

I immediately moved my phone under the table so I could shoot off a quick reply. My heart was beating hard. She'd given me a little in and after beating myself up for weeks, I was going to try everything I could to have another shot.

Tom Bradley: That's not a problem at all, I wasn't expecting you to accept it really.

Holly Dane: I was debating not to. That was a real dick move, Tom. If you didn't like me, you should have just said.

I sighed, having her think that was the opposite of what I wanted.

Tom Bradley: The opposite couldn't be more true. I wish I could explain my actions away easily, but I can't. If I tried to explain it, I'd only look worse and I'm trying very hard not to do that right now.

Holly Dane: I guess you should be glad I'm having a shit day at work and not keen for you to make it worse.

We got talking from there and didn't stop for almost a year.

We moved to texting quite frequently. I became her confidante and her mine, brought together once my Gran, my sole remaining grandparent, got sick. Surprisingly quickly, I felt comfortable to tell her things that I had told nobody and it deepened our bond. I bared my soul and told her how hard it was for me to be growing up without a father, and how writing gave me release to process my feelings.

Holly told me of her own family, of her sisters and the pride she felt as they grew up a few years younger than her, though only a year between themselves in age. How she knew they'd both go to university and live the dream she never attempted for herself. Her Mum, Sylvia, seemed incredibly supportive of Holly and it felt like Holly and her Mum were a pair teaming up against her sisters in the family politics. Her Dad, Brother and Sister-in-Law were very rarely mentioned. I found it quite strange but didn't press it, even when Holly talked of rare Sunday trips with her dad.

We spoke about dates we'd gone on, both successful and unsuccessful - though admittedly it seemed only one of us had much luck.

Holly: I turned up for a date in college just before football training and I had my shorts on. He came all dressed up and looked at me in horror.

Tom: Where were you going, the Opera?

Holly: Ew, Tom, is that where you take your women?

Tom: Only when they turn up in shorts!

Holly: I'll turn up in my ballgown when you invite me for milkshakes like he did then...

Despite her teasing, I never pushed her to meet up, but I ached to. I left the ball in her court, and she knew that's where it was. It was probably crazy to anyone else that we'd let a tiny thing get between us in such a seismic way, but I knew by then that Holly had felt the same for me as I did for her that night. She never said it, but I knew.

I learned one night that she had never had sex before and that she wore her heart on her sleeve about it.

Holly: I could count on one hand how many men I've fancied and on one finger how many men I properly liked.

She abruptly changed the conversation at that point having revealed too much and then she ignored my probing questions thereafter. I looked at that message for weeks afterwards, knowing but disbelieving it was me.

She was a year younger than me and celebrated her 19th birthday a few weeks after I celebrated my 20th early in the year. I 'liked' the pictures of the dinner party she posted on Facebook that night, as I liked most of her pictures, especially those that showed her with a football at her feet.

It was a surprise when my phone rang just after midnight that night, while I lay in bed reading an autobiography of a journalist I admired (sad, I know).

Shock was an understatement when I saw Holly's name on the screen. We'd yet to speak on the phone which I took to be because texting was where we were most comfortable.

A sudden wave of familiar nerves threatened to overcome me. Not this time, for God's sake. I took a deep breath and answered the call.

"Hey!" I answered, still surprised. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you," I heard the smile in her tone. "I wanted to speak to you before I went to sleep."

"What about?" I asked, confused but delighted given she'd spent the evening with her friends and family but still wanted to speak to me.

"Nothing, idiot. I just wanted to hear your voice," she replied in mock-frustration.

We spoke about her birthday and about random things while I fought to keep hold of the growing frustration that had building over the prior few weeks about us not meeting up. I wasn't seeing anyone, and neither was she - specifically because we were so into eachother. Now she had called me on the night of her birthday because she wanted to hear my voice before going to sleep. It was becoming quite difficult to stay understanding about this unspoken (and in my view, unnecessary) barrier.

My frustration reached a peakwhen I asked what she pictured her 20th birthday would look like and she replied, "Well you're there, obviously..."

I pulled the phone away and let out a barely silent scream. When I put my phone back to my ear, Holly was continuing to describe her birthday, ".... I'm not a big fan of clubbing, as you know..."

I could no longer stop myself and cut in when she next paused for breath. "Holly, what's stopping us meeting?"

A silence greeted my question that stretched on so long I thought the line had gone dead.

"It's complicated," Holly replied weakly, at last.

I paused, thrown by her answer. I had expected blame to be put at my door, but it seemed this was Holly's issue. "Why is it? There's nobody else, right?"

"Fuck no. You're the only person in the world I could see myself being with and I thought that was pretty obvious," she declared pointedly.

Far from reassuring me as she intended, it only heightened my frustration. I took a deep breath and said evenly, "Holly, you can't say that and at the same time say it's too complicated to meet me."

I sensed a precipice had been reached. Briefly, I let myself feel a deep sense of regret that I had voiced this now, on the night of her birthday and led us here. A more savage part of me knew this conversation needed to happen and it quickly silenced my guilt.

Holly started to talk and stopped. Twice she did that and on both occasions, I waited patiently. "Ah shit," she sniffed this time. "Okay look, there are things you don't know. About me. Things I think about myself. I can't explain it better than that and I dunno if I want to cause it's bad when I do and..."

I could tell from her hesitation and her tone that it wasn't good.

"Holly?" I questioned softly, immediately concerned.

I heard another sniffle on the other side of the line. "I feel sick," she said quietly.

"Holly, we haven't got to do this right now," I cut-in, worry growing.

She continued as though she hadn't heard, and I suspected, couldn't stop now that she'd started. "I don't know how to let you in now I feel this way about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I... I'm under pressure and I sometimes can't cope with it-"

"From whom," I cut in immediately. "Sorry," I added when she seemed to sigh. "Continue, I'll be quiet."

"Good boy," she teased through quite obvious tears, trying to inject some humour into the conversation and failing miserably given the content.

She continued after yet another pause which confirmed I really shouldn't interrupt again. "Myself. My family. I've closed off all my options for my future except football. No university, nothing. Half my family think I'm stupid to have done it, the other half will blindly support me but will be crushed if I fuck this up. If I get a bad injury, I'm screwed. I've been offered contracts for bigger clubs up North, but I don't want to go as I'm too weak to handle proving them right if it goes wrong. And I feel trapped."

I reflected silently while I heard Holly blowing her nose and steadying her breathing. I knew what parts of her family stood where on the dividing line of Holly's future. Her Dad and Brother never went to her games and now I knew why.

"I'm good, I know I'm good," Holly continued through tears. "But sometimes the pressure gets too much and I.. I need to do things to.... to ease the pressure."

I swallowed. Holly remained silent too, not wanting to continue. "I understand what you mean," I said at last.

Holly's breathing was erratic on the line. I genuinely wondered if she was having a panic attack.

"You're not mad?" Holly asked eventually.

I recoiled at the question, surprised by it. "No, of course not Holly!" I was forceful enough that I heard her let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't want to talk about it any more than that, I just needed you to know," she trailed off and yet again silence engulfed us. It was almost 2am now.

"Is there anything else?" I questioned gently, wanting as much of it in the open as I could.

I could almost feel the tension through the phone and knew there was more. "Tom, I... please can we not speak about it again after tonight? I'll meet up with you, I promise I will. It's just sometimes the pressure of what this could be scares me and when I think about meeting you and not being enough for you if this football dream goes wrong..."

I sighed, dropping my need to find out what else she was doing to herself in order to prioritise reassuring her that that would never be the case.

I suggested holding off on meeting up until she was in a better place. It was almost against my better judgement, but I cared more for her mental health and an hour later, we dialled off in a better place.

It took a lot of effort for me to sleep that night and an even greater effort to not bring it up with Holly again over the following weeks.

One morning in early spring, I woke up to a message from Holly who hadn't responded to my messages the night before.

Holly: I'm sorry I didn't reply last night, Dad and I argued about my future again. It was bad. I'm sorry.

I saw the text and swallowed. I knew what had happened when the argument was over and what the second apology was for, I just instinctively did. She didn't need to tell me outright and to be fair to her, she knew she didn't need to as well.

Tom: Are you okay Hols?

Holly: I'm fine now.

It was as blunt as I expected it to be. She'd unburdened herself and then closed back off again. I sighed.

I put my phone down on the bedside cabinet and got changed, getting myself ready for my morning lecture and trying to decide how I could convince Holly to get help. Another message arrived as I was heading out of the door.

Holly: Don't be disappointed T, I tried not to. That was the first time since I told you.

Tom: I could never be disappointed in you, especially for that. I've been getting ready for Uni and trying to work out how I can convince you to get some help Hols.

Holly: You can't Tom, please, please don't do that to me. You're the only one I feel like I can tell. I know if they find out it'll make all the arguments worse.

I sighed and replied on the way to the station.

Tom: What can I do to help?

Holly: Nothing.

I put my phone away in immature anger and didn't check it again until I was at the lecture hall. I spent the journey reading a book about investigative journalism and wondering how I had got into this.

As I took my seat, I saw another text had arrived sometime before.

Holly: Maybe I could call you when I feel that way and we can just talk? If I'm talking to you, I can't do it.

I thanked whatever God I could that Holly had come up with something and got out my books, trying to bring myself to focus on the lecture.

Tom: That sounds like a great idea, thank you for thinking of that. Message you after my lecture x

I smiled, suddenly feeling a lot better now that Holly had offered a potential option.

We spoke on the phone frequently thereafter and I became attuned to the times when Holly wanted to talk or when she needed to talk. It felt as though she had taken the last wall down with me and I saw the Holly that she was and not the one that she showed other people. Our feelings towards eachother grew further and I spent more time thinking about Holly than I did about studying or much else. My family would ask who I was spending my time speaking to and Holly would face similar questions from her family - I'd often hear one of her sisters teasing her about being on the phone to me.

Towards the end of my 2nd year, I didn't speak to Holly much which was a sudden, sharp change. I was ridiculously busy with coursework as well as exam prep and only really exchanged messages with her after midnight when I procrastinated during my all-nighters. Holly understood completely and would keep me company until she made a major mistake at work from tiredness and got a formal warning. She wasn't angry with me but we both agreed to pause most of our messaging until after my exams. I didn't like it, it felt like I was losing a part of my consciousness at that point.

It became a tough agreement to maintain as my thoughts were on her constantly. I'd sometimes scroll onto her Facebook late at night and look through her pictures.

When we did speak, we'd started to sext too. Nothing too extreme or too often. Holly would ask me questions about sex, and I'd answer. Sometimes it would lead to her needing an orgasm and I would help her get there. One day she asked to see my penis. After multiple attempts at angles and lighting, I sighed and sent the best one I could before I missed the moment all over again. Her reaction and the conversations that followed over the next few weeks gave me some of my strongest orgasms.

Holly Dane: I hope you don't think I'm a freak Tank, but I've been cumming over your dick a lot. Like, a lot. I kinda felt bad doing it and not telling you.

Tom Bradley: Fairly sure my brain just exploded Hollywood.

Holly had taken to calling me Tank after Thomas the Tank Engine and certainly not because of my size. I'd filled out a bit through running during study breaks and occasional gym sessions but nothing to brag about. Hollywood was her nickname because I could think of nothing creative or witty when she started calling me Tank. I also felt she was utterly stunning but anytime I tried to complement her looks, she'd close down and wouldn't buy it. Over time I came to see that she absolutely hated being seen for her looks and I had to find creative ways to compliment her physical form, which I was utterly in love with.