I recollected the memories we used to share as we sat on the cafe nearby, sipping on our coffee.

He then fished out a small piece of paper from his pocket, before placing it on the table. In fact, it was a photo of us during one of our soccer matches. I was obvioulsy the tomboy, with knee length socks, over sized jersey, high ponytail and bright pink soccer boots.

"That's definitely me," I said, pointing to the girl in the photo.

"And that's me," he pointed to the boy beside me, in a bright red liverpool jersey, putting on the brightest smile you could possibly imagine. He had his arm rested around my shoulder, and my arms were around his waist. We both looked happy, very happy.

"You've got something going on with the hair," I teased, referring to the slicked, middle hair he had in the photo.

"Please," he laughed, and then paused to look at me. I sensed his eyeball placing their fullest focus on me before I looked up, with a raised eye brow.

"What?"

"Nothing, you're really just something to stare at," he said, leaving me in awe.

We walked by the soccer field we used to play at, before it had been turned into a clothing store. Without talking much, I could sense that we both had the same thing in mind, and that is how much we missed the game, the atmosphere before everyone grew up, before everyone changed.

"What are you doing?" Dele asks.

"What? Nothing," I snapped out of my day dream.

"No, I meant, what do you do now?" he giggled.

"Oh, right. I'm training to become a nurse," I smiled, and then raised an eyebrow, indicating that it was his turn. Instead of replying anything, he giggled and rested his face in his palms, with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh right," I rolled my eyes, with a slight sigh.

"I forgot that you're Dele Alli, mid-fielder for Tottenham Hotspur," I added.

"Exactly," he responded.

"You know, I just completely forgot all about that because I know you as Dele, that rascal little kid who gave me a lifetime scar," I said.

He giggled, before pulling my hand closer to the level of his eye.

"Pretty significant one, eh?"

"Significant and specific. It happened at about 2.30 in the afternoon, probably 5 minutes after the whistle for second half was blown, I was in a bright red Arsenal jersey, and you weren't too happy that I scored during the first half. So you decided to push me down, causing me to fracture my arm."

"Naw, sorry. Well this is for you to remember me for as long as you live," he says, patting my shoulder. And right before I could respond, a gush of wind approached, before a group of paparazzi appeared, flashing cameras on mine and Dele's faces.

"Who is this?" A man asked, as he took more photos of me. All the way, I'd have my hands cover my face. Not that I was embarassed or what so ever, but, I wasn't really comfortable with unknown people, taking my photos, and then publishing it worlwide.

"Let's go," Dele acted almost immediately, as he pulled his luggage in one hand, and my wrist in the other. We made our way out of the cafe, hopping onto a taxi which we had caught nearby.

"Just like that," Dele says, as he showed me his phone. It wasn't even a full five minutes and our faces were everywhere.

'DAILY HOT GOSSIP; DELE ALLI AND MYSTERIOUS WOMAN IN NEW YORK'S CAFE'

Oh good god, this was exactly why I had that argument with father, because I rejected to fetch Dele off the airport.

I shrugged it off and noticed him taking out his headphones from his bag. So, I suppose it was a quite ride back home.

I couldn't be blamed much to have fallen asleep on the way home. I was forced to wake up at 5am in the morning and the next thing I knew was that Dele's flight only reaches New York at 11am.

All the blame is on Jerome, who didn't know how to read time and woke me up hours before I really had to get up.

And the next thing I noticed, as soon as I opened my lazy eyes, I had my face buried in Dele's shoulders, with him glazing out of the window. Did he notice? Did he felt me resting on his shoulder?

"Oh, awake already?" he asked and before I could spill out my response from my lips, the driver pulled up at our drive way.

Comparing my life to Dele's, he was already a successful athlete. I haven't got a real job and I'm still living with my parents, alongside with my three brothers. Dele must probably have his own house, and his own car, and maybe his own private jet. I noticed him observing my house from the outside, the creamy white painted house, with a small garden at the front yard.

"Sorry it isn't as luxurious as yours," I said, helping him to bring out his luggage from the trunk.

"I appreciate anything," he said, messing my hair up.

We stood at the front door, and before I could press the doorbell, mother had already jumped out, and wrapped her arms around Dele, followed by father.

"Look at how handsome you are now," mother praised, while placing small kisses on his cheeks.

"And you haven't aged since I last saw you," Dele responded,

"Ah! He's a keeper!" mother raised her voice, as she and father got back into the house.

"Smart way to win her heart, eh?" I asked.

"Soon to win her daughter's," he responded with a wink, which left me speechless as my eyes widened. I stood still at the front porch, while he walked into the house.

Oh, Dele. You haven't changed a bit, have you?