01. The Boy and The Book

The grass was slippery with morning dew. I juggled the ball on my knees, catching it with ease and bouncing it off my chest for added flourish. My breath condensed in a cloud of white in front of my lips and I stilled, catching the ball beneath my cleated boot, and stretching my arms up, lifting my chin and cracking my neck.

The sky had turned golden with the sunrise, orange kissing the edges of clouds, washing over my skin, and turning the ball all hues of dawn. Soon, the sky would pale into a cold blue and the real training would begin.

My arms fell to my sides and I rolled the ball under my foot, my joints groaning at the movement.

My muscles ached, sore from a week of training, still not used to my schedule after almost a month of college.

It was intense.

Not only did I have a full schedule of classes to attend, but the coach had set us training four days a week, in the mornings and afternoons, not to mention the strength training and conditioning we were completing before the season began in a couple of weeks.

The exhaustion had quickly settled into my bones. I sighed, pulling my ear to my shoulder, and stretching my neck out again. Just a few more weeks. I could do this.

I tugged at my collar, feeling my shirt sticking to the sweat of my back. I'd tugged the front curls into a hair tie to keep them off my forehead, and I wiped the back of my wrist against it, feeling the sweat slip over my skin.

I turned, kicking the ball up with the tip of my cleats to catch it in my hands. I still had time. I would practise striking for a few minutes before the team arrived and we started training for the morning.

The grass was soft and wet beneath my boots as I traced my path towards the nearest goal post. There, tucked away in a corner just to the left of the goal, sat a boy.

He always sat there, on the floor with his legs folded in front of him. In fact, he'd been there every morning since I started training individually, sitting with his back pressed up against the brickwork. Sometimes, he'd have a cigarette tucked between his lips. All the time, he had a book split open in his lap. Always a different one.

He had dark skin, and his hair was thick and black. His jaw cut sharply towards his chin – strong and square. He seemed like he should be out on the field playing with us.

I wondered dimly why he was there – why he was always there.

It didn't seem like he was there to watch us play, not like the others who came and went, pausing on the sidelines to watch the practise. He just read. Constantly, on the edges of the field, tucked into the corners, blending into the shadows. He sat so still that it was easy to glance right passed him.

Abruptly, the boy blinked, as if realising he was being watched, and slowly, his eyes dragged up to meet mine. I blinked back.

Brown, I thought stupidly.

Brown eyes. Kind of like Aspen's, if not a bit darker.

He stared at me and I stared back. Staring at each other. Then his lips pulled and slowly – it seemed like everything he did was slow – he smiled at me. An arrogant smile. The type that tilted at the corner.

I felt my left eye twitch and spun around – away from the boy, away from the goal post. My fingers were gripping the ball tightly now, heat coursing through my body.

What was his problem? Acting all arrogant just because I'd been looking at him. Obviously, I'd look at him. He was right beyond the goal post!

And, I mean, who even did that? Sitting on the edge of the soccer field, reading a book before sunrise, like it was normal?

Please.

He was the one being weird here. It was normal for me to stare.

A whistle sounded and I jumped, looking up from the soccer ball in my hands to find the team jogging out onto the field.

Great. Now I'd wasted the last few minutes of my solo training that I had left.

The coach, the man who'd blown the whistle, walked up behind them. He was a bald, sweaty man who loved to wear Adidas tracksuits in a wide array of colours, but he knew what he was doing. His head was already shining under the sun, turning the same red of his tracksuit.

He shot me one look and I forced my legs to move, already heavy from my solo hour-long workout, to join the rest of the team in the centre.

And I forgot all about the arrogant boy sitting in the corner, and the way his eyes had seemed to glow under the orange of the rising run.

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"That was a good practice, hey?"

I looked up from the edge of the field to see the rest of the team gathered by the bench, towels in hand, wiping sweat from their necks and brows.

"It was alright... except for when Matt ate shit during the corner kick." One of the others hooted and his friends clapped him on the back, howling in laughter.

I frowned, continuing to pluck my bottle and jacket from the grass to shove them into my duffel bag. I had just over an hour until my accounting class, and I wanted to wash the sweat and dirt off me before then.

"Or when Alex completely fucked up that free kick!"

"I'm still sore from yesterday!" Alex whined, laughter drowning out his voice.

"Hey," a voice started, and I blinked up from my duffel bag to find Alex, another freshman like me, staring down at me.

I smiled at him, shoving a nervous hand through my hair, and righting myself. "Hey. Alex."

God, that was a lame response, Seb.

"What about when you fucked up that corner kick and cost us our advantage?" His smile turned nefarious and he glanced back at the rest of the team behind him, snickering behind dirty fingers. "I mean, how did you fuck that up so badly? Which way did you want it to go?"

I grimaced. Well, it went the way I wanted it to. Except, half the team hated me and refused to follow my direction. If they'd just listened, we would've easily scored another goal. A part of me suspected they'd done it on purpose just to make me look bad.

Though, to be realistic, I was managing that just fine on my own.

I forced a laugh, suddenly feeling even worse than before. "Right. Well. I'm still sore from yesterday," I managed, stealing his excuse, and sending him a wink.

He glowered, his smile dropping as he narrowed his eyes at me in a glare. He turned then, promptly cutting me out of the conversation and beginning to chat with the rest of the team again.

I sighed, falling back to kneel on the grass and fix my shoes, trying to pretend that I wasn't clearly eavesdropping on every word they said. They talked about Reed's best goals, joked about the coach's growing bald spot, and then, a higher-pitched voice.

"Hey guys!"

I looked up to find a short Asian girl with long black hair rocking on her heels before us, a textbook clutched against her chest. She looked familiar, and I realised after a moment that she had attended every single one of our games, practice matches and training days.

It was an impressive feat, especially considering that she was standing here at seven in the morning, when most classes didn't start until nine.

Immediately, the mood of the team soured. They all turned away, grumbling and busying themselves with reorganising their duffel bags.

She didn't let that stop her.

"Morning Reed," she said, turning to the captain of the team. "You played really good today!"

He nodded, not looking up from his shoe that he was tying. She hummed, chewing her bottom lip for a moment, and gazing around the team. Every boy avoided her eyes until they landed on me.

She kept her stare steady, as if challenging me to look away. When I didn't, she smiled and my face warmed. I turned back to my shoes quickly.

If the rest of the team was ignoring her, there must have been a good reason for it. I wasn't about to get myself into more trouble with the team for some random girl whose name I didn't even know.

"Reed, you wanna grab a bite before class?"

God, she really didn't know when to give up.

Reed was a solidly built senior with straight black hair that stuck flat to his scalp. He looked up, finally meeting her eyes. She smiled brightly at him and he considered for a moment before slinging his towel over his shoulder and nodding. "Yeah, 'lright. Mandy's?"

Mandy's – the best food spot on campus. At least, the best priced food, which, let's be honest, was the only thing that mattered as a broke college student.

A few of the boys grumbled their agreements and I stood quickly, zipping my duffel bag up and throwing it over my shoulder before they could turn away. I stepped forward.

"Where are you guys heading now?" I asked, trying to seem as casual as possible, and yet my fingers wrung the strap of my duffel as I spoke.

Reed blinked, exchanging a look with Amar to his right and Matt to his left. Then, he met my stare again and gave me a toothy smile that seemed more menacing than friendly.

"Oh, I was just going to grab a shower then head off to class," he said slowly.

There was silence. Behind him, I could see Alex stifling a laugh. He puffed his cheeks out, sharing a look with Amir next to him. Amir met my eyes before quickly glancing away, avoiding my stare.

I fought to keep my expression neutral.

If there was one challenge that I hadn't expected from going to college, it was making friends.

Back in high school, it had been easy. I'd throw a smile, juggle a soccer ball, toss a wink, and the entire school would be swooning at my feet, not that I'd had time for a girlfriend, or even many friends in between soccer.

But I had Isaac. I had Chloe and Aspen and even Arthur.

Now, I'd kill for just one friend.

I'd quickly come to realise there was an established hierarchy in Pyrus University's soccer team, and freshmen were dead at the bottom, crushed beneath the cleats of sophomores, juniors, seniors, and the all-mighty team Captain – Reed Huang.

And as if I couldn't be any lower on the Pyrus pyramid, I was decidedly the worst player on the team, somehow demoting me to lower than low.

Even the other freshmen avoided me at this point.

I shifted my weight awkwardly, searching for the words, for the confidence I'd had in high school.

"I thought you said –"

"Sorry, Simon, I've got to get to class." Reed patted my shoulder and shot me his award-winning smile that made me want to drive my fist into his jaw. "Hey, good job with training today. Maybe next season, you can play defence a few games."

He said it like it was a compliment before nodding and leaving, the rest of the gaggle trailing behind him, whacking each other's backs and slapping necks. I glowered at them, heat spreading across my chest.

How dare he? I mean – he didn't even get my name right! And defence? I was a striker!

And I was for sure playing this season. I would. I'd make sure of it.

The rest of the team had turned into specks in the distance. My soccer ball felt heavy in my hands and doubt had crept into my chest, settling heavy where my heart should've lied instead.

The girl hesitated, glancing at me for a moment. Her eyes felt heavy on the side of my face, and I warmed, refusing to meet her eyes. I'd already been humiliated. I didn't need her to rub it in further.

A moment passed before she was turning, and her sneakers were squeaking in the grass to join the rest of the team. The team I was barely a part of.

I turned, glancing back at the goal posts. My shoulders fell and I let out a loud sigh.

I spun the ball between my hands, then threw it hard at the goal post. It bounced off with a loud clang, flying past me and thudding into the grass over my shoulder. I groaned, falling to sit on the soil, resting my head in my hands.

I'd thought getting into college would be the hard part – getting a soccer scholarship. Hell, I'd thought even my classes would be harder than soccer.

Soccer had always been my escape. It was what I was good at.

I sighed again, lifting my head to rest my chin in my palm. My whole body was sore. I was tired. But my next class was in two hours, and I had time for a little extra practice.

I stood from the grass, jogging to grab my ball and practice free kicks.

Beyond the goal posts, the boy had closed his book.

He was watching me.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi guys! Welcome to Sebastian's story! This is a little different from my usual stories - not only is it written in Seb's POV, but it's set in college and going to be a bit more mature than my usual books. I hope you all like it! Would love to hear your predictions and thoughts!

I'll be updating 2-3 times a week so hopefully the whole story will be complete soon!

Next time: Seb makes a friend