He was there again the next day. Reading another stupid book at the edge of the soccer field.

I mean, seriously. Who even reads books anymore? And who read them before sunset at a soccer field? It was stupid. He was stupid.

Rowan was his name. After he'd insulted me, a complete stranger, to my face yesterday, I'd spent the next ten minutes ranting to Flora.

Flora knew him, just as she knew everyone, except he was different. Apparently, everyone knew who he was. Rowan Baines. The mysterious bad boy who didn't talk to anyone.

I huffed. Of course, he didn't. He was just too good for anyone else, wasn't he? Arrogant prick.

Somehow, it pissed me off that everyone knew who he was. It definitely didn't help that he was attractive. Objectively. High cheekbones, smooth skin, dark eyes.

Except, I was hotter. And I was a soccer player. People should know who I am.

Whatever.

I wasn't going to let stupid, arrogant Rowan Baines ruin my morning training.

I lined the ball up with the goal posts. The rest of the team would arrive any minute now, and I'd barely gotten any free kicks in.

Ever since Flora had told me about my flaw in technique, I'd been set on working on it. Until I saw stupid, arrogant Rowan Baines sitting there, with his stupid, pretentious book in his hands. He hadn't even looked up when I'd arrived, but I knew that he knew I was here.

He was probably getting off at the thought that I was staring at him again. Except I wasn't, I reminded myself quickly. No. I was here to play soccer.

Because this was a soccer field.

Someone needed to remind him of that.

I snorted at the idea and before I could think about it, I kicked the ball, as hard as it could go. Instead of barrelling towards the goal, it missed by an inch and pounded into the wall beside Rowan head, bouncing off the bricks to roll onto the concrete, next to his leg.

He startled, his back hitting the wall and book falling onto the ground. His eyes went from the ball to me and I smirked.

How did he like it?

"Sorry!" I shouted, though I couldn't suppress my grin. "Can you throw it back?"

He glowered. "You made me lose my page."

I stifled a laugh, stepping closer and shrugging. "Sorry. This is a soccer field, you know. Maybe you should read at the library or something."

The unspoken insult tagged onto the end of it. Nerd.

He ignored me, picking his book up from the ground and dusting it off, flicking through the pages in search of his chapter. Oh, he wasn't going to ignore me so easily. I nodded towards the ball.

"Hey. Pass it back, yeah?"

He lowered his book to meet my eyes, then smiled sourly. "You're the one who put it there. What, so bad at soccer you couldn't find the goal? No wonder your coach never puts you on the field."

My grin fell.

"Excuse me?" I spat, stepping closer.

He was the one smirking now. Slowly, he flipped the page on his book, pretending as if I wasn't there. His eyes scanned the page, then he shrugged, taking his time as he said, "You do a great job at keeping that bench warm, though."

I blinked. Then blinked again. My mind whirred, searching for an insult. A comeback. Except all I could think was that I wanted to pummel my fist into that bastard's head. I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted – I wanted –

"Sebastian!"

I spun. The rest of the team had made it onto the field. They were stretching and warming up as Coach called for me.

"Get over here! You're late!"

I frowned, cutting Rowan a glare. Late? I was here an hour before practice even started.

"Thanks a lot," I grumbled, stomping past him to swipe my soccer ball from the ground and leave.

I didn't have to turn around to know he was smirking when he replied, "Anytime, Sebastian."

Great. Now he knew my name.

I stomped towards the centre of the field, settling at the edge of the team. Reed was already giving a rundown of the drills we'd be working on today.

"Hey. Since when were you friends with Rowan Baines?"

I turned. Alex stood beside me, muttering as he glanced between Rowan and me. Rowan had gone back to reading his book, completely oblivious to the glares I was sending his way.

"Friends?" I snorted, shaking my head. "We're not. The guy's a dickhead."

"Is he? I've never even heard his voice," Alex replied. He turned his attention back to Reed, ending the conversation, but not before saying, "Every time I try and speak to him, he just completely ignores me."

I frowned, looking over my shoulder at Rowan again. Of course, he did. He was arrogant. Full of himself. Probably thought of Alex as too beneath him to be worthy of conversation. I mean, sure he hadn't ignored me, but he'd insulted me. Practically called me a shit soccer player.

My grip tightened around my soccer ball. Was he wrong, though? I was terrible. I couldn't believe how I'd ever thought I was good enough to play at a college level.

My chest felt heavy. The coach barely acknowledged me. The team pretended I didn't exist. I wasn't sure if I would even last the season.

It was like Rowan had said. I was practically a professional benchwarmer at this point.

Suddenly, he looked up from his book, meeting my eyes. His lips tilted in a smirk and anger flushed through me once again.

Reed blew his whistle and I spun, dropping the ball and throwing myself into the warmup drills until my legs were screaming and sweat rolled freely down my forehead.

I was going to prove him wrong.

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My legs felt like they were about to give out. They wobbled beneath me as I forced myself to walk across the field to where I'd left my bag. Ahead of me, the rest of the team laughed and joked around.

How were they not completely exhausted?

It had been another terrible practice of being ignored by the coach and excluded by the rest of the team. I was so far behind everyone else, it felt like I'd never catch up. Even with all my extra practice, my extra training – I'd never be at their level. I'd never play a match. Not if Reed or Coach had a say in it.

I was slower than them. My defence sucked. My dribbling could be better. All of my passes seemed to roll right past my teammates, and it seemed like I was invisible to them, considering how little they ever passed the ball to me. Even if it meant losing a potential advantage.

I'd taken Flora's advice and managed to get a few goals past Amar today, but I knew I needed to practice more. He'd caught on quickly and managed to block me for the rest of our practice.

I needed to work on my technique. I'd go back to my dorm and eat, have a quick nap, then come back to train more.

I nodded to myself, dropping to the grass to grab my bottle and pour water down my throat. It didn't matter how tired I was, how much my bones seemed to ache, how far I fell behind in lectures – I needed to be better. I needed to be the best.

"Nice work today, Sebastian."

I looked up to see Matt, a sophomore with blond hair and pale skin, standing over me. I blinked, then smiled widely, standing to meet his eye.

"Thanks," I said. "You too."

He lifted a brow, snorting and shooting a look at Nick over his shoulder. "Dude. I was being sarcastic. You pretty much fucked up every free kick you had today."

My smile dropped. I looked to Nick who was laughing behind his palm.

Ah. Of course. What did I think? That Matt was being nice to me? Complimenting me on another terrible practice?

"Hey! Don't bully the freshman," Reed cut in. He stepped closer, slinging his towel over his shoulder, and cocking a brow at me. "Simon, right? Don't stress. Keep up the hard work and you might be subbed in at our match this Saturday."

I blinked at him. It was an insult. I knew it was, from his condescending tone and his choice of words. Might be subbed in. Yet I couldn't help that spark of hope that lit up in my chest.

"Seriously?" I asked.

Reed nodded. "Yeah, dude. I mean, Nick would have to fracture an ankle, and then every other freshman would need to pull a hamstring or two, but it's possible."

I stared at him, that tiny spark of hoping smothering out.

"Right." I forced a smile onto my face, chuckling at his joke. "Yeah. Always possible, huh?"

"Exactly!" Reed laughed, slapping me on the back.

Behind him, the rest of the team chuckled. At my expense. Great. I knelt back to my bag, my smile falling instantly.

I needed to get back to my dorm. The sooner I got there, the sooner I could get back on the field for more training.

The sooner I could catch up to them all. Prove them all wrong.

"Ah, come on man. Don't get down on yourself." I looked up to see Amar grinning from behind me. "It's just a bit of hazing."

"Yeah," I muttered. I forced a smile on my face and reached down to grab my bag, not bothering to change out of my cleats or take my towel out to wipe my sweat away. "Yeah. Of course. No worries, dude. See you tomorrow."

I didn't wait to see if he responded. I turned on my heel, storming off the field.

I missed home.

I missed my friends.

I missed Isaac, and Chloe, and Aspen, and hell, I even missed Arthur.

I missed being the popular guy at school. The one who rejected the entire female population. The one everyone looked up to.

The best soccer player in town.

Now, I was the worst soccer player on the team. The least liked. Friendless.

I was halfway across the field when my eyes caught on Flora. She paused in her tracks, waving me over, and I stepped towards her, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, grinning. Her smile lit up her face and I felt my anger seep away.

"Hey," I murmured. I may not be angry anymore, but I was still tired. Sick of everything and everyone, and there was no pretending – Flora was obsessed with the rest of the team. A topic I wanted to stay far away from right now.

"You did good at practice today," she said. I fought a grimace at the blatant lie. "I noticed your free kicks improved. Listen. Amar's weak with his right side. Maybe try that a little more? Tire him out?"

I blinked. It was true. The few goals I'd managed past him had been around there. I shook my head in disbelief, my curls falling to stick to my forehead.

"God. Be my private coach, will ya?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. They drifted over my shoulder, widening. "Oh, shit! They're leaving! I gotta go, Sebastian. I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

I nodded, then paused, hesitating. "Actually, are you free today?"

Her attention snapped back to me. She stared. I swallowed thickly. It was weird, being the one reaching out for once. I felt like I was straggling for friends. It was humiliating. I pushed forward.

"I'm going to train again later. You want to come? I could really use your advice."

"Oh," she said. She blinked, then shook her head, realising she had to respond. "Of course. Yeah. I mean, I have a class at ten, but I can be here by noon?"

"Sounds good," I said, cracking a grin. "See you."

She nodded, shooting me a smile, and sprinting off towards the rest of the team. I released a tight breath. That went well, right?

I shoulders tensed as I continued walking down the field. Flora had a good eye, and she didn't completely disregard me like Coach did. I understood. Coach had to prioritise the older players, the better players. But, God, it was starting to get to me.

Maybe Flora could help me improve. Maybe I could get onto the field at a match for once. Score a goal.

Maybe I could invite my friends.

My phone weighed heavy in my pocket, full of ignored texts and missed calls.

I'd have to face them eventually.

Somehow, I was feeling worse than when training had started. I'd made it to the edge of the field, but before I could continue towards my dorm, someone stepped out from one of the pillars.

Rowan.

He couldn't just give me a break, could he?

"Hey," he said.

I ignored him, bristling past. His footsteps followed me.

"What? Training went bad? You'd think you'd be used to it by now," he said. His voice lilted and I knew he was smirking, trying to rile me up. "How many goals did you miss today? Maybe we should turn this into a game. Take a shot when Sebastian misses." He barked out a laugh. "Actually, I take that back. Might die."

I spun on my heel, stepping forward suddenly to shove his chest.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I'm seriously not in the mood to put up with your shit today."

He paused, inches away from me. I huffed; my brow furrowed as I sneered up at him. He was annoyingly tall and that only made me want to punch him more.

Instead of frowning at me, or backing off, he did much worse.

He smirked.

Smirked!

He actually had the gall to smirk in my face.

"So, you'll put up with my shit some other day?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?"

"You said you're not in the mood to put up with me today," he clarified, stepping back, and rolling up his sleeves. "So, you'll put up with me another day? How's tomorrow? I'm pretty free tomorrow."

"No, that's – uh – not what I meant –"

"Friday, then? I've got a literature class that day, but I'm sure I can make time –"

"No – listen, we are not meeting up – wait. I thought you were studying economics?"

He paused, his smile growing. "Been looking into me, have you?"

I warmed, growling, "No, you idiot. You bumped into me in my microeconomics class."

"Right," he said, lifting a brow. "Heard of a double major, Sebastian?"

"Stop calling me that."

"What, your name?"

"No – I –" I cut myself off with an exasperated groan.

"What should I call you then? Sebby? Bash? Bastian?"

"Don't refer to me at all," I spat back.

"That's no fun. How will we converse at our Friday meetup Bastian?"

I paused, realising he was just toying with me. Toying with me the way I used to toy with people. Back when I ruled high school.

Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heel, decidedly storming off. I didn't have to put up with him. I had more important things to worry about. Like – like soccer.

I'd forgotten about training for a moment. About the upcoming match and how dreadful my training had gone this morning.

Before I was out of earshot, Rowan yelled after me.

"See you tomorrow, Sebby!"

I couldn't help it. I had to laugh.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi! I hope you all liked this chapter! Let me know what you think of Rowan, Seb, Flora and everything else in the story so far!

Next time: we have an unusual alliance