"Foul!"

A whistle and some yelling.

"Sebastian!"

My coach. It was my coach yelling now. He was storming towards me – which was threatening in itself, but even more so when it was a giant, balding man dressed in a red tracksuit that matched the colour of his face. Even his head was beginning to turn read. I stared at his giant red globe of a head for a second too long and suddenly he was in front of me.

"Get up," he said, waving his hand at me.

I stood from the bench, frowning.

"What?"

"Get up," he repeated. "Get your hoodie off. You're playing."

"I'm what?"

"What are you, deaf?" He grabbed my hood, tugging it over my head. "Hurry up. Nick is injured and you're taking over as a forward."

"You want me to–"

Before I could finish my sentence, Coach shot me a glare and my jaw snapped audibly shut. I tugged my hoodie over my head, smoothing down my jersey and falling to my knees to fix my laces. My coach stood over me, talking rapidly, his face only turning redder.

"Alright, you know the play. Just – look, just try to pass it to Reed, got it? Reed will take it from there."

I looked up, noticing the weary look on his face, the wrinkle in his brow – he didn't trust me. Just over his shoulder, the rest of the team stared at me. Reed stared at me, concern written in his eyes. Nick was limping across the field, hunching over the grab at his leg. Amar, Matt.

Everyone was watching. Waiting. Counting on me.

Expecting me to fail.

Beyond the field, I spotted Rowan and Flora, watching in the stands. Chloe had come along – this time invited – and sat beside Flora, all three of them watching me with wide eyes. Chloe screamed at me to go. Flora shot me a thumbs up. Rowan stayed silent, but his lips twitched in such a miniscule way that anyone else wouldn't have noticed it, but I recognised it for what it was – silent encouragement – and I nodded, standing.

I could do this.

This was my time. This was finally my opportunity. How long had I complained, whined over not getting to play in a proper match? And now Coach was putting me on, and as a forward! It was my chance. I had to do it, and I had to do it well.

I walked onto the field, suddenly wishing I had stretched more beforehand, warmed up more, practiced more. Hell, listening to Coach before the match would've been good enough.

We were up against a college I'd never heard of; with students I'd never seen before. All I knew was what I'd seen so far.

I grabbed my foot, stretching my hamstrings briefly as I took my place. And then the whistle blew, and we were off.

Reed instantly had the ball and was heading for the goal with a speed that only came after years of proper training. I followed him, parallel, watching the boy trailing him – Number 23.

I'd seen him earlier. He was a good attack, but he had a tendency to slide tackle without checking his surroundings.

I sprinted faster, my shoes biting into the grass beneath me. The weather was getting colder and the grass was slick with morning dew. I struggled to keep my footing, but pushed on, faster, faster.

The cold wind hit the sweat on my brow, and I could feel the ghost of my old curls brushing over my forehead, the way it used to when I played matches in school. Except now they were gone, cut short to the scalp, and everything had changed in the blink of an eye.

And then – there it was. Number 23 slid, the ball hitting his foot and barrelling sideways. Right towards me, right where I'd positioned myself, waiting.

I caught it easily beneath my boot.

Reed's eyes snapped towards mine.

The coach was beyond his shoulder, staring with wide eyes.

And then Rowan was shouting, "RUN!"

Rowan never shouted. I almost laughed.

But then I snapped back into the reality of the situation, pivoting on my heel and sprinting, dribbling the ball down the field. On either side of me, I could see the opposing team, racing, searching for an opening, but I was too fast.

I swivelled, dodging them, peeling away from the defenders, running, running, running.

The goal was getting closer. The other team's goalie watched me, moving as I moved – ready.

"SEBASTIAN!"

It was Reed. He ran to my left, trying to dodge a defender.

"Sebastian, pass it to me!" he shouted.

I ignored him, running faster.

"Pass it you idiot! We've got only 2 minutes left, pass it!"

Everyone was yelling now. Coach. The team. And Reed just would not shut up.

I threw a glance his way. He'd failed to get rid of the defender and I knew if I passed it now, we'd only lose the ball and go into a tiebreaker.

I snapped my eyes back to the goal, focusing in on the goalie. The way he moved. Where he looked. The current score was 2-2. I'd seen him save two other goals, but it wasn't enough to get a tell on him.

Not for me at least.

I threw a look over my shoulder, scanning the crowds to find Flora. She was already watching me, standing on her seat so that she was Rowan's height. She pointed a finger, jabbing it straight through the air, then to the side.

I nodded, turning back to the goal. I'd peeled off the defenders at this point. Reed was far behind me now.

I was so far ahead.

And I slowed down.

"What are you doing, Sebastian?" Coach's voice came from the sidelines.

I ignored him, keeping the defenders in my peripheral, focusing on the goalie. And as predicted, he sprinted closer, running straight towards me. Leaving the goal empty.

I lifted a foot.

And I kicked.

The ball left the soil, spinning across the grass, past the goalie and into the corner of the goal. A whistle blew. It slammed into the net and I fell to my knees in disbelief.

Did I just –

"GOAL!"

Something hit me from behind and I spun to see Alex grabbing me, shouting in celebration.

"You did it!" he screamed.

"I..." I couldn't finish my sentence. Arms were all around me and over me and I was sliding across the grass.

And it hit me.

We'd won. I'd won. I'd scored the winning goal and time was out and – and we'd won.

Snapping out of my daze, I elbowed my way out of the crowd, my eyes finding Rowan. He bounded down the bleachers, racing across the field towards me and I met him halfway, throwing my arms around his neck. He grabbed my waist, lifting me off the grass.

"I did it!" I yelled over the cheers of the team and the crowd, and Rowan laughed – actually laughed.

"You did!" he shouted back. He placed me back onto the grass, smiling. "Congratulations."

I smiled back and from beside me, Flora's voice.

"Sebastian!"

I turned and she leapt into my arms.

"Congratulations!" she squealed. "I knew you could do it! With your training, and your dribbling. I mean, your right foot has gotten so much stronger, and that swing! And the way you avoided all those defenders, oh my goodness, it was just –"

"Alright, Ji Woo, that's enough." Chloe stepped forward, shooting me a casual smile. She threw her arm around Flora's shoulders, tugging her closer. "Congrats, Sebby. Always knew you could do it, and all that."

I rolled my eyes, grinning. "Gee, thanks for congratulations, Chloe. Feeling really warm and fuzzy right now."

She almost cracked a smile. Almost.

"I try."

"Congratulations, Georges."

I turned, my eyes meeting Reed's. He frowned at me, arms folded across his chest and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Thanks," I said, facing him. I regarded him, tension simmering between us, before saying, "You played good."

He lifted a brow. And slowly, so slowly, his lips twitched at the corner. "Wish I could say the same about you. Not sure why Coach put you on –"

"Well, it looks like he made the right decision," Rowan chimed in, stepping forward. He set his jaw, cutting a glare towards Reed. "You won, didn't you? Go celebrate."

A polite way to say fuck off, really.

Reed did not, in fact, fuck off though.

His grin grew, turning into a slimy smirk as his eyes darted between me and Rowan. His eyes widened in realization and he began to laugh.

"Oh, this is too good," he said. "I mean, seriously. Who knew someone like you could even score a goal?"

"Someone like me?" I spat, stepping forward. I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to say more.

"Yeah, someone like you," he continued. "Oh man, I should've sensed something in the locker room. That's disgusting."

"What's disgusting, Reed?" I was seething now. "Pick your next words very carefully."

He laughed, ignoring me, and glancing behind me, his eyes landing on Flora. His smile grew into an ear-splitting grin.

"Ah, Flora," he said, moving his attention towards her. She shrunk into herself, taking a tiny step back. Chloe scowled, moving in front of her. "Or Jing Jong, was it? Something like that, right? It was fun, our little fling back in high school. Won me a solid twenty bucks. Thanks for that."

He was halfway through a laugh when I slammed my fist into his jaw.

He fell backwards, still laughing, and I fell on top of him, pinning him to the grass. I reeled my fist back, preparing to punch him again when someone was grabbing at my arm.

I fought against their grip, scowling as Reed continued laughing beneath me.

"Let me go!" I shouted. "He deserves it! Someone needs to teach him a lesson!"

"You can't!" Rowan was shouting. He tugged at my arm. "Stop it, Seb!"

"Sebastian!" Flora was screaming. "Stop!"

"No! He – he – he called you –"

"Stop," Rowan repeated, his voice lower. "You'll get kicked off the team."

I frowned. I was snapped back to the field, to the rest of the team and crowd around me. He was right. Reluctantly, I stood.

"Yeah!" Reed shouted, angry. He wiped at his nose, sneering at me from the ground as he hoisted himself onto his elbows. "Don't try that again, or you'll be off the team for sure!"

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to look back at him. Rowan stood in front of me, his eyes meeting mine briefly before flashing back to Reed.

"He might get kicked off the team," Rowan said, deadly quiet. "But I won't."

Rowan shoved me to the side, grabbing Reed's collar and punching him right in the nose with a sick crunching sound. Reed grunted, blood coming off on Rowan's fist, but he didn't stop, hitting him again in the jaw – and again.

"Stop!" Reed shouted and Rowan complied, his fist hovering inches above his face.

Reed looked scared.

I smiled.

"Don't ever say shit like that again," Rowan said.

Reed snorted, but with the threat of Rowan's fist hovering above his nose, he flinched and quickly muttered, "Fine. Whatever. Just get off me."

"Apologise first."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Rowan said. "Apologise."

They stared at each other for a minute – Reed frowning in disgust and Rowan seething, shooting him a glare that could cut through glass. Then, Reed turned his head, struggling under Rowan's grip, and muttered through clenched teeth.

I squinted at him. "What was that? Didn't quite catch it."

"Sorry!" he shouted, wriggling against Rowan's death grip. "Now get the fuck off me."

Rowan glanced at me, then at the coach who had realised what was happening and jogging towards us. He sighed, begrudgingly stepping off of Reed and standing beside me.

"You're definitely getting suspended," I muttered to him, watching as Coach reached us, grabbing Reed's arm and lugging him up off the grass.

Rowan laughed. "It was worth it."

"Thanks for that," I said. I turned to face him completely and he smiled at me. "Seriously. I feel like I can do anything when I'm with you."

His fingers brushed mine, inching closer in the air. "Lucky for you, there's no getting rid of me anytime soon."

I smiled back.

Lucky me.

THE END