Titan.
My eyes track the screen automatically, landing on him—sweaty, grinning, teammates slapping his shoulders. I fold my arms, scoffing under my breath.
Great.
Now. Even at work, I can’t escape him.
nine
fancy meeting you here.
Jabari.
?The lockerroom is loud in that good way.
Cleats hit tile.
Lockers slam.
Someone’s got music blasting from a speaker that definitely isn’t allowed in here during games, bass rattling the benches. Sweat hangs heavy in the air, but is smothered in whatever industrial-strength cleaner the staff uses to pretend this place doesn’t smell like men after ninety minutes of war.
We won.
That’s the part that matters.
I drop onto the bench in front of my locker, peel my shirt over my head, and let it hang from my fingers for a second before tossing it aside. My chest’s still heaving, heart banging like it’s trying to escape my ribs.
Adrenaline hasn’t figured out the game’s over yet. Usually, we had press conferences after games, but thankfully Coach O’Shea decided to skip all that.
I didn’t need those pigeons in my space after my first game here anyway.
My first game.
Of course we won.
I have too much to lose and prove not to.
Iwon if we want to get technical.
But is it enough to get us out of relegation?
Coach claps his hands, voice cutting through the noise of the room.
“Alright, listen up. Good work today. That’s the tempo I want to see. Discipline. Communication. Hunger. We still have a lot to do so don’t get comfortable.”
The room settles just enough for him to pace, boots echoing against the floor as he points, corrects, rewinds the match in real time with his words. I like that even though we won, he still went over ways they could improve.
I tone it out as he goes over other players' faults, cause it has nothing to do with me.
Until he stops in front of me.
“Good first game, McKingsley,” he says. “But you missed that header in the second half. What’s going on?”
That’s it?
Why am I not surprised? I played a perfect game and the only criticism I got was missing a header on a goal I still scored? Well, the least I could do was give him an honest answer.
I lean back, stretching my neck and rolling my shoulders.
