“You avoiding practice?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I wanted to see how you’re treating the newbies.”
From behind us, the dying newbie wheezes, “I’m literally dying over here.”
“They’re doing great,” I tell Colten.
Colten looks behind us for a second before shrugging and pressing closer. “Don’t forget you still have your own training.”
“Ha, like you would let me forget,” I say.
I’m still a scholarship student, and I still have to earn it by playing on the team, but Coach and I worked out a fair compromise. After I apologized to him for giving up on going pro, he just patted my shoulder and told me I could train my replacement.
So far, I haven’t found one, but it is fun bullying the newbies.
And, after some prompting from Colten, I also apologized for souring the waters with Rick the dick.
Coach agreed Rick was a dick, and also said that I was never allowed to go to a meet with him again.
“That’s correct,” Colten replies.
I smile at him, enjoying the sunshine and last bit of summer weather before the rain takes back over.
I still love soccer, that part is the same as ever. But it’s not this heavy thing sitting on my chest anymore, demanding everything I have and then asking for more.
Now it’s just fun again.
There’s the never-ending movement, the teamwork, the sound of cleats on grass and someone laughing as they finally pull off a cool trick.
Sure, I need to play for the scholarship, but I no longer feel like I’m chasing something that might never choose me back. I don’t have to wear my body down with the chance of even moreinjuries, all while trying to make the people around me happy by being the best.
Now, I get to just enjoy the game, and help others do the same. And everyone doesn’t hate me for not going pro! It’s amazing, and so, so freeing.
I didn’t realize how scared I was of that until I had to tell my parents. Thankfully, as my mother gently reminded me, the world does not revolve around me. They still have the twins and football, after all.
“Look at the lazy couple, not even pretending they’re not here to flirt anymore,” Rich calls out as he and Brian pass us, both of them running drills down near us.
“Rich? Didn’t you graduate?” I ask, even though I know the answer. Colten does too, and barks out a laugh.
“Shut up! I need my master's!” Rich says, just barely keeping himself from crying.
“It’s okay man, you’ll graduate eventually,” Brian consoles him as they dribble their balls past us. Rich cries harder, but continues to dribble. I can respect that.
My eyes catch on the school’s mascot, a golden phoenix with huge cartoon eyes, standing further down the field and turned towards us.
Not moving, not doing anything, but just silently staring.
I turn back toward the newbies and pretend I didn’t see anything. If I ignore it, I’m sure it will go away eventually.
Colten’s attention is already on the newbies, laughing under his breath when one of them nearly face plants from trying to do a stepover too fast.
I watch Colten, taking in how the sunlight catches in his freshly dyed black hair. He looks relaxed, wearing the easy smile that's become so much more common these past few months.
And I think, yeah. This is it. This is exactly what I want.
“Hey, random question,” I say.
“That’s never a good start,” Colten replies, his eyes still on the newbies.
