Chapter 24 : Unpredictable
HAYDEN’S POV
The week of soccer tryouts couldn’t have come at a worse time or maybe it was perfect timing.
Anything was better than thinking about the mess I’d made.
I woke up to an empty bed.
For a second, I just stared at the ceiling, blinking against the morning light cutting through the blinds. My head was pounding, not from alcohol, but from everything else. The fight, the party and Stephen’s face when he saw me last night.
Lilian wasn’t there and her side of the bed was cold.
I sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. She hadn’t left a note or a text either. I checked my phone anyway.
There was nothing.
That was strange. Lilian wasn’t exactly the “sneak out quietly and disappear” type. She usually liked to leave an impression.
I pushed the thought away. It doesn’t matter. I had bigger things to focus on.
Soccer tryouts started today. It was a new semester with a new roster and a new captain.
Last semester, it was Stephen and me at the top. Him as captain and me as the main striker.
And yeah, I’d been pissed about it.
Not because I didn’t respect him. Stephen is good at soccer, annoyingly disciplined, focused, responsible. The coach, Master Wade, loved that, well teachers loved that, so did everyone.
Being captain got him the accolades, the interviews, the arm band and the leadership title. It also got him attention.
And somewhere in that spotlight, the stupid tension between us started.
At first it was competitive. Then it became personal. Then it just became… ugly.
Now? Now I didn’t want the spotlight for ego. I wanted it to prove something, well not to him but to myself.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. My room still smelled faintly like perfume and sweat. I exhaled sharply and grabbed a hoodie from the chair.
Whatever was going on with Lilian, I didn’t have time for it.
I walked into the kitchen expecting to see Stephen there, because he was always up early.
The counter was empty and his coffee mug was gone. He had probably already left.
It was good.
I didn’t feel like dealing with his judgmental stare before eight a.m.
The field was already buzzing when I got there.
Guys were stretching, cleats digging into turf. The sharp scent of grass and cold air mixing together. Mister Wade stood near the bleachers with his
clipboard, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.
Tryout week was brutal. Everyone played like their future depended on it.
Maybe it did.
I adjusted my shin guards and jogged a lap around the field, letting my muscles warm up. The rhythm of my steps steadied something in my chest.
This was mine.
Not the drama, or the hallway whispers, or the looks people gave me during the party as I danced with Lilian.
This.
The ball rolled toward me and I trapped it cleanly under my foot. A freshman I didn’t recognize nodded nervously.
“Run it,” I told him.
He did.
I moved instinctively, one touch, then two. I cut left, then accelerate. The defender lunged and I slipped past him like he wasn’t even there. I took a shot and it landed at the top corner. The net snapped sharply.
A few guys whistled.
That felt good.
Mister Wade didn’t smile, he never did, but he scribbled something on his clipboard.
Across the field, Stephen was already leading a small group through passing drills.
Of course he was.
He wasn’t even captain yet and he was acting like one.
He barked instructions, corrected stances, repositioned people without hesitation. The team gravitated toward him naturally.
That used to piss me off.
Today, it just made my jaw tighten. I jogged over.
He glanced at me once, expression unreadable, then went back to talking.
“…tighten your spacing. You’re leaving gaps. If we press high, we press together.”
I stepped into the drill without asking. Our eyes met for half a second. There was something there but it was not anger exactly.
Mr Wade whistle cut through the air. “Scrimmage!” he called. “Captains split the teams.”
Captains? That was Plural. He looked between Stephen and me.
“Last semester’s leaders, for now.”
For now. My pulse picked up.
Stephen didn’t hesitate. He started calling names calmly and strategically.
I did the same.
By the time we were lined up opposite each other, the tension was thick.
Then we kickoff.
The game moved fast, faster than usual. Everyone wanted to impress Mr Wade and not end up on the bench this session.
But it always came back to us.
Midfield broke down and the ball ricocheted loose. Stephen intercepted it and pushed forward. I tracked back, cutting off his angle.
He glanced up, reading the field. I knew that look. He was going to fake right.
He did.
I didn’t bite. I stepped in, shoulder to shoulder, and stole it clean.
“Still predictable,” I muttered as I passed him.
He didn’t react to it. That annoyed me more than if he had.
I drove downfield, defender on my back. One quick touch to create space, I took the shot on low this time and it was a goal.
My teammates erupted.
I didn’t celebrate. I just looked at Mister Wade and then at Stephen. His expression didn’t change but his jaw tightened.
The practice ended tied.
Mister Wade gathered us in. “Leadership isn’t just skill,” he said evenly. “It’s discipline, composure and responsibility.”
His eyes lingered on both of us a little too long. I knew what he meant—The party, the rumors and the stupid tension between me and Stephen.
Great, exactly what I needed hanging over my head.
As practice wrapped, guys filtered off the field in sweaty, exhausted clusters.
Stephen stayed back, picking up stray cones. I almost walked away. Instead, I jogged over.
“You didn’t have to take that midfielder in the third rotation,” I said. “He slows the press.”
Stephen didn’t look at me. “He’s got stamina. You burn out your wingers too fast.”
I huffed. “You always play safe, don’t you?.”
“And you always play reckless.”
There it was. I crossed my arms. “Reckless wins games.”
“Reckless loses teams and the game.”
That landed harder than it should have. We stood there in silence for a second.
“Are you trying to be captain?” he asked finally.
“Yes.” I said with no hesitation.
He studied me. “Why?”
Because I’m tired of feeling second, I need something that’s mine and everything else feels like it’s slipping.
I didn't say all that. Instead, I shrugged. “Why not?”
His gaze sharpened. Like he could see through the lie. “Being captain isn’t about attention,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“Do you?” He narrowed his eyes on me.
I stepped closer. “This isn’t about last semester.”
“Everything’s about last semester,” he replied.
The wind whipped across the field. I clenched my jaw. “Look. Whatever your issue is…….keep it off the field.”
He held my stare. “That depends on you.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “You think you’re better than me?”
“No,” he said calmly. “I think you don’t think things through, that's all.”
That stung but before I could respond, Mister Wade called his name from across the field.
Stephen grabbed the cones and walked off without another word.
I stood there, staring at the goalpost. I didn’t want the stupid beef or drama anymore.
I didn’t want to fight about Lilian or Ella or whatever the hell that mess had turned into.
I just wanted the armband and be the captain.
I pulled out my phone as I headed toward the locker room. There was still nothing from Lilian.
It was fine.
If she wanted to avoid me, she could. I had important shit to do.
Captain announcements were at the end of the week and I wasn’t walking into this semester second to anyone.