Chapter 16 NEW KID
POV: TEDDY
Coach Myers only had one setting: intense.
Teddy figured that out right away. Four minutes after walking into the athletic complex, he was holding a training schedule while Myers looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t carry passengers.” It was clear Myers had said those words a hundred times and meant every single one.
Teddy instantly liked him.
The last two years at Riverdale Prep, Teddy’s old coach had cared more about appearances than anything else. Winning was good, but winning in a way that made the right families happy was even better. The legacy kids played, even if they were not the best. You never risked embarrassing the wrong people. Soccer at Riverdale was just politics by another name.
Coach Myers never once brought up anyone’s family.
He talked about fitness tests, tactical drills, making smart decisions when the pressure was on. He made it clear that tryouts started tomorrow at four, and nobody got special treatment no matter where they came from.
Teddy walked out of the athletic complex feeling something he had not felt for soccer in a long time:
Hunger.
He crossed the quad in the early evening, schedule in hand, replaying the conversation in his mind. He knew he had skill. He always had. What he was not so sure about was whether he had the kind of skill that would hold up here, under real pressure, against real competition, not just the fake intensity of a private school team where half the starters were there because their parents had donated new uniforms.
Tomorrow would give him answers he actually wanted.
He walked through the West Hall entrance and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. The hallway was quiet, most people still at dinner. His room was third from the end. As he passed by Room 247, he heard something from inside, so soft he almost missed it.
A single word.
Okay.
The kind of word you say when you think nobody else is listening. Quiet, private, like someone finally deciding something just for themselves.
Teddy slowed his steps for a moment.
That was James Blake’s room.
He kept going, not because he was uninterested, but because whatever was going on in there, it was private. He had a feeling James Blake did not get much privacy, and probably needed every scrap he could get.
He unlocked his own door, dropped his schedule on the desk, and sat on the edge of the bed.
There was something about James Blake that Teddy could not figure out. It bothered him, not in a suspicious way, but the way a puzzle bothered you when you could see there was a missing piece but could not quite figure out where it fit.
He thought back to registration. Hayes had looked over at them, and everyone else had reacted the same way they always did around Hayes, awkward, uncomfortable, trying not to make eye contact. James, though, had gone still. Not nervous, but controlled, almost like he was trained to do it. He pulled himself together so quickly that Teddy almost missed it.
Almost.
Teddy lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
He was not going to make things weird. James seemed like someone who could not afford any extra weirdness right now, and Teddy was smart enough to know when to give people space. But he was definitely going to keep paying attention. Not because he thought something was wrong, but because something about James was interesting. Teddy Phillips had always been bad at looking away from interesting things.
He picked up the training schedule and read it again.
Tomorrow. Four PM. Everyone starts from zero.
He remembered what James had said at registration when Teddy brought up soccer tryouts.
Maybe. Still figuring things out.
James had said it like someone who already knew the answer but was not quite ready to say it out loud.
Teddy knew what a real soccer player looked like. It was never about height or build. It was the way someone stood when they thought nobody was watching, the way their weight shifted, all those tiny movements that came from years of practice.
James Blake moved like someone who belonged on the field.
He would find out for sure tomorrow.
He folded the schedule, set it on the nightstand, and went to go find dinner.
Author’s Note: Teddy Phillips notices things. Also, Jordan and her cleats, if you felt that, you get it. Save this chapter if these two are already getting under your skin. — J