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THE TENSION IN THE AIR IS PALPABLE as I stand on the side of the pitch, watching the Royal Academy football team warming up. Aly and Val are with me. JJ didn’t show up today, not that I’m surprised. She never comes to these games and for today, I guess that’s for the best.
After our argument on girls’ night a while ago, things have been… off between us. We haven’t really addressed it, just pretending like nothing happened. It’s awkward, and I don’t know if it’s better this way or worse. I can feel the weight of it, but I can’t let myself think about it now. The game is about to start, and I need to focus.
Felix jogs over, his football boots tapping against the ground. “Hey, good luck,” I say, forcing a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes.
“Thanks, but after this, can we talk?” He catches me off guard with the seriousness in his tone.
“Talk? About what?” I ask, frowning.
“I’ll tell you later, but it’s important, I promise.” He looks at me with such intensity that it sends a ripple of unease through me.
I let out a short, almost nervous laugh. “Yeah, sure.”
He lets out a breath of relief, and I see his shoulders relax, which makes mine do the exact opposite. “Okay, good. I’ll see you soon, yeah? I have to be the star of the match now.” He smirks.
“Oh, really?” I tease, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You know it.” He shrugs his shoulders cockily before turning around and jogging back to his team.
I let out a deep exhale, smoke pooling around my mouth due to the cold air. I head up to the stands, hands in my coat pocket, and sit down next to my friends.
“Twenty pounds they lose,” Valeria says without hesitation.
Aly turns sharply, a fierce glare in her eyes. “Hey, that’s my man’s team you’re talking about.”
This makes me laugh despite myself. “C’mon, Val, you know how defensive she gets of Carson.”
“No, I do not,” Aly protests but she’s not fooling anyone.
“Oh, yes you do,” Valeria teases, giving her a little nudge.
The two of them bicker a little more, but I tune it out, my eyes scanning the pitch for a certain someone. It doesn’t take long to find him. Aaron.
He’s scanning the stands, too, and when our eyes meet a warmth spreads through my chest, slow and steady, like the first sip of hot chocolate on a freezing day. It’s the kind of warmth that settles deep, making me feel lighter, like the world has momentarily shrunk to just the two of us.
It’s stupid. Completely ridiculous. But I don’t look away.
Aaron doesn’t either. A smirk tugs at his lips, that signature cocky grin that should annoy me but never really does. He lifts his chin, subtle but intentional, and I know he was looking for me. He meant it when he said he’d be.
Something tightens in my throat, and I swallow, pressing my palms against my thighs as if that will stop my heart from thudding so damn hard. It’s just a look. Just a stupid look. So why does it feel like my entire body is tuned in to him, as if the rest of the stadium doesn’t exist?
Before I can make sense of it, before I can even react, he winks.
The warmth inside me flares into something more, something dangerous, and I have to force myself to roll my eyes, breaking the moment before he gets an even bigger ego.
“Was that what I think it is?” Val whispers, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” I say quickly, shaking my head, trying to hide the heat that’s creeping up my neck.
“I knew he had a thing for you,” she mutters with a knowing smile.
“He doesn’t. We’re just friends, Val.”
But before I can say anything else, the referee blows the whistle, and the match kicks off. The crowd’s energy rises, and I can hear my dad’s voice cutting through the noise, directing his team with precision.
Growing up with football, I know all the rules, and I’ve spent countless hours around the sport, but the truth is, I hate it. I can’t seem to focus on the game, and instead, my mind drifts back to Felix’s request. He sounded serious. Maybe it has something to do with what’s going on at home.
I haven’t talked to my parents much since they took my phone away-just the occasional good morning. They’ve made it clear that they’ve had enough of me so maybe it’s better that way, to just keep distance so I don’t start any more problems.
Well, on the plus side I have my phone for tonight. I begged and begged my mum for it. I told her that I needed some way to communicate with Aly and Val since we were going to meet up for the game. I don’t think she even cared about that, she probably just handed me my phone since I was distracting her from her work. I have it now though, so I don’t really mind. If I asked my dad for it back, no amount of pleading would change his mind.
A cheer rises from the crowd, snapping me back to the present. I look up just in time to see Aaron lining up a shot from just a few feet away from the halfway line. My heart races as he kicks the ball, and it soars through the air. The keeper dives, but he’s nowhere near it. The ball slams into the top corner of the net.
A goal!
I stand up, cheering with everyone else, my voice louder than usual. But I can’t help it, I’m genuinely happy for him.
The whole team erupts in celebration, and I watch as Felix claps Aaron on the back. Wait, what? Since when are Felix and Aaron friends? How did I miss this?
I sit back down, my mind buzzing with questions. But I guess this is a good thing then. No more fights between them so I guess Felix wouldn’t care that Aaron and I are friends.
The match continues, and as half-time approaches, the teams start to head to the locker rooms. I use the excuse of needing to use the bathroom and slip away from the stands, my heart still pounding from the excitement of Aaron’s goal. I wait in the school corridor, my nerves building as I hear footsteps. Aaron is one of the last players to leave, and when he sees me, confusion flashes in his eyes, but he smiles anyway.
“The scouts are gonna be all over you, Aaron!” I exclaim, trying to keep things light, though my heart is still racing.
“You saw that?” he asks, his smile widening.
“Of course I did.” I slap his shoulder playfully. “You turned into Ronaldo for a second there.”
He laughs, a low, genuine sound. “Carmen, you’re starting to compliment me a little too much.”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” I say with a grin, but he’s already teasing me again.
“We’re having a moment?” He raises an eyebrow.
“See? You just did it.”
“Oh, yeah?” he chuckles, taking a step towards me.
I look at him, his eyes sparkling, but I shake my head. “Go! Before anyone realizes you’re gone.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods his head curtly, a smile still on his lips as he turns around to jog to the pitch.
“Good luck!” I call after him. I stand there for a moment, my eyes lingering on the back of his jersey. O’Connor #10.
Wait. What the fuck?
What on Earth am I doing here? Going out of my way to go talk to him and congratulate him?
Is that what friends do? I mean, it seems like it’s the right thing. I’ve never had a friend like Aaron before.
I walk back to the stands, the small smile still on my face. Valeria raises her brows at me, giving me a look.
“What?” I huff. “I really did need to take a piss.”
She rolls her eyes with a small laugh and diverts her attention back onto the pitch as the game is back in motion. Felix scores soon after, with a beautiful shot bottom right after Carson crosses the ball to him.
The crowd erupts again, and I cheer for him. Even with everything that’s happened between us, I still want him to succeed. And right now, scouts are watching him. I know that much.
But then, the energy shifts. The game takes a dangerous turn.
Harrington Hall is starting to push forward, and I can feel the tension rising. Aaron is in the middle of it all when a player from the opposing team slides in to steal the ball. Aaron manages to intercept it, but before he can make a pass, the same player comes barreling into him, knocking him off balance.
I gasp as I see Aaron’s ankle twist in a way it shouldn’t. His body slams against the grass and the whole crowd goes silent. Silent enough to hear Aaron’s sharp gasp of pain. My breath catches in my throat, and everything around me fades to a blur as I watch him writhe in pain on the ground.
I hear Felix shout, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s on top of the opposing player, shoving him away. The crowd is on their feet, the tension thick in the air as players from both teams start to push each other. The referee blows his whistle furiously, and I watch as he pulls out a red card, sending the player who tackled Aaron off the pitch.
But none of that matters to me. All I can focus on is Aaron, who is still lying there, clutching his ankle, his face contorted in pain.
“Come on, Aaron,” I whisper under my breath, my body frozen in place.
My dad runs onto the pitch, kneeling beside him, trying to help him stand up. But he can’t. His face is pale, his breaths shallow. The medics rush onto the pitch, and I hear the stretcher being called in.
“That can’t be good,” I hear Aly mutter as we all watch him being placed onto the stretcher and moved off the pitch into the school.
“I think I heard his ankle snap from all the here,” one of the people behind me whisper.
He’s going to be okay. He will.
My legs start to move on their own, and before I know it, I’m running down the steps, past the crowd, straight into the school.
The door is ajar and once I open it fully, I see Aaron is sitting up against the wall, his head back, his face drawn in pain.
“Oh my God, Aaron,” I say, my voice shaking.
His head turns slowly, and he meets my gaze, his expression filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“How could I not check up on you after that?” I approach him cautiously, my heart racing.
Despite the pain, a smile tugs at his lips, weak but genuine. “And you say I’m the sweet one, huh?” He leans forward and tucks a stray curl behind my ear.
“How’s your ankle? Will you be okay?” I ask, my worry deepening.
“Yeah,” he says, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’m about to get back on the pitch right now.”
But his words sound hollow, and I know he’s not fooling anyone. Before I can respond, the doctor enters, file in hand, followed by a nurse.
“No, you won’t,” she says firmly, crossing the room with a look of concern. “You hit your head when you landed, and it seems like you may have fractured your ankle.
“What?” Aaron mumbles, the color draining from his face. Oh, no.
“Aaron, you’re not going back out there,” the doctor continues. “An ambulance is on its way so you can take an X-ray at the hospital. Your father will meet you there, don’t worry.”
Aaron’s hands tighten into fists, his body tensing with frustration. “Hospital? I don’t need to go to the bloody hospital, Doc.”
“Mr. O’connor, you can’t walk on that ankle,” she sighs. “Besides, this is school procedure. We had to call the ambulance.”
But Aaron’s not listening. He’s already spiralling, his mind consumed with thoughts of the match he’s losing. I can tell. The scouts. His future. The injury that’s standing in his way.
“Also,” she turns to me, a stern look on her face, “you can’t be in here, young lady.”
“Yes, she can,” Aaron quickly replies, not giving me a chance.
“My dad is Coach Castro,” I tell her. “He asked me to check up on him.”
The nurse, who I’ve seen over the years due to headaches and what-not, recognises me. She whispers something into the doctor’s ear and I’m assuming it’s to confirm what I’ve said because the next thing to come out of her mouth is an apology. But before I can even reply, her phone goes off and she leaves the room with the nurse following behind her.
I turn my attention back onto Aaron. His head is down and his hands are gripping onto the edge of the bed so hard that his knuckles are turning white.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “Fuck!”
I step forward instinctively, my heart breaking for him. “Hey,” I say softly, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek, forcing him to look at me.
“This was my chance, Carmen,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice breaking. “Scouts are here, and I can’t even play for the rest of the fucking game.”
I swallow hard, my own emotions bubbling up. “Do you not remember that goal?” I mutter. “Any scout would be stupid not to offer you a deal after that.”
But he shakes his head, his expression filled with self-doubt. “It doesn’t matter, Carmen. Who knows when I’ll be able to play again? Royal United starts in two months and I need to be ready by then.”
“You’ve got this, Aaron,” I tell him, my voice softer now, a reassuring smile curving my lips even as my chest aches for him.
For a moment, something shifts in his expression. The frustration that’s been written all over his face since the injury eases just slightly, and before I can process it, he leans his head onto my shoulder.
His weight is solid, grounding. The warmth of him seeps into me, but so does the heaviness-the unspoken fear, the anger, the helplessness. I can feel all of it pressing into me, and I don’t know how to take it away. I don’t know how to make this better.
“I know you do,” I whisper, barely audible.
His breathing slows, muscles loosening as the tension starts to slip from him. But then he exhales sharply. “Fuck.” His voice is tight. “This headache is killing me.”
My stomach twists. A headache.
Aaron hit his head.
Panic grips me, and I take a quick step back. “Aaron, you hit your head. What if you have a concussion?”
“I don’t have a concussion, Blondie,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
I shake my head, already turning toward the door. “I need to get the doctor-“
Before I can move an inch further, his fingers wrap around my wrist, cold and desperate.
He tugs me back, not forcefully, but enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Can you stay?” His voice is raspy, stripped bare.
My chest tightens. “But-“
“Please.”
That one word. It holds something I’ve never heard from him before. Something raw. Something scared.
I hesitate. I shouldn’t. I should get the doctor, tell someone, do anything but stand here pretending like his injuries don’t terrify me. But I don’t move. And when he realizes I’m not leaving, he exhales in relief and rests his head against my shoulder once again.
The room is quiet except for the sound of his breathing, steadying, and calming. I don’t know how long we sit like this, but eventually, he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear-
“Carmen.”
I swallow. “Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
Something in me shatters. This boy-the same one who walks around like he’s invincible, the one who smirks at me like nothing in the world could ever touch him-is scared. And he’s letting me see it.
I close my eyes for half a second, steadying myself before I speak. “I’ll be there for you.” My voice is quiet but sure. “The whole recovery.”
His head lifts just enough for our eyes to meet. “You promise?” The vulnerability is evident, not just from his tone but by the way he’s looking at me.
I tighten my grip on his hand. “Promise.”
His fingers squeeze mine back, like he’s anchoring himself to me, and I let him. Because the truth is, I don’t want to let go either.
But just as I think he might be able to relax, I can hear the footsteps echoing throughout the hallway outside.
“Alright, kid,” the doctor says as she enters the room, her tone soft but firm. “Let’s help you get to the ambulance.”
Aaron looks at me, and I smile at him, trying to give him the reassurance he needs. But as they assist him up, his face is drawn with pain, and I can’t shake the fear that this injury might be more than just a setback.
“You’re a big one, aren’t ya?” the nurse laughs, clearly trying to lighten the mood. He chuckles but it’s weak and his smile doesn’t even try to reach his eyes. “You must be at least six feet tall.”
“Six three,” he corrects her, a playful hint in his tone.
“Gosh.”
Just as they step out of the room, he turns his head to look at me one more time. “It’ll be okay,” I mouth to him. The look on his face tells me everything I need to know. He’s not convinced.
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