The locker room in Los Angeles was quiet. The win against Brentford had settled the nerves, but the adrenaline was still pumping through Alex's veins.
He sat on the bench, untying his boots.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his head. It wasn't a headache. It was like a flash drive being plugged into his brain.
Zzzzt.
Images flooded his mind.
Not just memories. Everything.
He saw the tactics board from a game he played as Danein Blake in 2005. He saw the exact blade of grass where he missed a penalty in the academy as Leon. He saw the spin of the ball on every free kick he had ever taken.
He saw the math homework he did last week. He saw the menu of a pizza place in Rome from three years ago.
He remembered the name of the referee in a U12 match. (It was Mr. Jenkins, and he smelled like peppermint).
Alex gasped. He grabbed his head.
"Alex?" Mark asked, dropping his taco. "Is your brain rebooting? Do you need a restart button?"
"I remember," Alex whispered. "Everything."
