St. Ivy Soccer Grounds – After School
"Alright, warmups! Three laps, stretch, and partner drills!" Rei Nakamura's voice rang across the field like a general preparing for war.
I hadn't expected to be this involved.
I was just here as backup.
Just here to "observe."
Just here to maybe jog around a little and high-five Tyler.
But the moment Rei spotted me near the bench?
"Markov! You're in. Partner with Tyler for drills."
"Wait—what happened to observing?"
"You're sub. You train. That's the deal."
Tyler jogged over with a massive grin. "Look at you. Our golden retriever in cleats."
"I hate everything," I muttered, tying my shoes.
Thirty Minutes In – Practice Gets Serious
I wasn't bad.
Years of private training, ridiculous tutors, and that one guy who tried to teach me "combat football" in the mountains had left me decently athletic.
I could pass. Dribble. Sprint.
And when I nailed a clean shot into the top corner of the net during shooting drills?
Even Rei raised an eyebrow.
"Why aren't you on the actual team?"
"I have commitment issues," I panted.
The Girls on the Sidelines Were Not Subtle
By mid-practice, a group of first-years had gathered near the bleachers.
Not just watching. Staring.
"Is that Jay? He's playing?"
"Why is he so good at everything?"
"Look at his hair. It's sweaty but perfect."
"Wait, is he taking off his shirt—OHMYGOD."
To be clear: I only peeled off my practice jersey because it was drenched. The tank I had underneath wasn't much better, but I was dying under the sun.
And the second that tank clung to my back?
I heard someone squeak.
Break Time – Water Bottles, Tension, Trouble
Tyler tossed me a bottle and flopped onto the bench. "Bro, you're breaking the school."
"I'm hydrating."
"You're hydrating seductively."
I wiped my face with a towel and looked around.
That's when I saw her—Sofia, casually leaning against the railing like a drama club villain. Her phone was out. She was recording in slow-mo.
"You planning a thirst trap edit?" I called.
She didn't even blink. "Already done."
A minute later, she was walking over with a second bottle of water and a wicked grin.
"Thought you might need another," she said sweetly.
I reached for it—our fingers touched.
Just barely.
But her eyes locked with mine for half a second too long.
"…You're dangerous," I murmured.
"You're sweaty," she replied.
I cracked the bottle open and took a long drink.
And immediately regretted it—because halfway through, Sofia's eyes never left my lips.
Then she leaned in and whispered, "Bet you're not just good with your feet."
"Hey!" Tyler shouted from the bench. "There are kids here!"
Back to the Field – Jealousy in the Grass
When practice resumed, I could feel it.
Eyes.
Not just from the girls.
From the team.
From Rei.
Miles hadn't said anything for most of practice.
But I could feel the weight of his stare. The tightness in his movements. The way his jaw clenched whenever Rei complimented one of my passes.
When we wrapped up drills, the team broke off to stretch—but Miles?
He walked past me slow. Just enough for his words to land without looking.
"Enjoy the attention while it lasts, prince."
I blinked. "I'm not trying."
"That's the problem."
And just like that, he was gone.
Tyler called me over for cooldowns, joking about protein shakes and bicep gains. Sofia was already uploading something suspicious to her story with the caption:
"Jay Markov: Benchwarmer or Backfield God?"
And in the background, somewhere between the noise, the sweat, the cheering girls, and the suffocating sun...
I couldn't stop thinking—
Maybe being backup wasn't going to stay backup for long.