complete opposite of Dan’s. The pale blue of his eyes darkens and he stares between me and Dan then stops. He stops walking inside, stops listening to a player who was talking to him.
He just… stops.
Everyone ceases to exist as his gaze focuses on me and me alone.
A strange awareness grips me by the gut at the strange, destabilising look in his eyes and his stiff posture. My air turns suffocating as if he were able to suck it all away from this distance.
The moment ends when another player slams his shoulder into Levi’s. Number Nineteen, Knight. Levi winces, breaking eye contact, and lets his teammate lead him inside.
I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and trudge back to my place on the benches.
My fingers tremble as I gather my sketchpad and stare at Levi’s silhouette. My cheeks heat and my insides feel like a jumbled mess.
What in the ever living hell was that all about?
He didn’t touch me, but I can still feel his fingertips all over my skin and somewhere deep inside me.
I continue sketching as rock music fills the stadium.
I tell myself that I’m finishing the game only because Dan needs moral support.
That’s all.
A chubby girl with cute braids sits beside me before the second half starts. Her eyes spark with something similar to both excitement and fear.
“Oh, sorry,” she says as if only just noticing me. “Is this seat taken?”
I smile. “No, help yourself.”
“Thanks!” She retrieves a bar of chocolate and offers me some. “I’m supposed to not eat these at night. Don’t tell my mum or my nutritionist — or anyone for that matter.”
I laugh, accepting a small bar. “My lips are sealed.”
“I’m Kimberly. Second-year.” She offers. “You’re Clifford, right?”
“Just Astrid is fine.”
“So, Astrid, I’m not used to seeing you at the school games. Do you come often?”
“This is my first game.”
“Oh.” She pauses. “Oooh. You have to know what you’re missing out on.”
Kimberly spends the next ten minutes trying to shove as many football terms into my head as possible.
“I’m not a big fan either, but I like to come to watch sometimes.” There’s a dreamy tone in her voice. “My best friend is a fanatic fan of the Premier League, but she never comes to the school’s games.”
“Why not?”
She lifts a shoulder. “She hates them, I guess.”
“Here they come!!” Someone screams from behind us. “Go, Elites!”
Like in the first half, the music comes to a halt and everyone stands up. Kimberly and I follow.
As the second half begins, I can’t help noticing that there’s something different about Levi. While Aiden and the others play relaxed, he’s tense. His shoulders are tight and his instructions are more curt than in the first half.
“I wonder what’s the captain’s beef,” Kimberly says.
So I’m not the only one who notices it.
“He doesn’t usually play like that, right?”
She shakes her head. “He’s always cool and confident. He’s the captain after all.”
“So he’s like a good player?”
“Good?” She laughs. “Try perfect. He’s the best player we have and the top centre midfielder in the schools’ championship. We’re talking Premier League level here.”
We’re interrupted by the crowd’s cheers because of a triple play from Cole to Xander and then back to Cole and straight to Aiden. He scores.
A roar grips the crowd and everyone screams — Kimberly included. All the other players attack Aiden, tackling him to the ground and ruffling his hair.
All except for Levi.
He only high-fives his cousin and returns to the starting point at the middle of the pitch.
It’s then I notice the defect in his posture. His left shoulder is slightly drooping downwards.
My eyes widen. It’s the same shoulder he slammed into Jerry last night.
For the remainder of the game, the four ‘horsemen’ take possession of the field. Aiden, Xander, Cole, and Ronan seem comfortable in their own skin and the crowd goes rampant whenever they touch the ball.
Levi returns to the backlines a lot. According to Kimberly, it’s for defence purposes since they’re only one score ahead.
“Does Levi play like this sometimes?” I ask Kimberly.
“Captain? Never.” Although Kimberly is talking about King, her eyes never leave number nineteen, Xander Knight. “He’ll be scouted by the Premier League. This is his worst performance in years.”
“Wait. He wants to play professionally?”
She lifts a shoulder. “That’s what I heard. They scouted him since the second year but I guess he wants to finish school first... oh my gosh, yes! Do it!”
My muscles lock when Levi runs towards the goal with Aiden to his right. The