Clarity dissolved the rest of my daze, allowing Vincent’s words to fully sink in. “She’s moping around?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Out of everything I said, that was your takeaway? And yes, she is, unfortunately, moping.”
My heart skipped a beat. I hated the thought of Scarlett being sad, but moping was good. Moping meant she hadn’t moved on.
Our issue wasn’t a lack of feelings for each other, but Vincent’s confirmation was the fuel I needed.
“You know, you could’ve saved half your speech,” I told him. “My father was just here. He also told me to get off my ass and fight, so you’re a little late with that.”
Vincent frowned. “Seriously? I have more to say. I rehearsed on the ride here.”
“Save it. I got the message.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good then.” He looked uncertain now that his original plan had been thwarted. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
My mind spun as it formed and discarded dozens of strategies.
I had to prove to Scarlett that I wasn’t the same reckless hothead who’d raced Bocci that night.
In order to do that, I needed to take concrete action. Do something that would highlight how serious I was about changing. What can I…
My heart stopped for a second before it kicked into double time.
I got it.
“I have a plan,” I said in response to Vincent’s question. “But I need the team’s help.”
The next afternoon, the entire Blackcastle football club piled into my house for an “unofficial team meeting.”
They bitched and moaned about the last-minute summons, the long drive, and the imposition on their day off, but every single member showed up.
An embarrassing twinge of emotion scoured my throat as I surveyed the crowded living room. I would never say it aloud because they’d give me never-ending shit about it, but the fact they were giving up part of their Sunday for me when I hadn’t given them any details about this meeting’s topic meant a hell of a lot.
One of the things I loved most about football was the brotherhood. I’d lost that after I left Holchester, but I was tentatively hopeful that I’d found it again.
“So what’s this mystery meeting about?” Samson asked, stretching his arms and legs with a yawn. “It better be something good. I’m missing a Sunday roast for this.”
“Are we finally starting our book club?” Adil straightened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wilma Pebbles has a new book coming out soon. It should be our featured read.”
Ever since he read that Triceratops book, he’d been obsessed with Wilma Pebbles.
The rest of the team laughed and jeered, though several members looked intrigued. Stevens tossed a throw pillow at him. Adil easily caught it.
“Don’t forget you all agreed to join the book club,” he reminded them. “I’m adding everyone to the group chat once I’ve sorted out the logistics.”
“You mean you haven’t sorted them out yet?” Gallagher snorted. “What kind of club admin are you?”
“The kind who’ll put you on cleanup duty if you don’t show me more respect.”
“Yeah? I’d like to see you enforce that rule—hey! Watch the hair!” Gallagher protested when Adil threw the pillow at him.
Beside me, Vincent rubbed his temple and shook his head.
This was why I didn’t want to be team captain. Corralling a group of footballers was harder than herding a litter of hyperactive puppies.
“This is not a book club meeting,” he said. “This is a strategy meeting. It has to do with our newest team member.”
The other players quieted, their eyes roving between us with open curiosity. They were still getting used to Vincent and me working together instead of arguing, but they were fully on board with the new dynamic. Last season’s tension hadn’t been fun for anyone.
“Did you two finally kiss and make up?” Elliott, a midfielder, called from his seat next to the fireplace. “Are our parents not divorced anymore?”
Laughter erupted around the room.
“Excuse me.” Vincent looked insulted. “I’ve been your captain for years. He only transferred in this year.” He jerked his thumb at me. “We are not on the same level. There’s only one parent here, and it’s me.”
“Sure,” I said. “You can be the annoying parent. I’ll be the fun older brother.”
He glared at me, but the expression lacked heat. “Are you going to continue taking the piss, or are you going to explain to everyone why they’re here?”
Right. As much as I enjoyed humbling his ego, we had more important matters to discuss.
I faced the team again. “First, before we get to the reason why we’re all here, I want to apologize,” I said. The sentiment had been weighing on me for a while, and I needed to get it off my chest. “I know things have been difficult for various reasons since I joined the club. Some of it is due to external circumstances, but some of it is because of me. Because of my temper, my recklessness—”
“Your huge ego,” Vincent said.
“My pride,” I said, ignoring him. “All of these things have contributed to a tumultuous start to the season. I dragged you guys into my fight with Holchester when I shouldn’t have, and now we’re all paying for it.”
