"Morning, Professor," Bastian grunted. He did not sound happy.
"Morning, Bastian. You okay?" Alex asked, walking to his locker, number 38.
"No," Bastian grumbled. He tried to touch his toes. "I am... stiff. The Hurricane. It is too fast. You made me run too much."
Alex just grinned.
Harry, the captain, walked in. He was holding a stack of newspapers. He had a huge smile on his face.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Harry beamed. He slapped a paper down on the bench.
Alex looked. His own face was on the back page.
It was the picture of him, pointing, just before the pass to Mark. Next to it was a picture of Antoine, celebrating. And a picture of Mark, roaring.
The headline was huge.
THE HURRICANE. ARSENALS NEW WEAPON.
"The Hurricane," Harry said, tapping the picture. "I like it. You are not just a Professor anymore, Alex. You are a weather event."
"I am just... a kid," Alex said, his face getting very hot.
"You are a kid who just won us three points," Harry laughed.
