Wednesday evening felt very strange.
At six o'clock, Ethan should have been on a bus, his muscles buzzing with pre-match tension, and his mind focused on the tactics for their cup-tie. Instead, he sat at his kitchen table in a comfortable hoodie, having already finished his homework. He had followed the new study plan Mr. Davies set out, and for the first time, the work felt manageable, not overwhelming.
But the quiet made him uneasy. He felt a deep sense of guilt, a nagging thought telling him he was letting his team down. He kept checking his phone, waiting for news from the game.
"You're going to wear a hole in that screen," his mum said, placing a steaming plate of food in front of him. "Coach said to rest. That includes your brain. Eat."
He put his phone down and began to eat, realizing just how hungry he was. It was the first meal he had all week that wasn't rushed. Just as he was finishing, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Mason.
HT. 1-0 up. Jake scored on a corner. Stop worrying, you idiot. Rest.
Ethan exhaled, relieved. They were fine. They were winning without him. The guilt started to fade, replaced by a simple, deep exhaustion. He went to bed at nine o'clock and, for the first time in months, slept soundly through the night.
When he woke up on Thursday, the world felt different. The fog in his head had lifted. His legs didn't feel like stone; they felt like his legs again.
He walked onto the training pitch that evening feeling lighter. The team, fresh off a 2-0 cup victory, was in high spirits. "Look who it is!" Callum shouted, jogging over. "Nice holiday? We missed you, mate, but don't get too comfortable. My new partnership with the winger is looking pretty good." "Glad you could handle it without me," Ethan joked, falling into step beside him.
The session was eye-opening. His touch was sharp. His passes, which had been heavy and predictable against Westford, were quick and creative. He saw the game with his usual clarity, the field opening up in front of him, his connection with Callum and Mason natural and immediate. He wasn't just playing; he was enjoying it again.
Coach Shaw watched from the sideline with his arms crossed. After one particularly sharp drill where Ethan split the defense with a perfect through ball, the coach gave a single, sharp nod. He didn't say a word, but the message was clear: Welcome back.
On Saturday morning, they gathered in the changing room for their league match against Greenford. The anxiety Ethan felt before the Westford game was gone, replaced by a clear, sharp focus. He wasn't worried about his history homework or the scout in the stands. He was just thinking about the game.
Coach Shaw stood before the team. "Well done on Wednesday. You showed you're not a one-man team. Today, we build on that." He picked up the whiteboard and began to write. "Starting XI... Matthews, you're back in. I want my number ten. Let's go."
Ethan finished lacing his boots, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. He felt strong. He felt focused. He felt like himself again.e