Bloodsport

chapter 65

“Oh, Harry!” Mrs. Madden called out across the distance. She waved him over, Mr. Cooper smiling as Harry slowly approached. The boy in green retreated, and Mrs. Madden said, “Well done, Aaron. Looking forward to seeing you soon.” He thanked her and retired without looking at Harry, who came to a stop with a wobbly smile. “Harry,” she said, her smile kind. “Beautiful penalty. Gorgeous.”

“Nice spin,” added Mr. Cooper.

He shrugged. “We didn’t win. Unfortunately.”

Mr. Cooper nodded. “It was a good match. Someone always has to lose these things. Good job on the pitch, though.”

“Thank you. My team’s… brilliant.” He swallowed, and his throat felt tight at the thought of leaving them. His boys. “Louis, er, twenty-eight, he’s… You don’t know what it’s like playing with him. He’s like magic out there, and without him…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say, or if anything he did say even mattered.

“He was very good,” agreed Mrs. Madden. She glanced at Mr. Cooper and then at her watch. “Thank you for tonight, Harry. It’ll be great seeing you in Manchester this summer.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks for watching.”

He left, got into his Rover, and drove home. There, walking into the kitchen, he found his mother and father trying very desperately to hide a “Congratulations On The Win” cake. Harry stopped on the threshold and watched them hiss and shush each other. As he looked on, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You guys…” He shook his head, wiping his forehead with his hand. He felt utterly exhausted and they were… Jesus.

His mum stopped her antics, and his father sighed and gave up. He shook his head. “Sorry,” he huffed in what sounded sort of like a laugh.

Harry exhaled another chuckle. “At least you thought I’d win.”

His mother released a short, unexpected laugh, and then his father was cackling. Meanwhile, Harry shook his head, but found himself grinning tiredly at them. Christ, but he allowed himself a laugh, too. It felt oddly good.

He couldn’t believe the three of them were standing there, despite everything, laughing after he’d just lost the most important football match of the season.

“Should we just eat it?” he said after a while. His parents shrugged, and for the first time in what felt like two years, they sat in complete comfort at the kitchen table. Eating cake.

Harry hoped Louis was being surrounded by his family tonight. He hoped he was okay.

                                 *

Days passed after the match. They had exams that week, but other than those, there wasn’t any point to be at school. Harry hardly showed when he didn’t have to.
Facing the boys on Monday after the match was difficult. They nodded at each other in the hallways, but none of them were ready to move forward yet. Harry wasn’t ready to accept that he was leaving them. He wasn’t ready to accept that next season he’d be playing with a whole different team, with lads he didn’t know like the back of his hand. He already missed them. Almost as much as he already missed Louis.

Harry was leaving. He still had a vague hope that Louis could get in at Manchester, but it was fading rapidly. By now, they had to have decided if they were taking on more non-academy players. However, there were also other academies than Manchester, and Harry was certain other clubs could want Louis if he just tried to approach them. Coach could help him.

Every day, Harry considered it as if it were his own life, but it wasn’t. It was Louis’. And no matter what happened to his football career, Harry was still leaving. He was going to Manchester. Picturing it, leaving Doncaster behind and finally running away from the things that no longer existed — Jasmine’s threats, an enemy of a co-captain, his family — he already knew there was only one thing he’d regret.