We Are Infinite

f o u r

k a d e  /  f o u r

I wake up on Saturday morning with a raging hangover. I rake my fingers through my hair, blinking in the cold grey light from the dark skies outside. It feels like a million elephants are stampeding through my head, and I groan out loud.

This is the usual way most of my Saturday mornings begin, but it's been a while that I've let myself drink so much to get this much of a hangover.

The musty scent of my bedroom fills my nose, and I sit up in bed, grabbing my phone. The clock tells me it's already half eleven, and I sigh. Dad must've already left for work, and Mom must be in the lounge or kitchen. Maybe I shouldn't be, but I am the slightest bit surprised that she hasn't come to wake me up. I run a hand through my hair again, my eyebrows furrowing into a frown as I notice that I've got quite a few notifications on my phone.

My eyes pass over the usual messages from group chats about last nights party, and then a notification from Instagram stops me in my tracks.

It's a DM notification, and contains three simple alphabets.

"Wtf?"

I raise an eyebrow to myself as I tap onto the profile, not recognizing the name. Mia Lynch. The display picture shows an silhouette image of a girl standing in front of the ocean, but as the account is private, I'm unable to see much else.

I request to follow her after deciding to reply to her DM. The whole tone of those three alphabets . . . I shake my head to myself, laughing. Sounds like someone's got anger issues.

Maybe she's got the wrong person, though? I'm pretty sure I don't know a Mia Lynch.

As I'm typing out a reply to her, I get a message from the schools soccer coach, asking to be in school in an hour for an impromptu practice session. I sigh to myself. So much for thinking I'd have a free Saturday.

I get ready, throwing on a pair of shorts and a soccer shirt, before grabbing my phone and an extra pair of clothes. Throwing it all in a gym bag, I head outside.

Once I reach school, I park my car next to Coach Hobbs', who is the only other person here at school. I frown, wondering if the other guys are late. However, when I walk into the school's soccer field, Coach calls me over to the bleachers. He's standing alone, and when I ask him where's the rest of the team, he tells me that they're not coming.

"Look, Ryder. I only called you here today. We're playing against Greytown High in two weeks, and you're my best striker. We need this win, you know that."

I let out a breath, "There's something I should say, Coach. You know I'm only on the team because-" And then I stop, and feel stupid. I've already said too much.

"Because?" Coach tilts his head, and I shake his concern away.

"Nothing." I make up my mind in an instant, thinking that if Albert Einstein High is crowned champions this season, maybe Dad will be off my back about this whole soccer thing.

Coach Hobbs goes on to talk about determination and focus, and when he finishes talking, I give him a firm nod. "Yes, Coach. I'll be sure to focus on this. And I'll talk to the team first thing Monday morning."

"Thanks, Kade. I knew I could count on you." I nod again, not trusting myself to say anything, but Coach Hobbs speaks again. "If you . . . ever need to talk about something, get it off your back, I hope you know I'm here." He then adds, "Also, Ryder. Watch out for the other Kade. Kade Lawson . . . he's Greytown's best striker and all-time lead scorer in general."

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