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Ronan enlisted in soccer the first time his father deemed him fit enough to run around and kick a ball. It was the same way with Declan and Matthew too. The Lynch family was a family of soccer players.

There were photos all over the Barns, signed photos of footballers from Ireland, and some photos that were aged and looked from the 1970s of Niall and his brothers playing back at home in Belfast. Hell, Niall had even trekked the whole family to Ireland to watch when they made it to the World Cup in 2002. Ronan still had the Viking hat with the Irish flag colors from that visit in his closet somewhere.  

So it seemed only like destiny when Ronan tried out, because all players had to go through tryouts, and made it onto the Aglionby varsity soccer team his freshman year. Declan had made it his freshman year, the year before. And no doubt Matthew was destined for the same thing when he enters Aglionby as well.

Freshman year wasn’t anything to behold. Even though Ronan knew he was a better player than some of his teammates, he was still a benchwarmer because he was fresh meat. But he had a fire, and an itch to be on the field running around with the ball between his feet. He wanted to feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins in the heat of the game.

Ronan wasn’t all that familiar with how leagues and divisions were sorted out, but he was surprised to find Aglionby playing a local public school. Shawnee High School was one of the two public schools in Henrietta. Ronan didn’t know much about them, and he didn’t care either.

The team was surprisingly holding their own pretty well against Aglionby. Ronan thought this would be a sweep and an easy win, but it was tied 1-1. There was one player that specifically stood out to Ronan. He was on the shorter side, and he wore the number five on the hideously green and yellow uniform. The boy was a striker, and he seemed to move like he was floating on the air. He had fancy footwork, one that only a really talented player could use, and he seemed to analyze each pass and move he made. Ronan was mesmerized by him.

He watched as number five, managed a quick jab between Ryan Johnston’s legs, and a breakaway occurred. In slow motion, the boy pushed the ball forward, and he ran in with a kick that echoed in Ronan’s ears as it went arching through the sky and into the corner of the net, bringing Shawnee up a point.

The team erupted into shouts and cheers as they all swamped number five with high fives and fist bumps as they made their way back to the midfield line. Ronan looked over next to him on the bench.

“Who is that guy?” Ronan asked, more rhetorically. He didn’t expect Connor Murray to know.

“I have no idea, but he’s gotta be the best player in Henrietta or something. No one can get passed Johnston like that.”  

“Middle Lynch!” Coach Stafford called out.

Ronan immediately stood up and yanked his hoodie off his body. He walked up to Coach Stafford who was red in the face. Ronan couldn’t tell if it was anger, or embarrassment that some public school kid got through his defense and scored a perfect goal. He found himself amused, and a little inspired by number five. Anyone who could make Coach Stafford angry was a winner in Ronan’s book. He hated this guy.

“Sir?” Ronan asked.

“You’re going in for Holloway.”

Ronan was confused. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Holloway? He’s right midfield.”

Midfield was not a position he played very much. He wasn’t very good at it, and frankly, he hated playing a position that made him do offense and defense. He was a striker, he belonged on the offense.

“You’re covering that number five. He’s not getting another goal in,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Knock him down a few times if you must.”  

Ronan’s face twisted in distaste, but he didn’t say anything. The referee blew the whistle to allow the substitution to be made and he ran onto the field. A moment later, the game was back in play.

As the game progressed, he noticed the other team always seemed to find opportunities to pass to number five. He was obviously their star player, and the one they relied on the most. When he had the ball between his feet, it was like watching a magician do a magic trick. But Ronan knew the secrets, and he managed to grab the ball before he could get further into Ronan’s territory. Ronan could see the frustration building in his face every time he lost possession.

“Ronan! Give him a chase!” he heard his father’s loud voice from the bleachers.

“Lynch! Get him now!” Coach Stafford added from the sideline.

Number five was running up the middle, doing his fancy footwork. Ronan sprinted down the field and slid underneath the boy to kick the ball out. He was successful in doing so, but he heard a sickening scream come out of the boy’s mouth as he crumpled to the ground.

Ronan was immediately snapped out of the zone and saw the boy clutching his leg to his chest. He could see the blood seeping through the yellow sock. His freckled face was pinched in pain, and he was taking ragged breaths. The referee blew the whistle in a timeout, and the opposing team’s coach came jogging out into the field. Ronan knelt down next to him.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.

His blue eyes opened up in a glare that could kill him. “Who the fuck wears metal cleats you asshole,” he growled out before wincing in pain. He had a thick southern drawl in his voice, elongating all his words.

Ronan stood up and took a knee like the other players. The medical trainer seemed to be doing the bare minimum for him. Asking general questions and looking to be bored by this, like he couldn’t bother with a public school player. Ronan felt anger pooling in his chest.

“It seems that the cut will require a few stitches, and he will have to escorted from the game and to the hospital.”

“No,” number five gasped out. “It’s okay.”

His coach who seemed immensely worried helped him up. “Are you sure? This seems dire.”

“I said it’s fine. Don’t worry,” he insisted.

He hobbled off the field, and out of courtesy everyone clapped for him and rose from their knees. Ronan went back into position, and Coach Stafford came up to the line and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“That’s what I’m talking about kid. Now go get ‘em,” he said with a cheerful tone.

With their star player out of commission, Shawnee’s dynamic seemed to crumble. Aglionby ended up winning the game 7-2.

When Ronan met Adam Parrish just over a year later, he almost didn’t recognize him. For starters, he was significantly taller than the last time he’d seen him. On the soccer field that day, he was easily 5’1”. Now he was a whole foot taller. His hair was more shaggy, and on the longer side like he hadn’t had a haircut in a while. But he’d recognize those blue eyes and freckles anywhere.

Gansey had sat the three of them together at a table outside the dining hall during their lunch period. It was a mild day in September, during the first week of school. Gansey looked delighted at their new addition.

“Ronan, I’d like you to meet a Mr. Adam Parrish. He helped me start the Pig up this morning when she failed me on the side of the road,” Gansey introduced.

Adam tentatively sat down next to Gansey. He gave a curt head nod and didn’t say anything. He looked uncomfortable. Ronan sneered at him and bit into his sandwich roughly. Gansey looked on the edge of chastising him for his reaction. But Ronan would beat him to the punch.

“We’ve met,” he said with his mouth full.

Both Adam and Gansey had similar confused looks on their faces. Adam tilted his head to the side a little.

“I think I’d remember if I’ve met you.”

His accent was hidden behind a flatness. His words were precise and short as possible. Ronan arched an eyebrow. He shrugged his shoulders and grunted.

“You played soccer for Shawnee Public,” he stated.

Adam went rigid at the mention of the public school. He stood up straighter, and he closed himself off. Ronan could feel the ice coming off of him. It made him smirk as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“How did you know that?” he hissed out glaring at Ronan. His eyes kept darting back to Gansey as if he was scared of people knowing.

Ronan leaned in and crumpled the tinfoil into a tiny ball. He tossed it in Adam’s direction who pulled away from it. He gave a sharp smile showing all his teeth.

“You called me an asshole with metal cleats.”

His blue eyes widened and a sneer formed on his face. But Ronan had already walked away before Adam could get his word in.      

Adam did not like Ronan Lynch. For starters he had problems with him regarding the injury he gave Adam that put him out of commission for the entire season last year. Because of those cleats, and fear of his father and the bill they would get if he had gone to the hospital, Adam had to go home and hastily try and stitch the wound up himself. It had left a nasty scar on his right calf that was large and noticeable if he wore shorts.

But he was also an asshole. Adam was too, but Ronan was a different brand. The shaved head, and the tattoo that curled around the sides of his neck and shoulders when his uniform was undone in carelessness added to the reputation. He also knew where Adam had gone to school, and that was leverage. He made fun of his accent when it slipped out, or his rumbled second-hand uniform. Adam just thanked God that he didn’t know about his home life.

It was so much easier to pass off the bruises and cuts as soccer-related injuries. But now he had to come up with other excuses. Adam knew Ronan was guaranteed a spot on the soccer team. He was a great player from what Adam remembered. He just wished he would be able to try out too. But he didn’t have the courage or the skill to be on a team as good and prestigious as Aglionby’s. Soccer was their main sport. All the popular kids were on the team. Adam stood no chance, and it made his heart sink a little bit.

Adam stood outside his double-wide. It was Saturday, and he had a rare day off from work. His parents had also taken a spontaneous trip to West Virginia to visit distant relatives for the weekend leaving Adam totally alone. Adam almost wept in joy and relief when he had heard.

Gansey had asked Adam if he wanted to join him, Ronan and their other roommate Noah on a hike up one of the mountains. Adam liked Gansey’s company. He was the first and really only real friend Adam has ever had. So he had agreed, and after some fighting, he had also relented in allowing him to pick Adam up.

So Adam was waiting. The sun was high in the sky, and it was a hot day in September. He was sweating through his threadbare Coca-Cola t-shirt already. Next, to the trailer, he saw his old soccer ball in his hiding spot. He walked over to it and thrust his hands into his pockets. He dug it out with his foot and started to push it gently back and forth between his feet.

Adam felt a small smile form on his face. This was familiar to him, and something he loved. Soon he pushed the ball onto his left foot to balance and tossed it into the air and started juggling.

“One, two, three, four, five, six,” he counted aloud with each hit he made with a body part.  

He had made it to sixty-five when he dropped the ball. Adam could feel his heart pumping in his chest. He was relieved to see he still had some skill even though it had been over a year since he’d done anything like this.

Then he started to practice his footwork. That had always seemed to be his specialty. Adam pretended that he was back on the pitch trying to get his way through defenders. Going at a game speed, he ran up and did a quick rabona and shot the soccer ball against a wooden plank in his backyard. It made a loud sound as it ricocheted off and back to Adam’s feet.

Then he ran back and did a roulette twisting his body around the ball and kicking it forward. After he did something his old coach called a hocus-pocus move. It was Adam’s specialty move and was what gave him the nickname the magician on his old team.

After a while he stopped, satisfied that his muscles still remembered all the moves he had learned and tried so hard to perfect. Then he went back to juggling the ball, bouncing it off his feet, his chest, head, and thighs.

Just as Gansey and his Camaro pulled up, Adam reached a hundred juggles and he stopped the ball at his feet. He flashed a small smile up at Gansey before he kicked the worn out ball back into his hiding spot and jumped in the car.

“You got some moves with that soccer ball, Adam,” Gansey complimented as he pulled away from the trailer park.

Adam shrugged his shoulders and looked out the window as the dust and dirt became more lush and green.

“Nothing special. I do it just for fun,” he responded back in a smaller voice.

He turned his attention back to Ronan and Gansey. Adam almost didn’t notice Ronan in the passenger seat. The sharp boy turned around and looked down at Adam’s leg. Since it was so hot he was wearing cargo shorts, and his scar was on full display. Adam repositioned himself so it was hidden.

“You should try out for the team,” Ronan suggested out of the blue.

Adam was taken aback by the comment. He raised an eyebrow at Ronan and questioned whether he was joking or not. Adam wouldn’t put it above him to fuck around. He scoffed at the idea of trying out and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not good enough to be on a team like Aglionby’s,” he denounced.

“You were good enough to get through our defense and score a goal if I remember correctly,” Ronan challenged. He was looking at Adam through the rearview mirror, waiting for him to deny that too.

“And then I got decommissioned for the entire season after I got injured. I haven’t played in over a year.”

“You were the star player on your team. I watched you with that ball. You’re good enough,” Ronan insisted.

Adam didn’t know why he was trying to push him towards this. Ronan was never this nice to Adam. Not in the entire few weeks he’s known him.

“On a public school team. There were no tryouts at my school. We had enough funding to play teams within a twenty-minute carpool driving distance. Being the ‘star player’,” Adam emphasized using air quotes, “on a shitty public school team where basically a hundred percent of students are in poverty, and playing on a private school team with all the funding in the world, and where players are probably privately trained, are drastically different.”

It was silent for a few moments as both he and Ronan simmered in anger. Ronan let out a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Whatever, Parrish. Do what you want.”

It was silent for a few tense minutes. Adam went back to looking out the window of the backseat. Gansey cleared his throat.

“Noah will be meeting us at the rendezvous point, just so you all know,” he said to break the silence.

When Adam walked in through the doors of Aglionby on Monday, he didn’t expect to see a flyer taped to his locker. Confused as to why he was the only locker with something on it, he quickly ripped it off before anyone could notice.

He looked down at the piece of paper and scanned the contents. It was a flyer advertising the soccer tryouts this week. It was simple looking, black and white with all the dates and times written out in a standard font. But there was a phrase circled in red sharpie at the bottom.

Everyone is welcome to try out!

Adam immediately knew who this was from. He let out a growl and looked around the crowded hallway to see if Ronan was anywhere in sight. When he didn’t see him, Adam crumpled the piece of paper into a ball and threw it into the trash can. He slammed his locker open and roughly gathered the materials he needed for the first period and stormed away.

As the long school day went on, he couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid flyer that Ronan taped onto his locker. God, he wanted to go back to playing soccer so bad. Doing those practice moves outside his trailer had given him a sense of belonging again; a feeling he rarely lets himself feel.

He started to make a list of pros and cons in his head. If he decided to show his face, he’d draw more attention to himself, and probably get made fun of. But if he didn’t, he’d probably regret not trying. If he made the team by some stroke of luck, his day would become even more jam-packed than it already is with two jobs, and school work. But it would look good on college applications when the time came, and he’d be away from the trailer park more and away from his father’s fists. And if he didn’t make the team, then he’d be embarrassed, but he doesn’t have high expectations, to begin with so he wouldn’t lose much anyway.

Adam started to lean towards going. The tryouts were an hour after school let out, and it was all week. He didn’t have any mid-day shifts this week, them either being late at night or early in the morning before school starts. He’d be able to go to them if he wanted. But he had left all his equipment at home. He’d have to bike back and retrieve them.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ll go.

So as soon as the last bell of the day rang, he practically ran out of the building and biked with a speed down to the trailer park. It was still the middle of the day, so his father wasn’t home yet. He went inside the double-wide, and saw his mother was busy cooking a small meal for herself. When she heard him enter, she whipped around to face him. Her blue eyes were wide in shock but she let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s just you,” she softly said before going back to stirring whatever it was in the small pot on the stove.

Adam went into his little room. Everything was immaculate, nothing on the floor that his father could potential trip on. Things Adam had that he thought would get him in trouble were safely hidden in places his father wouldn’t think to look. He crawled down onto his hands and knees and reached an arm towards the back of his bed and grabbed a little black bag filled with his cleats and shin pads.

He quickly changed out of his uniform and into more appropriate clothes to run around in and walked out of his room.

“Don’t let your father see that junk,” his mother warned. Adam turned around to face her. She took a bite of the Kraft macaroni and cheese she’d made. She nodded her head towards the bag. “What’s in there anyway?”

“Soccer gear,” he answered back dutifully.

She shook her head and tsked at him. “Thought that injury would’ve kept you away. What are you doing with it?”

“Soccer tryouts,” he muttered.

“Don’t mumble,” she chastised. “You want to play for that fancy private school?” she wondered with a soft chuckle.   

That soft laugh almost made Adam walk back into his room and forget about the tryouts altogether.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She shrugged her shoulders and took another bite of her food. She eyed him in a rare form of humor. Even if it was directed at him. “Good luck with that.”

Adam all but ran out of the double wide. He glanced at his watch quickly before jumping on his bike and riding like the wind. By the time he made it back to Aglionby, tryouts were about to begin.

He felt a nervous pang hit him in the stomach. As he approached the soccer field, he saw the other boys practicing, playing little scrimmages of possession, and some pulling on their socks and cleats.

Adam walked up and dumped his little bag on the grass. A man who looked burly came up to Adam as he put on his shin guards.

“You here for tryouts kid?” he gruffly asked.

Adam stood up and nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

He looked him in his eyes and then brought his gaze back down. He heard the coach let out a humph as he handed a clipboard and a pen to Adam.

“Sign your name, year and position on here,” he commanded. Adam took the clipboard and quickly wrote his name, sophomore, and striker and handed it back to him.

The man who Adam deduced as the coach studied the piece of paper. He raised an eyebrow at Adam and narrowed his eyes. He felt very scrutinized under the gaze.

“Parrish, huh? You new to this school?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Transferred this year,” he told him.

He pointed a finger at him. “You look familiar kid. Where’d you transfer from? Woodbury? St. Albans?”

Adam felt his face flush with embarrassment as the coach started listing off other elite boarding schools. He was silent for a moment before softly shaking his head.

“No, sir. I transferred from Shawnee,” he said.

The coach looked surprised at the fact. He looked Adam up and down for a moment before pursing his lips together.

“A public school kid, eh? Well, Parrish, good luck.”

Adam felt shamed at the blatant dismissal. He held the same tone his mother did, and Adam sat down to lace up his cleats he felt himself simmering with anger. He wanted to prove this man wrong, and show he was worth it to be on this team. He is good enough.

Adam was pulled out of his thoughts when someone sat down next to him. He looked over and saw Ronan lacing up his fancy Nike’s that looked brand new. Adam looked at his own that were wearing down and had holes on the side.

“Didn’t think you’d show your face, Parrish,” he teased.

Adam glared at Ronan. He nodded his head towards the coach. “That guy's an asshole. I’m going to show him up.”

Ronan let out a bark of laughter that came bursting out or Ronan. He had a twinkle in his eye that showed the fierceness of Ronan Lynch.

“Please do. I fucking hate Stafford. What a dick.”

He stood up and patted Adam’s back. Adam had to hold himself from flinching at the contact. “Party time, Parrish. Show ‘em what you got.”

Adam had forgotten how much actual running was involved in playing soccer. Each day of tryouts had them running two-mile runs around the field as a group at the start. Thankfully, Adam had built his own endurance having to bike to and from school and work every day so he didn’t find it as difficult as he should’ve.

They did dribbling practices in groups, and worked on footwork and trapping the ball. All the skills needed to be an effective soccer player. Adam found them kind of boring, just going through the swift and easy motions.

During every water break, he’d watch Coach Stafford talk with the assistant coaches huddled together. He knew they were analyzing every person and their skills; Adam wanted to know what they said about him.

The players who had been on the team were amazing. Placing a soccer ball between their feet seemed to be second nature to them. Ronan was a sight to watch, and Adam was mesmerized by his moves and swiftness. He was talented. Adam figured all of them had been trained privately by professionals. No one mentioned anything to his face about his worn out cleats, and non-brand athletic wear, but he could feel the stares and whispers.

“Okay boys, we’re gonna end this week with a scrimmage. Shirts versus skins. Listen up for your names and positions,” Coach Stafford announced.

One by one boys stood up and went on their respective sides. The boys who were on skins took their shirts off and disregarded them on their belongings. Adam felt his cheeks heat up looking at all the toned bodies and forced himself to look away.

“Parrish! Shirts, and left striker,” he announced.

Adam felt a flood of relief wash through him at the fact he didn’t have to take his shirt off. There were some nasty bruises from his father he didn’t want to show the world under there. He stood next to the captain of the team, Declan, who was also Ronan’s older brother. Adam noticed how alike they looked.

“Middle Lynch! Skins, right midfield.”

Ronan rolled his eyes and yanked his shirt over his head and threw it on the sidelines. His pale skin was flushed red from the sun and from exercise and Adam had to look away. Once everyone was given a position they all went onto the pitch.

He walked up into the midfield circle next to the right striker, Eoin McKenzie. The whistle blew and he kicked the ball to Adam who immediately rushed forward into the defending half. He saw a player coming up to him and he analyzed the field looking for an open player. Ryan Knight raised his hand and Adam used the opportunity to kick the ball forward towards the right flank.

For a few minutes, it was just a game of possession between the two teams. Adam had gotten a few shots on goal but was always thwarted by the defense before he could aim right to get the ball in.

Adam raised his hand up at the half mark. The sweeper, Griffin Cortez saw Adam, and practically punted the ball right to Adam. He trapped it with his chest and down to his feet as he turned around to make a run.

He saw one of the defenders on the skins team, Tate Henson runs up to try and get the ball. Right before he could stick his foot out, Adam did the hocus pocus move and effectively made his way past Henson and towards the goalie box. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ronan running towards him, with a determined look on his face.

It sparked a memory in Adam. It was the same thing that had happened the first time he’d played against Ronan. He felt a phantom pain rush through his calf remembering the tear of flesh. It made Adam hesitate and falter losing control of the ball. He just watched as Ronan ran to him, and snatched the ball right from Adam’s feet which were now just standing still. As he ran back up to the midfield Adam still just watched as the memory replayed in his head. It was then Ronan scored the only goal in the game, and Coach Stafford blew the whistle ending it.

Adam walked back over to the sidelines running a hand through his hair and over his face. He felt shame and guilt run through him. It was his fault that his team lost the scrimmage. There was no way the team was going to take him after that fluke on the field.

He sat down and laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. He placed an arm over his face to block the sun. Adam heard some shifting next to him.

“Good game, Parrish,” Ronan’s voice came.

Adam let out a scoff and sat up to look at Ronan. He was still shirtless, and he could see the sweat clinging to his body. He was taking a giant sip of water from his humongous water jug. Adam dug around for his little Poland Spring bottle and sipped it.

“I cost us the game. Wouldn’t say that was very good,” he wryly remarked.

Ronan rolled his eyes dramatically. “You didn’t cost us the game.”

“I faltered right as I was in scoring position and just let you take the ball from me,” he countered.

“So what? We all fucking falter, because no one’s perfect. Not even Messi or Ronaldo have perfect games. You played great. You’re going to be on the team, Parrish.”

“Says who?” he questioned.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Says me. And Declan. And Stafford. And Collins. And Anderson.”

Adam made the team.

Adam never had this much attention given to him in his entire life. He was always cast aside as a secondary thought. He learned how to become invisible and small. Now, he was part of a team. They relied on each other to win games and be successful.

When he was given his uniform a few days after he had made the team, it was something he would never even dreamed about. It was brand new, and he had his lucky number of five, and his last name on the back of the jerseys. The home uniform was blue and black, with a blue jersey and black shorts, and the lettering white. The away uniform was white and blue stripes and white shorts. They were the nicest clothes Adam owned, and he made sure to tuck them away safe and sound from his parents. He lied to his mother when she asked how they went. He didn’t trust her not tell his father if he had told the truth.

They were halfway through the season, and it was an away game. They had to be ready to board the bus at two-thirty sharp. Adam had packed his away uniform in his backpack before he ran over to do a shift at the factory early this morning.

He had changed quickly in the bathroom so no one would see the bruises on his ribs and walked out to the front of the property. Some of the team was waiting there already, conversing with one another. He sat down on the stone wall and took out his trigonometry homework to start on.

As he finished calculating a problem and writing the solution he saw Ronan sit down next to him. Adam gave a quick smile and moved on to the next set of questions. Ronan leaned over to see what Adam was doing and pulled a face.

“Agh, I hate that fucking subject,” he sneered.

“You don’t like any subject except Latin,” Adam said snarkily.

“Shut up, Parrish,” Ronan bit back nudging him on the shoulder. Adam looked up and gave a side eye glare to Ronan, but it held no real heat.

He and Ronan had gotten closer over the past few weeks. It was probably because they spent every day together at practice, or at a game, or with Gansey and Noah. Adam didn’t find him as annoying as he once did. His original perception of Ronan slowly melted away. He could understand why Gansey and Noah liked his company so much.

“Are Gansey and Noah coming?” he asked Ronan as he did some mental calculations.

Ronan let out a grunt. “Yeah, and Gansey’s bringing that girl from Nino’s too. Some fucked up version of a date or something.”

Adam nodded and looked back up. “Yeah, I remember he mentioned something about her. Hope she likes soccer.”

“Well, now we have a show to put on. Can’t be losing this game and embarrassing Gansey like that. Since soccer and old Welsh kings seem to be the only two things he talks about to anyone. Gotta make Dad proud,” he said in a teasing voice.

Adam let out a small laugh, which in turn made Ronan smirk. “If we are losing you know Stafford will put me in. Seems like the only thing I’m useful for is setting scores even.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow at Adam and the smirk fell off his face. “That’s not true, Parrish. You’re one of the best players.”

“Best player who never makes the starting lineup. I only play games if the score is even, and staying that way, or if we’re losing. I’m the ‘secret weapon’ or whatever.”

“Parrish, are you serious right now?”

“Lynch, you must be blind or something. It’s true. Watch today, and see what happens. Stafford only cares about me because I can score goals. If I couldn’t do that, I’d be off the team faster than I can blink.”

The giant coach bus pulled up at that moment. Adam put his things back into his backpack and boarded with the rest of the team. Ronan then decided to sit next to Adam, but immediately put on his headphones and started playing his electronica music as Adam pulled out more homework to do before his night shift after the game.

The school they were playing against was St. Albans, which was at least an hour away. All week Coach Stafford had talked about how good this team was, but saying how Aglionby was better. He had been drilling their defense harder and doing more drills regarding possession and accuracy in passing.

After they had done their warm up on the field, Coach Stafford summoned them together again. He had his clipboard out.

“Okay boys, today’s captain is Oldest Lynch. Here’s the starting lineup.”

He named off all the eleven boys that would be starting and explaining the type of field they would be playing the game today. There were three forwards, four midfielders, and four defenders. A pretty standard lineup.

Once he dismissed them, Adam walked over to the bench and gave a look towards Ronan saying I told you so. Ronan rolled his eyes and ran up to his position as right forward. The other team was starting with the ball winning the toss-up.  The whistle blew and the game began.

Adam mostly watched on silently. He felt antsy sitting on the bench, and a little bit jealous at the players who were on the field. At the twenty-five minute mark, he subbed Knight out for Crosby. At the thirty-four minute mark, Declan came out and McKenzie went in. Soon the other benchwarmers were getting subbed in, and Adam was still sitting there waiting. Then right as halftime was about to be called, St. Albans scored a goal taking the lead.

“God fucking damn it!” Coach Stafford screamed pulling on his hair.

Adam felt down by the last minute goal, but watching Stafford lose his shit made Adam a little happy on the inside. The referee blew the two whistle call to signal halftime and the players jogged over to the sideline. Adam stood up to join the huddle with his arms crossed.

Coach Stafford looked livid. His face was as red as the uniforms the St. Albans team was wearing. His knuckles were white clutching the clipboard tightly. Adam saw the team was uneasy around him. Adam made sure to stay away from the coach and was on the other side and outside of the huddle.

“Listen up, boys. You can’t let a fucking mistake get past that defense like that! I’ve been drilling you all fucking week so this wouldn’t fucking happen! And look what happened! Cortez!” he shouted.

Cortez looked startled at being called out. His brown eyes widened. “Yes, sir?”

“What fucking happened? Go on. Tell me.”

He looked down at the ground. “We let a striker in and they scored.”

Coach Stafford thrust his hand in the direction of Cortez and looked around at the rest of the players. “Exactly. And our offense has been playing like shit. It’s time to wake the fuck up out there! Play like shit this half, and you’ll be running more suicides than you’ve ever done in your life. Drink up.”

The team went over to the bench and rested silently for the remainder of the halftime. When it was time to play, the lineup went back out. Declan was back in, and in the midfield circle with Ronan as they got ready to do kickoff. The whistle blew and the second half started.

The team seemed to take Coaches threat of suicides seriously as the game seemed to be more intense and the pace picked up. There was more passing, and they kept possession more than in the first half. Adam was still bitter he was sitting on the bench.

If he went in, Adam almost wanted to blow the game for him. Just to spite the coach, but he didn’t want to be on his bad side either. When he got angry, Coach Stafford reminded Adam a little too much of his father. As the half progressed it seemed that there was no progress being made to score goals. Ronan only had one shot on goal.

“Parrish,” Coach Stafford said gruffly.

Adam unzipped his thin jacket and stood up and walked over to the coach. “Sir?”

A thin smile formed on Coach Stafford’s face. He touched Adam’s shoulder, who swiftly removed himself from taking a step to the side. The coach didn’t say anything but gave him a quick look.

“You’re my A-bomb, Parrish. You’ll be going in for McKenzie. You better score some goals for me or else.”

His tone of voice was joking, but Adam could see he was serious. Adam felt a weight in his stomach but nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

Adam got subbed in, and the game continued. He was glad he could finally be on the pitch and play the game he loved. He stayed up top waiting for opportunities to come. It seemed that every time the midfield got possession, they couldn’t make it into the other half before getting the ball taken away by the opposing team. Adam and Ronan were practically rendered useless.

“Parrish! Go long!” Declan’s voice came.

Coach Stafford had put him down with the midfield, so there were only two forwards at the top. Adam started to sprint up the flank, and he had a St. Alban’s player trailing him. He could see Declan was going to kick the ball towards the center, so at the last moment Adam stopped short and changed direction throwing his attacker off balance. It was going too high, he wouldn’t be able to properly trap it.

“Ronan! Get ready!” Adam screamed. Ronan took the hint and as the ball arched down, Adam jumped up and headed the ball towards Ronan who trapped it with his chest and in a smooth motion pushed it forward with his foot.

Adam moved towards the goalie box, where Ronan pointed and crossed it to Adam who trapped it with his chest and kicked the ball hard before it even touched the ground and into the corner of the net.

Cheers erupted from the team and the supporters who came to watch the game. The soccer team had a following, which they called The Conspiracy, due to the mascot of Aglionby being ravens.

Ronan ran over to Adam and gave a fistbump to him with a smile. “Nice goal, Parrish. He didn’t stand a chance.”

“Thanks,” Adam said back with a smile of his own.

The game started again, and another ten minutes after Adam scored another goal giving Aglionby the lead. Once the game was over, Adam let out a sigh of relief as he walked over to the sideline. He had done his job on the team, and they won.

The regular season had ended, and with a 14-1 record, they had the top seat in the playoffs. Adam had never been so far on any team before, and he enjoyed the energy that surrounded the team. Everyone seemed to be in better spirits. Team dinners happened more often, Coach Stafford didn’t lose his temper as much. Things were going great.

Adam was in the locker room, getting ready for practice. He pulled on an old t-shirt and some shorts before putting on his shinguards and socks over. He heard footsteps echoing in the empty locker room, and saw three of his teammates walk up to him.

They were upperclassmen, and all of them were seniors. Adam stood up straight and gave a quick smile, but didn’t say anything to them as he laced up his cleats.

“We got a bone to pick with you, Parrish,” Ryan Johnston said.

Adam looked back up confused at the three seniors on the team. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “What’s that?”

“You think you’re hot shit just because you can score goals and move your feet?” Will Conway sneered.

“No, I-” Adam started still confused. He was broken off by a rough push from Will Conway. Adam stumbled from not expecting it over the bench and into the lockers. The three of them stalked up to Adam.

“I don’t what the fuck you did, but Coach Stafford thinks you’re the next Ronaldo or something,” Ryan Johnston said with bitterness. He punched Adam in the face.

Adam stunted and went into defense mode. He blocked his face and curled up smaller trying to brace the impact better. His voice disappeared from him. He felt another kick to his stomach and curled up more.

“You aren’t that good. And yet you still seem to be the shining star in Stafford’s eyes. It’s not fair to us seniors that a stupid, little sophomore trailer trash gets the attention,” Woodrow Bernard growled.

He felt himself be picked up by the collar of his shirt and he looked at Ryan Johnston’s smirking face. “So now, we’ll beat you to a pulp, and you’ll resign from the team so we can get the spotlight for playoffs. Capiche?”

Adam jerked his head. There was nothing he could do. Ryan Johnston dropped Adam and the three of them proceeded to kick and punch Adam until they dragged him to the side of the school to lay and wither before walking down to the field laughing away.

After what seemed like hours, but was just a half hour he found the strength to get up and clean all his wounds. Slowly he wiped stray tears that came out of his eyes and quickly wrote his letter to Coach Stafford and put it in his office before making his way home. He’d return the uniform in the morning.

Adam had been avoiding Ronan and Gansey for over a week. When Adam hadn’t shown up to practice last week, Ronan worried. Adam was known for always being there when he needed. He was probably the most dedicated player on the team. And then he went and wrote a letter of resignation, and quit the team right before playoffs started. Ronan had been blindsided and thoroughly confused as most of the team had been. Why would he do such a thing? It made no logical sense. And every time Ronan asked Adam why he wouldn’t answer. Something didn’t add up.

Gansey and Noah were sitting across from Ronan at Nino’s. Ronan had joined up right after practice, which was a doozy today. He felt stiff from all the sweat and cold from the stupid A/C that was blowing in late October. There was a large pie in front of them, with Gansey’s disgusting combination of avocado and sausage on half of it. Ronan opted for a regular cheese slice.

“Did you get Adam to talk about what happened yet?” Gansey inquired.

Ronan shook his head as he chewed the bite of pizza he just took. He then took a giant swig of water and swallowed.

“Bastard won’t even look my way. I might as well have the plague, but he’s the one that looks like it. Those bruises are bad,” Ronan responded.

He wanted to find out who the fuck did that to Adam. Ronan had figured out about his family life. He’d seen the bruises and cuts he tried to hide from prying eyes. The ones he showed up with last week covered his entire face. His piece of shit father might cause harm, but they were in hidden spots. This was blatant for all to see. And Adam wouldn’t say a word about it.  

Gansey shook his head ruefully as he bit into his own slice. “Such a shame. He was so good at playing too.”

Ronan felt anger building up inside of him. He slammed his fists on the table, causing Noah and Gansey to startle and for everything to shake.

“Someone put him up to this damn it. And I’m going to find out who,” he declared before standing up and storming out of the restaurant.

The next week, Ronan managed to corner Adam in the hallway after school. He was getting his things out of his locker when Ronan came up. He banged his fist against the locker startling Adam into almost dropping his books.

The bruises were still on his face, but they didn’t look nearly as grotesque as they had the past two weeks. Once he recovered from the scare his blue eyes glared up at Ronan. It seemed that he reverted back to how it used to be before he’d made the soccer team. Aloof and a wallflower.

“What do you want Lynch?” he asked leaning against the locker.

Ronan mirrored his position and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I wanna know why.”

Adam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Why, what?”

Ronan scoffed at Adam and trying to fake dumb. “Don’t be an idiot Parrish. Why did you quit the soccer team right as playoffs were beginning?”

“My schedule became too busy. I couldn’t juggle all of it, so I had to sacrifice something,” he responded.

Adam Parrish was a good liar. But Ronan was better at detecting them. He snarled at Adam.

“Bullshit, Parrish. What’s the real reason?” he demanded.

Ronan saw a flare of anger flash through Adam. He’d correctly called his bluff and now he had to scramble. He adjusted the strap of his scrappy backpack and started to walk away. Ronan followed him.

“Fuck off, Lynch. Don’t you have practice now anyway?” Adam bit out.

“You’d have it too if you didn’t fucking quit. Who made you write that letter? Was it your father?”

Adam stopped in his tracks and whipped around towards Ronan. There was a fire in his eyes and he bared his teeth out at him. Ronan knew instantly he’d hit a nerve.

“Don’t ever mention it again,” he gritted out. “And no, it wasn’t him.”

Then he briskly walked away from Ronan. He knew Adam wasn’t lying that time. And he figured if it wasn’t his father, then it had to be someone on the team.

Ronan banged loudly against Declan’s dorm door. He knew he was in there because he had a big physics test tomorrow and he’d be studying while his roommate was out in the library. A moment later the door swung up to reveal Declan’s scowling face.

The two were not on good terms ever since their father died a few months ago. But this was important. Ronan didn’t wait to be invited in, as he shoved his way past Declan and onto his roommate’s bed. Declan shut the door behind him and followed him in.

“The fuck you want Ronan?” he demanded.

“Johnston, Conway, and Bernard forced Parrish to quit the team,” he declared without any preamble.

Declan’s face showed surprise at the accusation and then morphed into confusion and suspicion. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“What the fuck made you come up with that accusation?” he asked.

“I heard them bragging about it today. I almost kicked their asses right there, but I figured you’d want to join in the fun,” Ronan said with a smirk.

Declan had a face of annoyance. He and Ronan knew how to box, sure. And they beat up on each quite frequently. But the idea of actually getting into a fight with anyone other than Ronan would tarnish his future political career.

“It’s your word, against theirs, Ronan. We can’t just beat the shit out our teammates because of a suspicion.”

“Parrish himself told me it was players on the team.”

“Did he mention any names?” Declan countered.

Ronan glared at Declan. “No. But I figured if he said so, and those three assholes were laughing and bragging about the incident...the puzzle pieces fall into place Declan.”

His older brother let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. A moment later he looked up at Ronan.

“If we actually accuse these to the Coach, the board can get involved. They could get kicked off the team.”

Ronan stood up and threw his hands in the air. “Fuck them! Let them be kicked off! They fucking beat Adam to a pulp, when he fucking gets enough of that at home, and forced him to quit the team right as playoffs started. Where is the fucking justice in letting them continue to play?”

Delcan’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. Ronan realized what he’d let slip out and ran a hand over his buzzed scalp. “Shit,” he cursed.

“I won’t tell anyone about Parrish’s homelife. But you’re right. We’re going to have to report them.”

“Let’s fucking start the paperwork now then.”

Declan looked longingly at the opened physics notebook before sighing and nodding his head in agreement.

Adam was thankful he grabbed the mail today. Inside beside the various envelopes containing bills and warnings to pay said bills. But one envelope had the Aglionby insignia on the front and was addressed to Adam.

Immediately he went into panic mode. He didn’t know what would warrant a letter home. He hadn’t done anything bad. He gets perfect marks on all his quizzes and tests. He hands everything on time. He pays his tuition religiously every month. Adam couldn’t fathom to see what was inside the envelope.

He walked back to his double wide and set the rest of the mail on the little kitchen table and walked into his room to open the letter privately. With shaking fingers he opened it up and unfolded the piece of parchment paper. Slowly he read the words, and then when he finished, he read them again because he couldn’t believe what he was reading.

A court date with the board of directors? Regarding an incident with fellow students on the varsity soccer team?

Adam couldn’t understand how this could be. He hadn’t told anyone about the incident, and he planned on keeping it that way. It was just better off swept under the rug. He didn’t belong on a team where all the richest kids of Aglionby played. He was the black sheep surrounded by wolves.

Then he remembered Ronan probing him relentlessly. Wanting to know who did it, and why. And Adam telling him to leave it alone. Obviously, Ronan had not done that, and now Adam had to show up for a fucking court date with the board of directors of Aglionby affairs.

Adam threw the envelope to the ground and flopped on his bed. He grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his face and screamed into it out of frustration. Then after a few minutes, he stormed out of the double-wide with the letter in hand, grabbed his bike and rode off to Monmouth Manufacturing.

Once he was there he practically threw the bike to the ground as he ran up the stairs. He knocked roughly on the door a few times. He heard some grumbling, and what sounded like Chainsaw squawking. Ronan opened up the door, and Adam felt a surge of anger overcome him. All he saw was red. He pushed Ronan with all his strength, which startled Ronan as he stumbled back. Then Adam threw the crushed letter at his face.

“Parrish, what the fuck’s got you in a tizzy?” Ronan asked.

Adam pushed him again. “You piece of shit! You told the board of directors about this?” he screamed.

Gansey and Noah came out of their hiding places, looking confused at the fight that broke out. Ronan looked down at the letter and then back to Adam.

“Of fucking course I did, Parrish. Those assholes deserve punishment!” he defended.

Adam shook his head and threw his hands up in disbelief. Sometimes he was amazed at how ignorant rich people are to their own kind. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Easy for you to say, Lynch! You know how this is going to go down. They’re going to show up, tell them how they aren’t guilty. And then their rich ass parents are going to give a ‘ generous donation ’ to Aglionby to shut them up and let them go off scot-free. That’s how it fucking works when you’re rich.”

Ronan looked like a chastised child. He opened his mouth to retort, but Adam plowed on.

“Aglionby doesn’t give a fuck about the trailer trash kid on a scholarship they barely let go of. Why would they? I’m the son of nobodies, from a place in the fucking hillbilly central of America. I’d just ruin their reputation if shit like this got out to whatever network of private boys preparatory schools there are. So nothing's going to happen for me, and the assholes who are responsible for this aren’t going to be punished. That’s how life and America works. Not that you’d know, Ronan.”  

Adam walked over and yanked the fallen letter into his hand. He looked Ronan hard in the eyes. “So thanks a lot for getting this on my fucking record.”

The court date was a Friday, at six at night. Adam had to cancel a shift at Boyd’s to be here, which caused him immense pain thinking about the money he’d lose. Adam also didn’t own any suits, and he barely owned any nice clothing. He had to pick out a light blue button up shirt, that was too short for his arms, so he had roll the sleeves up. It was too tight, but it was all he had. He had to reuse his Aglionby uniform neck tie because he didn’t have any real ones to use, and his only nice pair of slacks looked like flood pants. He had to wear his Aglionby shoes as well because it was either that or his worn out Adidas.

He biked to Aglionby and made his way into the Administrative building. He made sure to lock up his bike even though he knew no one in their rich minds would want to be associated with it. Adam walked up to the doors and combed his hair with his fingers hoping it would look okay. He took a deep breath and walked in.

It was intimidating. There was a large wooden table that cost more than his entire trailer and five people sitting along it. They were all in clothes that cost more than Adam could ever dream of having. They were all old, and all of them were white men. Adam did not feel comfortable at all.

He noticed Ronan and Declan were already seated. Both were dressed impeccably in shining suits. Even Ronan looked more formal and sedated than usual. He turned and saw Ryan Johnston, Will Conway, and Woodrow Bernard as well. All three of them glared at Adam who felt skittish in front of them and looked away. Even Coach Stafford, and Coaches Collins and Anderson were present. There were other adults as well, ones Adam didn’t recognize. Adam realized they were probably the parents of the accused; ready to pay whatever the price tag is to sweep this under.  

“Mr. Parrish, please have a seat so we shall begin,” Headmaster Child, the Dean of Aglionby spoke. His voice echoed in the chamber. Adam broke out into a cold sweat and nodded his head sitting next to Ronan.

The hearing began. The accused went first before the board of directors to give their side of the story. Adam had felt himself disassociating from the whole place. He could make out the words but he wasn’t paying attention. He already knew how this would end.

“Mr. Parrish,” he heard the voice. He didn’t respond the first time. “Mr. Parrish,” it repeated louder this time.

He felt a little jostle of his shoulder, which made Adam snap out of it. He looked over to see Ronan staring at him with his intense blue eyes. He nodded his head towards the adults. Adam flushed and stood up and cleared his throat.

“Sir?” he asked softly.

“Is what Mr. Johnston, Mr. Conway, and Mr. Bernard, true?” Headmaster Child inquired.

Adam felt shame and embarrassment flood through his body. He couldn’t answer the question because he didn’t know the answer. He hadn’t been listening to their side. They probably made something absurd to cover themselves. Adam cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He heard the sniggers of laughter coming from the three boys.

“I can’t answer because I don’t know what they said,” he answered.

One of the other adults leaned forward. Adam didn’t know who he was. “Were you not listening, boy? This is your trial.”

Adam felt tears starting to form in his eyes. This was his nightmare come to life. But he would not cry in front of these people, god damn it. He felt anger course through him suddenly.

“No I wasn’t listening, sir. Please tell me what they said so I can tell you if it’s true or not.” The old man looked affronted. They all did.

Headmaster Child cleared his throat. “Well, they told us that you confronted them in the locker room, calling them slurs , which I will not repeat in this room. Bragging about how you were the best player on the team, and you should be the captain, etcetera, etcetera. Then you threw the first punch and they retaliated in defense. Is that true, Mr. Parrish?”

Adam shook his head. “No, sir. They confronted me and told me all those nasty things. They beat me up in the locker room and dragged me out the side of the building where no one would be able to find me and left me there. They also forced me to resign from the team so they could get more attention. That’s the truth, I swear to God.”

Another old man who Adam didn’t know leaned forward. “Well, that is quite the story. But it’s three men against you, Mr. Parrish.”

Ronan stood up suddenly. “They’re full of bullshit,” he said.

“Mr. Lynch!” Headmaster Child scolded from the profanity-laced outburst. Ronan kept going.

“No, fuck this. I heard them talking and bragging about how they beat the shit out of Adam and how they got him to quit the team. Adam’s story is true.”

“You have no proof, Lynch,” Ryan Johnston boasted. “And you have no context of the conversation.”

Ronan sneered, but Declan stood up and put his hand on Ronan’s shoulder like he was taming a beast. He looked over at the board of directors. “Sirs, this is what my brother has told me as well. It was believable enough for us to write up the report of this incident and get it here.”

Headmaster Child nodded his head. “Very admirable to stick up for a fellow classmate Lynch brothers. But unfortunately, there is no sufficient evidence provided. As a courtesy, we shall look at the case in more details and come up with a verdict soon. Thank you for your time.”  He then banged a gavel twice on the wooden table to dismiss the case.

Adam wasn’t upset because he knew this would be the outcome. He watched as the parents of the accused walked over to the board and shook hands. They all wore jovial smiles like nothing had just happened in the last hour. Adam knew that money was being passed to keep quiet. He walked out of the building and towards his bike. He felt Ronan following him.

“I told you this would happen,” Adam said without looking up.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way we had hoped,” he apologized.

Adam tied the lock around his bike and straddled it. He looked up at Ronan through the lamplights of Aglionby.

“Not we, you . I didn’t ask for this. And now I’ve wasted an entire shift of money to be here to watch some rich assholes get away with beating me up, and to add to the factor, I have it on my permanent record that I tried to start shit up,” he said.

“You didn’t start shit , Parrish. They beat you up!” Ronan exclaimed.

Adam threw his hands in the air. “That’s not anything fucking new, Ronan! I’m gonna go home and probably get the shit beaten out of me anyway. Thanks for nothing, Ronan. Good luck tomorrow.”

He pushed off the ground and started the ride back home.

   Just as Adam said it would, the whole issue was thrown under the rug thanks to parents having money. It made Ronan furious. And that fury translated into the games he played. He played more aggressively, he got into more scuffles with the opposing team and even his own teammates. He got a few yellow cards for unnecessary aggression, and then got a red card and suspended three games. He didn’t give a shit because it wasn’t fair in the first place.

And what seemed to be even worse, was that he started to show up for some of the games with Gansey, Noah and their newly found friend Blue. He would sit in the stands and watch the game. He cheered when necessary, but Ronan always saw that he usually just sat in silence with that analytical look on his face.

Aglionby clinched the position to play in the state championship this year thanks to a goal scored by Ronan in overtime. Ronan’s friends came over after the game to congratulate the team on the victory.

Gansey came in for a hug, which Ronan allowed but not without an eye roll. When he let go, he had a big smile on his face, showing off the dimples in his cheeks.

“You have a marvelous game, Ronan! I can’t wait to watch you in the championship.”

Noah came in next for a hug. He was lighter, and Ronan wrapped an arm around the elven boy with a smirk. He gave Noah a noogie which caused him to squeal out of with a bodacious laugh.

“That kick you did in the goalie box was insane! No wonder you’re called the sonic boom,” he said.

“You’re the only one who calls me that, Czerny.”

“Still stands. Your kicks can leave imprints on people. And every time it hits the goal post it sounds like one.”

Blue gave a punch to the shoulder and a smile as her form of congratulations. Ronan looked to see Adam standing silently. He had his hands in his pockets, and his hair was falling over his face. In the light of the field, it reflected over it making it look like gold. He gave a quick tight-lipped smile.

“Congrats on going to states,” he said simply.

Ronan could see it lacked the enthusiasm his other friends showed. It’s been over a month since the whole court hearing incident. The bruises had since faded on his face, but he still had them scattered on his arms when his uniform bunched up his arms by accident.

He wanted to say something about how he should be celebrating with the team too. But he didn’t want to rub more salt in the wound. So he just opted for a nod.

“Thanks, Parrish.”

“Nino’s anyone?” Gansey suggested.

No one opposed it and they all walked back to their cars. Adam jumped in with Noah in his red Mustang, while Blue and Gansey and Ronan jumped into the Pig. Ronan threw his gear in the back seat and climbed in.

“Ack, it smells horrible in here. Thanks, Ronan,” Blue complained.

Ronan in retaliation threw one of his sweaty socks up to the passenger seat. She let out a scream, which made Ronan cackle in delight. Gansey twisted around to face him in the back, as Ronan took off his cleats and replaced them with sandals to let his feet air out.

“That is so disgusting!” Blue shrieked.

“Very mature, Ronan,” Gansey said.

“Mature is my middle name,” he retorted.

Gansey turned around and pulled out of the parking lot. It was a five-minute drive into Main Street, and then he pulled up into a spot right outside the facade of Nino’s. Noah’s Mustang was already parked meaning Adam and Noah was already inside. The three of them went into the restaurant and sat down in the booth reserved for them by the two boys.

“Adam and I ordered drinks already. When our waitress comes back you can order too,” Noah informed.

Once everything was ordered, the conversation naturally turned to the soccer game. Gansey and Noah were excitedly chatting about all the plays that were made. Noah slammed his hands on the table.

“That assist Johnston made to you Ronan at the forty minute mark was epic!” Noah exclaimed.

Ronan saw Adam roll his eyes. “It wasn’t that great. He had a better opportunity to pass it to McKenzie,” he muttered. He took a sip of water.

Ronan nodded his head in agreement. “I almost didn’t trap that pass. I also had two players coming for me. That left McKenzie more open,” he defended.

“Adam, you truly are an analytical genius. You should be a soccer coach. You’d be the best,” Gansey complimented.

Adam shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with the straw in his cup of water. He sighed and leaned back against the bench with his arms crossed.

Ronan noticed he hadn’t been the same since the incident. He closed himself off. And it made Ronan angry every time he was reminded of the injustice. He needed to do something. And this time he wouldn’t fuck it up.

Ronan knocked on Coach Stafford’s door. It was open, but Ronan didn’t just want to barge straight in. He had some semblance of respect...sometimes.

“Come in,” the gruff voice said.

Ronan walked in and noticed all the college pennants that were hung across the wall. He saw Harvard, UNC-Chapel Hill, Stanford, Brown, and a whole other of D-1 schools. It was surprisingly personal. Coach Stafford looked up and gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Middle Lynch. What can I do you for?” he asked looking down at paperwork.

“We need to do something about Parrish,” Ronan said cutting right to the chase. The mention of Adam gained Coach’s attention. He put the papers away and put his pen behind his ear.

“What about Parrish?”

“It isn’t fair what happened to him. You were at the hearing. You saw Johnston, Conway, and Bernard shit out of their ass with that story they told. We need to do something.”

Coach Stafford leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers and resting them behind his neck.

“Of course I know that. But there ain’t much that can be done now. We got to championships in a week. I can’t just kick them off the team now. Plus there would be a brouhaha.”

Ronan did his smokers inhale. It was what he did to calm himself before exploding in anger. He grits his teeth together.

“You don’t have to kick them off the team. Just don’t play them in the championships. Bring Parrish back on for the last game,” Ronan suggested.

Coach Stafford just shook his head and leaned forward. He rested his elbows on the messy desk. “It doesn’t work that way, son.”

“What are you afraid of? Rich parents taking funding off the team? Losing your job?” Ronan demanded, his anger leaking out.

The silence was enough of an answer. Ronan slammed his palms against the desk, shaking the stupid bobbleheads of Pelé and Messi. He looked his coach right in the eyes.

“If you were an actual coach, you wouldn’t give a fuck. Parrish is indispensable on this team, and he deserves more of a chance than those fuckheads who beat the shit out of him to quit.”

Coach Stafford rubbed his fingers against his mustache and let out a deep sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, when I saw him that first day of tryouts, I recognized him,” he started.

Ronan didn’t really care. He just sat in silence glaring at his coach for not having the guts to do anything.

“I asked him where he’d transfer from. And when he told me, Shawnee, I immediately knew it was number five. That kid that would’ve cost us that game last season. And I knew I had a star.”

“So what?”

“I’ve been coaching this team for a long time. And being a private school for sons of politicians, and diplomats, I’ve seen a lot of different players. I know the difference between those who had been trained to be good and those who are naturally gifted at being great. Parrish has the gift.

“And I was flabbergasted when I read his letter of resignation he put on my desk. I didn’t understand why he would do such a thing so suddenly. I saw the look on his face when he was on the pitch. That kid was most happy when he was playing. So it didn’t make any sense to me that he’d just up and quit.”

“If he’s so damn special as you say he is, then do something. Convince him to be back on the team,” Ronan countered.

“If there was anyway, I would, Ronan. Trust me.” Ronan’s eyes widened. Coach Stafford never called him Ronan.

“Who cares about the rules. If you know it’s the right thing to do, then you wouldn’t care.”

Ronan stood up and walked out of the office.

Adam had no idea why he was being summoned into Coach Stafford’s office. He felt his stomach twisting into knots as he made his way. He hadn't confronted the coach after giving his letter that day. He’d been afraid to say anything; he was shameful of his actions but he knew he had no other choice.

He knocked on the door, and walked in and took a seat. Adam had never been in his office before, and his eyes kept catching on all the decorations surrounding the walls and desk. He looked down at his hands.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he said.

“Adam,” his voice was uncharacteristically soft. It caused Adam to look up at his old coach.

“You know, I didn’t place you as a quitter, or someone who gives up when things get tough.”

Adam felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment and shame. His eyes darted back down to his calloused hands.

“Sorry, sir.”

“No need to apologize. There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I hope you know that.”

“I do now, sir.”

“Adam.” Adam looked back up at his coach. His hazel eyes were boring into his own. “You do know that right? None of this is your fault.”

Adam couldn’t help but sense this was about more than his resignation letter from the team. He didn’t answer. It was silent between the two of them for a minute. Coach Stafford leaned back in his chair.

“I’ve been talking with the other coaches, and players.”

“About what, sir?” he wondered before he could seal his lips together. His eyes widened.

Coach Stafford didn’t seem to mind, and let a small smile form on his face. He leaned down and went to grab something from underneath his desk. It was a small box. Adam eyed it warily.

“About taking you back on the team to play in the Championships.”

Adam felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a little. He just stared at Coach Stafford like he grew another head. Adam shook the daze out of his mind.

“What? You can’t just do that. It’s against the rules. Plus, parents would be angry. You could lose funding. You could lose your job!” he exclaimed.

Coach Stafford just gave a little chuckle. He had a twinkle in his eye that Adam didn’t understand.

“I know. But I had a chat with someone who put me in my place recently. He told me, getting you on the team again is the right thing to do. Consequences be damned.”

“That sounds like Ronan told you to do this,” he stated.

His smile formed more on his face. “That is exactly who said it to me. That boy is an inferno. And he really cares about you, Parrish.”

Adam tried to wrap his mind around Ronan coming into the office, storming in like a wildfire. Demanding that Adam be back on the team. Screaming injustice and telling him to grow a pair. The thought made him smile a little bit. But he also had to ask himself, why? Why would he go through all this trouble for Adam?

It’s what friends do, idiot , a voice that sounded suspiciously like him quipped in his mind.

And it didn’t feel like charity. If Gansey or hell even Noah, had tried to do this, he would’ve taken it as pity for Adam Parrish, the poor boy of Aglionby. But Ronan had been so persistent in this, that Adam knew it was because he genuinely cared about Adam. And that caused a warm feeling to erupt in his chest; a feeling that was unfamiliar to him.

    Adam looked up to see Coach Stafford holding up his jerseys for him. He had a small smile on his face. “Adam, you have a gift. There’s a difference between paying your way to talent , and being born with it. You are easily the most talented kid on this team. Be a raven again.”

Adam looked at the uniforms for a few moments before taking them from Coach’s hands. It felt like a new beginning.

The Championship game was against Daniel Webster High School, and was going to be played in Richmond, the capital of Virginia. Adam had never traveled so far in his entire life, and he was beyond excited. It was an overnight trip, another first. Adam had never left Henrietta before.

He didn’t tell his parents about the trip. But he figured they wouldn’t notice anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time. Most of the time they were glad to be rid of Adam. He quietly packed his things in a little drawstring bag in his room. The night before they were to leave, he made sure to complete all his homework that would be due on Monday.

When he silently called lights out for himself, Adam found himself lying in bed looking at the low ceiling in his tiny room. He could barely sleep he was so anxious and filled with energy. All he could think about was the big city of Richmond and what it would look like when he got there. He wondered how good the other team was they were playing. He started to think about the little doubts of himself. He hadn’t played in nearly two months. He wasn’t as good as he could’ve been had ne not quit the team. But Coach Stafford had faith in him. He saw something in Adam, he didn’t see in himself. That had to count for something right?

He managed to get a few hours of sleep in, and when his alarm clock went off at five-thirty, he all but jumped out of bed. His parents were still fast asleep, so he snuck around to brush his teeth quietly and get dressed in his away uniform. Then he quietly left the trailer and started to bike to Aglionby.

He chained the bike to the bike rack, that he only used. He gathered all his things and walked over to the front of the property where the bus would be arriving. Adam was the first person there.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains. In the November air, some of them were snowcapped. The sun reflected of the snow, making it look like there was lava flowing down the mountains. It was beautiful to watch.

Slowly other teammates began to show up. Some of them smiled at Adam, but they were still too sleepy to form conversation. When Johnston, Conway, and Bernard showed up they glared at Adam but kept their distance. Coach Stafford had told them about being benchwarmers for today’s game after the stunt with Adam.

Adam heard the roaring of Ronan’s BMW pull up the road in the early morning silence. He watched as the car sharply pulled into a parking spot, and Ronan all but slammed the door and walked over. His chunky white headphones were around his neck. He looked ready, and he plopped himself next to Adam on the stone wall.

“Mornin’, Parrish,” he greeted. He then thrusted a coffee into his ungloved hands. Adam glared and pushed it back to Ronan.

“Take it Parrish. I had a free coffee from Dunkin’ today. Didn’t cost a fucking dime,” he dismissed giving it back to Adam, who reluctantly took it.

He opened the lid, and the hot steam came out of the cup and hit him in the face. He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale. It smelled delicious. He took a tentative sip and burned his tongue, but it was worth it.

“Where’s Declan?” Adam wondered. He didn’t pull in with Ronan.

“Had to drop off something Matthew left at the dorms. He’s coming to the game, and said it was essential.”

Adam nodded his head. Soon the bus pulled up and everyone started to load their carryons into the bottom of the coach bus. Adam stood up and walked over, with Ronan following behind.

“That’s all you got?” he asked.

“Don’t have a lot of things, Lynch,” Adam bit back.

Once he was inside the bus he found a seat in the middle and practically melted into it. These seats were the most comfortable he’s ever sat in. Ronan sat next to him in the aisle seat. The sun was now reflecting in Adam’s eyes, who squinted and turned away. Everyone seemed to be on the bus. Coach Stafford walked on with a smile on his face.

“Okay boys. We’re about to go play the best game of our lives. Get some rest.”

Adam knew he did roll call as everyone got on the bus. A moment later the bus pulled out of the parking lot. Adam turned to face Ronan.

“Thank you,” he said.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “For what? The stupid coffee?”

“No, for getting me back.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Ronan then let a small smile on his face. He put his headphones over his ears. “Don’t mention it, Parrish.”

Adam soon fell asleep.

He was woken up by nudging. Adam slowly came to his senses and felt more refreshed then he had in years. He looked over to see it was Ronan who had woken him up. Adam glared at him.

“Why’d you wake me up for?” his accent slipping out in his sleep.

Ronan pointed out the window. Adam looked out, and saw buildings high in the sky. Adam felt his eyes widen at the sight. He’d never seen a big city before. And it was something to behold.

“Whoa,” Adam said in awe.

“Richmond’s a piece of shit compared to other cities,” Ronan snidely said, effectively ruining the moment.

Adam broke out of his awe to give a side eye to Ronan. “Thanks for ruining the moment, asshole.”

Ronan gave a shark tooth grin. “It’s what I do best.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but he felt a small smile forming on his own face. Now that he was awake, and the sun was high in the sky, he just watched all the cars zoom by on the high way and the different buildings pass by.

Soon they pulled into a parking lot, that was right outside of Richmond. It was a high school, and in the background was the skyscrapers of the city. The bus stopped, and everyone shuffled off and grabbed their things.

Coach Stafford led the way to where the turf field was. It looked like the field at Aglionby, but they played on real grass. Adam heard Ronan curse.

“Fucking hate turf fields. Quickest way to fuck your ankles and feet up,” he spat.

Adam didn’t know any better. He’d never played on turf before. Crappy grass fields, with potholes and patches of dirt and grass? All the time. Never artificial grass though. He trusted Ronan on that judgement.

The game was at noon, and it was eleven at their time of arrival. The players went to the visitors side and dropped all their stuff to get ready. Adam sat down on the turf. He was shocked to feel it warm, even on the cold day. He put his hands down, and rubbed between the artificial grass, and came up with a bunch of black rubber pieces. He found that odd as he wiped them off his hands. He rolled down his socks so he could put on his ankle and shin guards before rolling them back up properly. He made sure his cleats were tied tightly and securely. The last thing he wants is to lose a shoe when he kicks a ball.

Coach Stafford blew the whistle to signal the start of warm ups. They did a two lap jog around the field, and then did some dynamic stretches led by Declan. After Adam felt loose already. They split up into groups to practice possession with a game of keepaway. Those lasted for twenty minutes. Then they paired up to practice trapping. Ronan and Adam paired together. They started with feet, then moved to thighs, then to chests, and then heads. After they went to the goal and practiced shooting and one-on-one with defenders. This was where Adam was able to practice his footwork.

“Nice shot, Mr. Magician with your hocus-pocus moves,” Ronan taunted after he beat him. Adam shot him a smile as he ran behind the goal post to get in line to be a defender.

Warmups ended after that, and the other team had arrived. They were wearing an all white uniform, with green numbering and lettering. They were out doing similar practice games. Everyone took drinks from their water bottles as Coach came up to them.

“Okay boys. I want you to remember, no matter if we win or lose today, that we made it this far in the first place. That is something to be proud of. But you have to give it your all. You have to give it a hundred and ten percent. And remember, we work better as a team, not as the individual. Soccer is a game of teamwork. If you wanted to play for your own glory, you came to the wrong sport.”

“Yes sir!” everyone echoed. The energy was already building up.

“That a boys. Here’s the starting lineup.”

Adam didn’t expect to hear his name. He was never on the starting line up. But when he heard Coach Stafford say “Parrish, left striker,” he was shocked. A smile broke out on his face. He was ready to play. Coach Stafford winked at Adam.

“Lynch brothers, Captains for today. Go to the referees for the coin toss.”

Both Declan and Ronan nodded their heads and went over to do their captains duties. Adam watched them shake hands with the opposing team’s captains as well as the referees for the game. The coin was flipped in the air, and more taking occurred before Declan and Ronan jogged over.

“We’re on this side, playing offense first,” Declan reported.

Coach Stafford nodded his head and clapped Declan on the back. Ronan came up with a smirk on his face.

“It’s me and you up top, Parrish. Let’s kick some ass.”

Adam looked over at the visiting side bleachers. It was jam packed with students from Aglionby. The leader of The Conspiracy was decked out in blue, black, and white paint. And so were many other people who were in the group. People brought the Aglionby flag and were waving it back and forth. Some others brought hand made gravestones that read: R.I.P. Daniel Webster High. There had to be at least close to two hundred people there. And in the front row, he saw Noah, who like the leader was decked in full body paint, including his hair, and Gansey and Blue who looked much more normal. But even they were wearing some face paint and joining the cheers. Matthew, was one of the people waving the Aglionby flags.

“Is that what Declan had to give Matthew today?” Adam asked pointing towards the youngest Lynch.

Ronan let out a laugh. “Yeah.”

The referee blew the whistle in warning. Adam looked over at Ronan. “Show time.”

The two of them jogged out to position in the center of the field. The referee tossed the ball to Ronan who trapped it with his chest and then under his foot. Adam glanced around at his other teammates.

The referee had his hand up in the air, his whistle in his mouth. Adam tensed, ready to run. The whistle blew and the game began. Immediately Ronan gave it to Adam who then kicked it back to Declan who was left midfield. Adam ran up the field hoping to get the pass back from Declan who came through.

The game was filled with shouts coming from different people. Within the first few minutes, Adam had already shot on goal, but was blocked at the very last moment, pushing it askew to miss the goal and go out of bounds for a goal kick.

Both teams were evenly matched. Adam liked that because he liked a good challenge. Aglionby would have to work for this win. At the thirty six minute mark, Cortez shouted at Adam to go long. He thrusted a kick all the way down to the middle of the other half where Adam was able to trap it effectively before pushing forward. He came up with a defender who trapped him to a flank, but he managed to rabona around him and back towards the box. It was the perfect breakaway. Adam made it to the penalty box, and he could see the goalie coming up to snatch the ball. A moment before he could, Adam swung his left foot and kicked the ball right into the net, scoring.

A roar of cheers erupted from the stands and his team as well as they all came up to high five him. Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam. “Way to go Parrish.”

A minute later, while the defense was still frazzled by the score, Adam passed perfectly across the box and Ronan jumped and headed the ball in for a second goal. And then it was halftime.

The team jogged back over to the sidelines. Coach Stafford looked ecstatic at the results. He clapped his hands in a round of applause.

“Boys, this is some of the finest soccer playing I’ve ever seen in my fifteen years of coaching this team. Parrish, Middle Lynch, great goals. If you keep it up in the next half, there is no doubt in my mind that we’ll win this game. Drink up.”

Halftime was quickly over, and Adam was subbed out for McKenzie so he could rest for a few moments. He was glad to sit down and watch the game play. He’d be back on the pitch soon enough.

The game continued as a giant match of keep away. The ball was going back and forth on both ends, each having some shots on goal but not making any. Coach Stafford was subbing out more frequently, rotating his players. But Johnston, Conway, and Bernard were the benchwarmers of the game. They were all sulking on the bench, with glares of envy written on their faces with their arms crossed over their chests. Coach Stafford didn’t seem to care.

“Parrish, let’s get you back in there.”

Adam stood up and started to jump up and down to keep his body warmed up. He subbed back in for McKenzie who gave a high five as they ran past each other. The whistle blew continuing the game.

Adam felt he was working harder than any other game he’d played. And he liked the challenge it presented him. He passed to his teammates who were open, and he shot on goal when he had the chance. But it was still 2-0 as the second half was winding down.

As the timer went to the forty third minute, Adam could feel a breakaway opportunity coming. He saw Ronan, who had been switched to center midfield, running up the field. Adam turned to the other forwards and midfielders.

“Cover him!” he shouted. They seemed to understand. They all ran towards Ronan and covered an opposing player so he could get up the field. Ronan passed to them who did quick passes back up always in synch with Ronan’s speed. As he came up to the penalty box, getting past the defenders, he shot the ball. Adam watched as it arched. It was like a comet coming in from outer space. He could see the trajectory was going to hit the post, and Adam ran into position. As it ricocheted, Adam jumped up and headed the ball into the net.

The whistle blew signalling the end of the game. The roar of the crowd was so loud Adam couldn’t focus. The team ran up to him, surrounding him with hugs, and high fives and pats on the back. He was so stunned he couldn’t react properly.

“Parrish, you bastard! You did it!” Ronan yelled jovially. He engulfed Adam in a big hug and Adam returned it. Then he started laughing as he realized what was happening.

They had done it. They won the championships. They released and Ronan grabbed Adam’s cheeks in his hands. Adam found himself staring into Ronan’s eyes.

“I could kiss you right now for that. God, you are amazing.”

Adam smiled and then leaned in and kissed Ronan Lynch right there. It was soft, and quick. When he released he saw Ronan was shell-shocked. His blue eyes were wide, and his mouth was open.

“You did say you’d kiss me,” Adam teased.

Ronan smirked and gently pushed Adam’s shoulder. “Asshole.”

After the original high wore down, the team shook hands with the opposing team in a sign of good sportsmanship. Then they got the giant trophy and took a group photo with it. Coach Stafford thrusted the trophy into Ronan and Adam’s hands.

“The MVPs of the game get to hold the trophy. Smile boys!”

It was one of the best moments of Adam’s life.