Page 201 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
An embarrassing twinge of emotion scoured my throat as I surveyed the crowded living room. I would never say it aloud because they’d give me never-ending shit about it, but the fact they were giving up part of their Sunday for me when I hadn’t given them any details about this meeting’s topic meant a hell of a lot.
One of the things I loved most about football was the brotherhood. I’d lost that after I left Holchester, but I was tentatively hopeful that I’d found it again.
“So what’s this mystery meeting about?” Samson asked, stretching his arms and legs with a yawn. “It better be something good. I’m missing a Sunday roast for this.”
“Are we finally starting our book club?” Adil straightened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wilma Pebbles has a new book coming out soon. It should be our featured read.”
Ever since he read that Triceratops book, he’d been obsessed with Wilma Pebbles.
The rest of the team laughed and jeered, though several members looked intrigued. Stevens tossed a throw pillow at him. Adil easily caught it.
“Don’t forget you all agreed to join the book club,” he reminded them. “I’m adding everyone to the group chat once I’ve sorted out the logistics.”
“You mean you haven’t sorted them out yet?” Gallagher snorted. “What kind of club adminareyou?”
“The kind who’ll put you on cleanup duty if you don’t show me more respect.”
“Yeah? I’d like to see you enforcethatrule—hey! Watch the hair!” Gallagher protested when Adil threw the pillow at him.
Beside me, Vincent rubbed his temple and shook his head.
This was why I didn’t want to be team captain. Corralling a group of footballers was harder than herding a litter of hyperactive puppies.
“This isnota book club meeting,” he said. “This is a strategy meeting. It has to do with our newest team member.”
The other players quieted, their eyes roving between us with open curiosity. They were still getting used to Vincent and me working together instead of arguing, but they were fully on board with the new dynamic. Last season’s tension hadn’t been fun for anyone.
“Did you two finally kiss and make up?” Elliott, a midfielder, called from his seat next to the fireplace. “Are our parents not divorced anymore?”
Laughter erupted around the room.
“Excuse me.” Vincent looked insulted. “I’ve been your captain for years.Heonly transferred in this year.” He jerked his thumb at me. “We are not on the same level. There’s only one parent here, and it’s me.”
“Sure,” I said. “You can be the annoying parent. I’ll be the fun older brother.”
He glared at me, but the expression lacked heat. “Are you going to continue taking the piss, or are you going to explain to everyone why they’re here?”
Right. As much as I enjoyed humbling his ego, we had more important matters to discuss.
I faced the team again. “First, before we get to the reason why we’re all here, I want to apologize,” I said. The sentiment had been weighing on me for a while, and I needed to get it off my chest. “I know things have been difficult for various reasons since I joined the club. Some of it is due to external circumstances, but some of it is because of me. Because of my temper, my recklessness?—”
“Your huge ego,” Vincent said.
“Mypride,” I said, ignoring him. “All of these things have contributed to a tumultuous start to the season. I dragged you guys into my fight with Holchester when I shouldn’t have, and now we’re all paying for it.”
I looked around the room at everyone’s somber faces. For once, they weren’t cracking jokes or goofing off. We had a rocky start, but we’d been through a lot together. I was grateful to have them by my side, and I wasn’t going to let them down again.
“However, that’s going to change because I’m committed to Blackcastle, and I’m sure as hellcommitted to making sure we bring home the trophy at the end of the season.”
Loud cheers greeted my words. I waited until they died down before I continued. “I’ll convince Coach to put me back in the game. When he does, know that I’ll be fighting forallof us on the pitch. This isn’t about me; it’s about the team. And together, we’re going tokick the other teams’ asses.”
Another raucous round of cheers erupted.
“Hear, hear!”
“FuckHolchester!”
“Blackcastle for the fucking win!” Elliott pounded on the table for emphasis.