Chapter 24
24
TORE
I stood in front of my locker, fingers trembling as I closed the metal door with a clank. The chatter of my teammates faded to the background as if coming to me through headphones. This was it, the finals of the nationals. Everything we’d worked for all season came down to the next ninety minutes as we played Elkin College, a highly ranked college near Boston. Our host was some university in Pennsylvania—neutral ground for both teams.
So many emotions were coursing through me that I didn’t even know where to start. I was incredibly grateful and proud that we’d made it this far. Being in the finals was an honor, no matter the outcome.
But I was also relieved that the season would be over. We were all exhausted from playing multiple games every week since the beginning of the school year. I had struggled to keep up with homework, and I wasn’t the only one.
Plus, Farron and I had barely managed to spend time together in between practice and games. After Christmas break, we would only do conditioning training, and once spring started, some friendly matches, so we’d finally have time to hang out.
Speaking of Christmas, would Farron and I be able to celebrate Christmas together? He’d probably want to go home, and I wouldn’t mind joining him, but it would be so much better to have him come home with me. Norway was stunning in the winter, and I’d love to show him the beauty of my country.
Of course, that meant coming clean about who I was first. After my call with Floris, I’d been determined to tell Farron the truth, but then I’d realized the potential consequences. If Farron took the news badly, it could affect the team and our season. I couldn’t let that happen, so I’d decided to wait until after the season was over. Surely, those few days extra wouldn’t matter.
Coach’s voice cut through the noise. “All right, Hawks, circle up!”
As we gathered, I caught Farron’s eye across the huddle. He gave me a slight nod, his jaw set with determination. My heart fluttered.
“You’ve all worked your butts off to get here, and I couldn’t be prouder of you,” Coach said. “You all know what to do because you’ve been doing it all season. Get out there and get it done.”
A cheer went up. I tried to join in, but my voice caught in my throat.
We did our team huddle, and then we streamed out of the locker room. Farron grabbed my shoulder as we filed out. “You’ve got this. Go shine.”
I managed a weak smile. Bloody hell, I’d never been this nervous about a match before. “I’ll do my very best to make you and the team proud.”
As we jogged onto the pitch, the roar of the crowd hit me like a wall. My legs felt like jelly. I took deep breaths, trying to center myself.
“Nervous?” Farron asked, still beside me.
“Me? I’m as cool as a cucumber.”
He chuckled. “Yeah right. You look like you’re about to puke.”
“I prefer to think of it as pre-match jitters.”
Our eyes met.
“Good luck,” I whispered.
“You too.”
We took our positions for kickoff. The ref blew his whistle. Game on.
As we battled back and forth across the pitch, my nerves settled. This was what I loved: the thrill of competition, pushing my body to its limits. Elkin played hard but fair, attacking at every opportunity, which kept Farron and the rest of our defense busy.
We were well-matched, ball possession going back and forth. These kinds of games where both teams preferred an offensive rather than defensive style were my favorite.
I sprinted forward, positioning myself for a potential cross from Farron. The crowd’s roar swelled as he dribbled past one defender, then another. My heart raced, hope surging through me. This could be our chance.
Farron sent the ball arcing toward me, the perfect height for a header. I leapt, my forehead connecting with the ball solidly, and turned my head to give it a spin in the right direction. Time seemed to slow as I watched it sail toward the goal. The keeper dove, fingers outstretched…
And tipped it over the crossbar.
“Bloody hell,” I groaned, landing hard on the pitch. The disappointment was a heavy weight in my chest as I pushed myself up.
Farron jogged over, offering a hand. “That was close, man. We’ll get the next one.”
I accepted his help, trying to muster a smile. “Right. Next one.”
But as the match wore on, that elusive goal seemed to slip further and further away. Every shot was blocked, every pass intercepted, every attack countered. The frustration was palpable among our team, shoulders tense and faces grim.
As halftime approached, I was near our own goal, helping defend against yet another Elkin assault. Their striker, a hulking bloke with surprising agility, managed to slip past our center-back.
I raced to intercept, but I was a fraction too slow. The Elkin player’s foot connected with the ball as I arrived, sending it sailing past Colin’s outstretched hands and into the net. The crowd erupted, but it wasn’t the joyous sound I’d been hoping for all match. Elkin’s fans were celebrating while our own supporters fell into a stunned silence.
I stood there, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath and process what had happened. We were down one to nil, with only moments left before halftime. Psychologically, that was bad timing, but at least we still had forty-five minutes to play.
Coach gave a rousing speech at halftime, which most of us spent guzzling down energy drinks and eating whatever we could stomach. Farron, who never sat down because he said it made his muscles lock up, kept checking in with me non-verbally. Underneath that grumpy exterior really beat a soft, caring heart.
The second half began. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the battle ahead. We had forty-five minutes to turn this around, and I was determined to give it my all.
Elkin came out strong, their offensive line pressing hard against our defense. I sprinted down the field, trying to create space for a pass, but their midfielders were relentless.
Jake launched the ball in my direction. I trapped it with my chest, my heart pounding as two Elkin players converged on me. I dribbled left, then quickly cut right, barely managing to squeeze between them. The crowd roared as I broke free, charging toward the goal.
I hesitated for a split second. Should I take the shot or pass? In that moment of indecision, an Elkin defender slid in, knocking the ball over the line. We had the throw-in, but our momentum had been stopped, and we immediately lost the ball again, thanks to Cooper’s sloppy aim.
We charged onto the field with renewed vigor, but Elkin’s defense was impenetrable. Every time we pushed forward, they seemed to anticipate our moves. I sprinted down the wing, calling for the ball, but our passes were constantly intercepted.
As the minutes ticked away, a sense of desperation began to creep in. We were running out of time, and the realization that we might actually lose this match started to sink in. Elkin was outplaying us at every turn. Their defense was a fortress, and our attacks felt increasingly desperate.
In the final minutes of the match, I found myself with the ball at my feet, facing a wall of Elkin defenders. I tried to channel all my years of training, all the skills I’d honed, into this one moment. I feinted left, then right, searching for an opening. But there was none. An Elkin player slid in, cleanly taking the ball from me and ending our last real chance at equalizing.
As the final whistle blew, I stood rooted to the spot, my chest heaving. We had lost. We were in second place. The disappointment was crushing, a physical ache in my chest.
“Good game, mate,” an Elkin player said, offering his hand.
I shook it mechanically, barely registering the gesture. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions: disappointment, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of letting everyone down.
As we walked off the field, I caught sight of Farron, who stood talking to the Elkin’s captain. His devastated expression nearly broke me. I’d wanted so badly to win this for him, for my team, for Hawley.
“You played your heart out,” Luke said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We all did. Sometimes, it’s just not enough.”
I nodded, unable to form words. The reality of our second-place finish was sinking in, and with it came a flood of questions about my future, about my relationship with Farron, about everything I’d been avoiding thinking about. This loss wasn’t just about soccer. It was the end of a chapter and the beginning of something new, and it terrified me that I didn’t know if it would be a good or a bad thing.
The locker room was a somber place as we filed in, the air heavy with the weight of our defeat. The usual post-game chatter was absent, replaced by the sound of shuffling feet and muted sighs. I slumped onto the bench, my muscles aching from the exertion of the match.
Coach cleared his throat, drawing our attention. His weathered face bore the lines of disappointment, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he surveyed our team. “Gentlemen, I know this isn’t the outcome we hoped for. But I want you to look around this room. Each one of you has poured your heart and soul into this season. You’ve pushed yourselves beyond what you thought possible, and you’ve done it together.”
I glanced around at my teammates, noting the mix of emotions on their faces. Some nodded along with Coach’s words, while others stared at the floor, lost in thought.
“Second place in the nationals isn’t a failure,” Coach continued. “It’s a testament to your hard work, dedication, and spirit. You’ve made Hawley proud. You’ve made me proud.”
His words resonated with something inside me, and I felt a small spark of warmth cutting through the disappointment. We had come far, hadn’t we?
“You’ve come farther than any Hawley team has in two decades, and that’s an amazing accomplishment. So tonight, we celebrate,” Coach said, a smile breaking through. “We celebrate how far we’ve come, and we look forward to where we’re going next.”
There was a murmur of agreement, and I found myself nodding along. Coach was right, of course. We should be proud. And yet…
As the team began to stir, talking in low voices about plans for the evening, I remained seated, a knot of uncertainty forming in my stomach. Coach’s words about looking forward struck a chord. What was next for me? My future at Hawley was unclear, shrouded in a fog of doubt. I wanted to stay at Hawley for another year at least, even knowing Farron wouldn’t be there, but would my father let me? Our agreement had been for one year only.
“You all right, Tore?” RJ asked, pausing by my locker.
I mustered a smile. “Just processing.”
“You played your heart out all season.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “We’ll get ’em next time, yeah?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Next time . Would there be a next time for me at Hawley? The thought sent a pang through my chest, sharper than the ache of our loss.
As I slowly began to change out of my kit, my mind wandered to Farron, to the truth I needed to tell him. The end of the soccer season meant I could no longer hide behind the excuse of not wanting to disrupt the team. It was time to be honest, to reveal who I really was.
The thought filled me with a mixture of dread and anticipation. How would he react? Would this be the end of something beautiful before it had truly begun? One thing was certain: whatever came next, nothing would be the same.
Then Farron stood before me, gesturing for me to stand, which I did. “What’s?—”
He cupped my face in his calloused hands and pressed his lips to mine. The world around us faded. His kiss was fierce, passionate, and utterly public. My heart raced, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. When we finally broke apart, I blinked at him in astonishment. A beat of silence, and then the locker room erupted in cheers and whistles.
“We would’ve never made it this far without you, so thank you,” he whispered.
I blinked. The team knew about us, of course, as did Coach, but Farron had never publicly kissed me. “Thank you.”
Farron grinned at me, his thumbs gently caressing my cheeks. “I’m done hiding, Tore.”
My chest swelled with emotion, even as guilt gnawed at me. I managed a smile, trying to push down the anxiety bubbling inside me. “You can kiss me any time.”
As our teammates offered good-natured ribbing, I couldn’t shake the weight settling on my shoulders. Farron had bared his heart to me, to everyone. And here I was, still keeping secrets.
I couldn’t put it off any longer.
Tomorrow. I would tell him everything tomorrow.