Bloodsport

chapter 64

The team erupted in screams and jumped into a tight jumble, yelling praise at Louis and shaking his shoulders. Harry laughed — he’d known Louis would score. He’d felt it.

He watched Louis’ expressionless face turn into a small, pleased grin. He was unfathomably gorgeous, eyes sparkling with relief and delight all at once. Harry couldn’t believe that Louis didn’t know how fucking amazing he was.

The match wasn’t over. Only a few minutes after kick-off, the opposing team advanced. Ed made a mistake on the right side of the pitch, and the nearest green jersey didn’t hesitate to steal the ball and launch it up the field to his winger. It took only seconds before they were sliding the ball in under Liam’s helpless arms.

The match turned more physical. The Donny boys were full of anger from the conceded goal, and the other team was energised by the sudden change of play in their favour. It was a tie, 1-1, and the other team had the momentum. But Louis, dominating the midfield in his sitting position, was fierce and edging on brutal. Coach was telling him to tone it down, but towards the end of the first half, he knocked a player in the back, sending him abruptly to the grass, landing on his front. The player looked like he wanted to kill him, and Louis didn’t look remorseful in the slightest. The ref missed it, didn’t card him, and the green team was in outrage.

Louis walked off like he’d done nothing wrong, meanwhile, Harry ran a hand over his face, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Louis was great. Just great. Harry felt no pity for the other team.

As they hit halftime, Harry’s thighs were burning. He wiped his face with his jersey, drank water, and let his lungs inhale deep, calming breaths. He glanced over at the bleachers and found his mother holding her hands in front of her chest, staring at him, full of anticipation.

Harry waved and she reciprocated it quickly, smiling brightly at him. “So good,” she seemed to mouth across the distance, and Harry had never felt so oddly appeased. He grinned, but quickly turned back to the pitch.

Inhale, exhale. All right.

The second half was harder. The game was cut up by free-kicks, disrupting the flow of play, and every time Harry thought they were close to scoring something happened. Yellow cards, missed opportunities, saves, goal posts… Harry’s jersey was wet with sweat, and his curls were plastered to his forehead and neck. His lungs burned.

The other team scored thirty minutes in.

Subsequently, Louis knocked down another player, and the ref didn’t miss it this time. The other team was screaming in fury. The ref awarded him the card he already should’ve had, and Harry could hear the team around him huffing and grumbling as they pulled Louis away from the fouled player. They hadn’t played as tough of a match in a while, and although Harry loved this feeling — the fight, the intensity — he needed them to win.

The other team readied themselves for the free-kick. The Donny players formed a wall, the rest of the boys lining up in the zone defence they’d practiced so many times. Harry took his spot at the right edge of the goal area, eyes trained on his green player who wasn’t allowed to touch the ball, no matter what. Harry couldn’t let him out of his eye-line for a second.

The captain of the other team took the shot, firmly hitting the left goalpost. Gasps of relief and disappointment simultaneously echoed from the bleachers. The ball was free, though, and Liam was fast. He picked it up in a flash, throwing it far and hard out on the left edge of the pitch to Lee’s feet. Harry was already running on the other side.

Lee flitted down the pitch at a speed Harry had never seen him hit before. He was quick, precise, and deadly as he headed towards the far end of the pitch. Louis was running in the middle, coming up behind Lee, the fastest player on the pitch as always. Harry could feel a player behind himself, but he raced faster, cutting in from the right and heading towards the edge of the opposing penalty area.