Chapter 67: Chapter 67: The Day After I
(Jamie POV)
Jamie woke up on Sunday with the match still in his body.
His calves were tight when he stretched them, and something in his right hip pulled when he turned over. For a second he did not know why he ached everywhere.
Then he remembered. The shirt. The cross. The block on the byline.
His boots were by the door where he had dropped them the night before, studs still crusted with dried mud from the away pitch. Yesterday’s kit was folded badly on the chair, and the room still smelled faintly of grass off his socks.
The house was quiet. Alan had let him sleep.
It did not feel like the morning after something big. It just felt like a body that had been through a war and a mind that would not switch off.
He kept replaying two things. The low ball across for Liam. And the staff man with the tablet, saying they wanted to see if it repeated.
He reached for his phone. Twelve per cent battery. The team group chat was already going, messages stacking on top of each other.
He looked at it for a moment, thumb hovering, then opened it.
The messages were messy and fast, the way they always were.
Finn: game house l8r? no match tmrw
Liam: cba
Liam: fine yeah
Noah: who’s in
Finn: everyone. some of the college lot coming 2
Finn: @Jamie you coming or you too pro for us now
Jamie read it twice.
He wanted to stay in bed. His legs wanted it more.
But he knew what the tag meant. On the pitch he could earn his place with a run and a tackle. Off it, this was the other test, the one nobody put on a team sheet. Learning how to be one of the lads without looking like he was trying too hard.
He did not reply straight away. He typed something, deleted it, then kept it simple.
Jamie: yeah im down. what time
The replies came in before he had put the phone down.
He ran a bath because his legs needed the heat, and lay in it until the ache went dull.
Getting dressed took longer than it should have. He put a top on, looked at himself in the mirror, took it off, put another one on, then told himself it did not matter which one he wore.
It clearly mattered a bit. He left the second one on.
Going downstairs, his thighs complained on every step, and that made him almost smile. Saturday had been real. His body had the receipts.
Alan was in the kitchen with the radio low.
"Out with the lads?" Alan asked, not looking up from his tea.
"Game house. Bit of food after."
"Good." Alan nodded. "Be back at a decent time. School tomorrow, remember. Different kind of week now."
Jamie remembered. He had been trying not to.
The boys were already outside the shop by the stop when he got there.
Finn saw him first and spread his arms wide.
"Lads, he came. Thought you’d be doing recovery in an ice bath or something, being a starter and that."
"Shut up," Jamie said, but he was grinning.
Noah bumped his fist, easy about it. "Ignore him. You alright? Legs okay after yesterday?"
"Bit stiff."
"Yeah, you will be." Noah said it like a man who knew. "Gets better."
Liam was leaning on the wall, hands in his pockets, acting like he was too old for all of it.
"You lot are so loud," he said. But he pushed off the wall and came anyway.
The bus was half empty on a Sunday.
They spread across the back, knees jammed against the seats in front, trainers where the boots had been the day before. Everyone was on their phones for the first two stops.
Someone put music on too loud through a cracked speaker, and Liam told him to turn it down without even looking up.
The football never fully left, even here.
Finn complained his hamstring was tight and asked Noah if he’d stretched properly. Noah said the coach was doing the match video review Tuesday, and there was a groan around the back seats. Somebody remembered, out loud, that school started properly tomorrow, and the groan got louder.
Jamie sat by the window and watched them and thought that away from the pitch they were just teenagers on a bus.
Then Finn asked him if the winner was actually his cross or just a lucky one, and football was back in the conversation before the sentence had finished.
The game house was loud and bright, machines flashing along both walls.
Some girls were already there, gathered near the racing games, and it was clear they knew the Tranmere lads. Finn went straight over. There were hellos, easy ones, the kind that told Jamie they did this most weekends.
He was the new face, and he felt it.
One of the girls looked at him a second longer than the others. She said something to the girl next to her, then looked back.
Finn did the introductions his way, which was not really an introduction.
"This is Jamie. New right-back. Crossed for the winner yesterday, so he thinks he’s Trent now."
"I don’t—" Jamie started, then just shook his head and looked away. "It wasn’t that big."
The girl who had been watching raised an eyebrow at that.
"Maya," she said. "You always this quiet, or just when Finn’s talking you up?"
"Depends how much he’s lying."
She smiled, and something in the group loosened.
They played a bit of everything, the way you do.
The racing game first, wheels yanked too hard, everyone crashing. Then the basketball machine, balls clanging off the rim and rattling down the chute while Finn insisted he was on a hot streak he clearly was not.
Jamie stayed quiet through most of it. He was still half in his own head.
Then someone loaded FC 2099, and something in him woke up.
He did not brag. He just picked his team, sat forward, and started defending like the machine owed him money.
He beat Finn two-nil. He beat Noah as well. Liam actually put his phone down for the rematch and lost that too.
"He’s parking the bus, look at him," Finn said, throwing his hands up. "Playing like he’s protecting a one-goal lead in a cup final."
"He only knows how to cut it back," Liam said. "That’s his whole game. Yesterday and now."
Jamie laughed, properly this time, the first real one all day.
"Better than losing to me," he said, and even Liam smirked at that.
Maya was watching, and Jamie caught it, and this time he did not look away as fast.
Afterwards everyone was starving, so they went to the McDonald’s by the precinct.
Ordering took ten minutes because nobody could agree on anything. Finn was counting coins out of his pocket, one lad was checking his card would work, and two of them were pretending they were not showing off in front of the girls.
Jamie sat at the edge of the pushed-together tables with his tray, quiet, until Maya dropped into the seat across from him.
"So where’d you come from?" she asked. "I’ve not seen you around, and I know most of this lot’s business."
"Came in late," Jamie said. He picked at his food. "Had a trial. They offered me a place after."
"Late’s good or bad?"
"Bit of both."
"So are you actually any good, or did Finn make that up?"
Jamie looked down at his food and did the small smile he did when he did not want to answer.
Finn answered for him, mouth full. "He started yesterday. First game. Set up the winner." He pointed a chip at Jamie. "He’s alright."
"Alright," Maya repeated, and looked at Jamie like she’d filed that away.
She turned out to be more useful than he expected.
"You’re starting the education programme tomorrow, yeah?" she said. "You’ll be in with our lot. My brother’s in the year above, in the academy, so I know the whole timetable better than I want to."
"You’re in the class?"
"Some of it." She stole one of his chips, unbothered. "Fair warning. Monday’s worse than training. New starters have to stand up and introduce themselves. Miss makes you. It’s grim."
Jamie’s stomach dropped a little.
"You’re joking."
"I really wish I was." She grinned. "Name, where you’re from, one interesting fact. Everyone stares. It’s the worst two minutes of your life."
Great, Jamie thought. Something else to lose sleep over.
Comments