THREE

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The next day was the same, and the next day and the next day and the next day. It was like a record on loop, the same things happening again and again, the same conversations. The only thing that differed in my day was the rota of chores at home.

I washed the dishes with Zoey, I set the table, I cooked with Lauren. I watched Zoey's softball game with my family Thursday night and we traded in a home cooked meal for a restaurant one.

The game tonight was mine, against another high school on the opposite side of the city, Alexander Academy. They were our rivals.

The whole school was full of posh and rich wankers who thought they were better than the public school lot and most times when they played us, they won. They did a little thing I liked to call cheating.

The soccer team of Alexander Academy got in our heads, they made snide comments, they pushed us on the field, they tripped us up when the ref wasn't looking. They played dirty and they never got caught.

I was a player of respect, coach and I agreed that we wouldn't stoop to their level, no matter how much we were agitated. My teammates agreed; they were douches but they weren't cheats.

Every match against Alexander's caused a blanket of tension and anxiety to fall upon the school, even the students who weren't in to soccer wanted the cheating bastards to lose.

I stood before my teammates in the changing room, the sweat and the body odour didn't make me choke like when I first walked in here. I was used to the stench that accompanied eighteen highschool boys.

Right now I wasn't their classmate who disliked most of the guys; I was their captain.

"No matter how many dirty tackles, foul moves, nasty comments or dirty tricks they pull on us, we don't fight back." I shout at my team, glaring at every single one of them. "We play fair."

They nodded, some more reluctant that others but they all agreed. The students of Alexander Academy riled us up and just the mention of their name caused us to clench our jaws, ball our fists and want to punch them in their smug, ugly faces.

They made my teammates look like angels.

"Logan is right." Coach walked in to the changing rooms, his face stern. I fell in beside the team. Coach was a strict and fair man. With a grey stubble, calculating and hard brown eyes and a buzz cut, he was intimidating. At just the mention of his name we straightened our backs and quietened down. With him in front of us we were on our A game. "We don't stoop to their level. If we win then we win fair and square. I don't want to see any of you adhering to their tricks. There will be consequences if you do." His glare was a thousand more intimidating and powerful than mine, sending shivers of fears down the spines of those who dared to think about crossing him. He turned to me. "How you playing this cap?"

I fell out of line to face my team. "Long ball is probably our best bet against them. Defenders get it to attackers and bypass midfielders. Then midfielders and offence block their counter attack. When forwards have the ball, stick to possession. Short range passes. As soon as someone has an advantage, score." I ordered them, raising an eyebrow at coach to change the strategy. He nodded and slapped me on the back.

"You guys go out there and give them hell!" Coach yelled. "Show them not to mess with Denver Hill!"

We all yelled in unison and ran out to the pitch, grinning at the crowds gathered on the bleachers. I could see my family on the bleachers, Zoey and Lauren waved excitedly and jumped up and down while holding a handmade sign.

WE LOVE YOU LOGAN!

A chuckle escaped my lips as I read the sign. Parker nudged me as he read it and laughed. I raised a hand in acknowledgement, Carter and dad replied with the same greeting.

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